Chapter 103: Not So Easy

The clinic was filled with a scent of medicine, indefinable and pervasive, causing the brown-haired, blue-eyed woman who had just entered to cover her nose and mouth with her hand.

Melinda, at the nursing station, witnessed this. Such scenes were common in the clinic; what was uncommon was the other person sitting in the waiting area.

Melinda couldn't help but cast her gaze toward the girl waiting for her number to be called. She had an Asian face, with long, ink-black hair draped over her shoulders. Her stillness drew many eyes. It was the first time Melinda had seen an Asian person with such fair skin; in her experience, their skin tone usually leaned toward a yellowish, darker shade, leading her to wonder if the girl was of mixed heritage.

The girl stared blankly at the bustling clinic, an X-ray film resting on her lap, her hands clenched into fists, remaining motionless for a long time. Had it been only the skin tone, Melinda would not have paid her so much attention. What struck her was the girl’s demeanor. She had maintained that vacant, soul-less posture for half an hour, unmoved by the chatter of those around her.

Just as Melinda began to wonder if the girl had a cognitive impairment or autism, the girl suddenly focused her unfocused gaze on a man nearby. Only when looking at him did the faintest hint of a smile tug at her lips, yet even that smile was incredibly faint.

The man seemed to be speaking... Chinese? Had he just called the girl’s name? Melinda was caught off guard for a moment. She had thought the girl was the most delicate Asian face she had ever seen, but she was startled by the man’s handsome features. He then draped an arm around the girl’s shoulders and led her into Dr. Joseph’s office.

"Hey!"

Melinda felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned, startled, to see her colleague Emma. Pressing a hand to her chest, Melinda sighed, "You scared me." She then looked back toward the office.

"What are you looking at?" Emma asked.

As a medical professional, one shouldn't be curious about a patient's condition—those were private matters—but today was an exception. "That girl and the man just now—do you know what they are here for?"

"Which girl and man?"

"That Asian couple," Melinda said, puzzled. "I remember Dr. Joseph specializes in orthopedics, yet their hands and feet looked perfectly normal..."

Emma frowned, thinking for a long time before her eyes widened in realization. "Oh, them! It’s for the girl. She’s an athlete. And they aren't a couple."

Many athletes sought out Dr. Joseph, and Melinda didn't recognize them all, but it was hard to believe the frail, beautiful girl was an athlete. "An athlete?" Melinda exclaimed.

As a patient approached, Emma answered while busy with her work. "Ever heard of figure skating? She’s a figure skater."

Melinda’s confusion dissolved into understanding. Figure skating remained a niche Olympic sport in Italy. When the national star, Lorin, was still competing, the public paid attention, but since her retirement two years ago, the sport had lapsed into a state of having no successors.

Just as Melinda pulled herself from her thoughts, the office door opened, and the tall man and the smaller girl appeared. To her surprise, even Dr. Joseph had come out to see them off.

Before they had walked two steps, Shu Ran said, "Coach Fu, I’m going to the restroom."

Fu Yiqing glanced at her and said gently, "Be careful." He didn't look away until her figure vanished at the end of the corridor, and the moment he did, a heavy shadow clouded his eyes.

"The follow-up shows no change," Dr. Joseph said. "A full recovery is unlikely, so we must take it slow. You could try adjusting her diet..."

Fu Yiqing nodded at every word. Dr. Joseph noticed his expression and glanced toward the restroom. Seeing she hadn't returned yet, he asked, "However, her injury shouldn't affect her performance. Why, over this past year... has Shu Ran not appeared in a single competition?"

As soon as he finished, a dense fog welled up in Fu Yiqing's eyes, quickly consuming his composure. He let out a sigh—so soft, yet it felt as if he had sighed thousands of times before.

Realizing he had touched upon a sore subject, Dr. Joseph laughed awkwardly and waved his hand. "If it's not convenient to answer, you don't have to..."

"It’s fine," Fu Yiqing breathed in slowly, his gaze drifting aside.

Dr. Joseph held his breath, his expression turning solemn.

Memories returned to a year ago.

Domestic interest in figure skating hadn't been high, mostly reserved for pairs or men's singles. But Shu Ran’s withdrawal made her a household name in the sports world—though the name came with asterisks. If before the competition she had been the center of attention, her withdrawal brought the proverb "when a wall falls, everyone pushes" to life.

@SportsNews: On the 21st, during the women’s free skate in Vancouver, Chinese skater Shu Ran chose to withdraw 31 seconds after starting. It is reported that the national team’s top female skater had been injured since the World Championships a year ago. Her performance at the Nebelhorn Trophy suggested the injury hadn't improved, though her short program on the 19th led everyone to believe otherwise. Whether she was truly recovered remains unknown. The national team has yet to provide a response regarding her withdrawal.

"As long as Shu Ran is okay, please stay rational and wait for the official statement!"

"Shu Ran is too self-willed. Even if injured, she should have finished the program. Even if it hurt, this is the Winter Olympics; the whole world is watching!"

"She probably recovered. She skated well on the 19th. I think she just lost focus today and realized she couldn't catch up, so she quit."

"I think she knew she wasn't good enough and quit to save face. She didn't want a bad score to ruin the popularity she built up while injured."

"If it hurts, why didn't she quit during the qualifiers? She skated through the pain then. She’s just acting entitled because her popularity went up!"

"It doesn't hurt you, so stop with the sarcasm! The person above makes a logical point—if she could push through the qualifiers but not this, it proves the pain is worse! Athletes don't represent the country as easily as you think. If continuing would worsen the injury, why force it?"

"Are these bots? My family gathered to watch the Chinese team during the holidays, and she just quit halfway through! And the worst part is the news about her injury coming out right before the competition. What does that mean? Paving the way for her to quit?"

For days, the internet was flooded with news of her withdrawal. Shu Ran saw it only after receiving emergency treatment. Those who supported her were few, and after days of online debate, more and more people sided against her, arguing she "should have finished regardless of injury."

Later, Shu Ran fell into a depression. The main cause wasn't the public backlash, but the doctor's diagnosis.

At this point, Fu Yiqing paused.

"What did the doctor say?" Dr. Joseph pressed.

"He said that even if she returned to the ice, the injury would remain recurrent, and..." His calm tone carried a trace of heartache. "She tried to get back on the ice six months ago."

From Fu Yiqing's tone, Dr. Joseph guessed the outcome.

"It was terrible. She doesn't believe she can ever skate better than she did before."

A figure skater’s training cannot be interrupted; it is the only way to progress. Every year, or even every six months, a skater’s growth is significant. Even a world champion cannot hold the top spot indefinitely if they stop, and Shu Ran wasn't even a world champion yet.

"Have you seen a psychologist?" Dr. Joseph asked in surprise.

"The psychologist said her mental block is easy to solve," Fu Yiqing replied. "As long as she stands on the ice again to perform, the problem will be solved."

Just like high jump—if someone is afraid, they will hit the bar, but with faith, they will eventually clear it. Shu Ran’s problem wasn't whether her body could surpass her past self, but that her heart had become more fragile than ever.

A bitter smile played on Dr. Joseph’s lips. "I think that won't be easy."

Fu Yiqing nodded. "Indeed."

The atmosphere turned cold. Dr. Joseph pictured the Shu Ran of years ago—the girl who lay in bed, tears streaming down her face, vowing that no matter the placement, she would return to the ice.

Stepping out of the clinic, they realized it was snowing. Silver-white flakes swirled, covering the city in a blanket of white.

Shu Ran looked stunned. "It's snowing."

Fu Yiqing hummed in acknowledgment and then wrapped a warm scarf around her neck, winding it tight until no cold air could get in.

Shu Ran stared at him blankly. "Coach..."

Fu Yiqing pulled the hood of her coat up over her head. Her face was framed within, looking familiar, yet her eyes lacked their former sparkle. He masked his unease, smiled gently, and patted the top of her head. He then held out his hand, gesturing for her to take it.

Shu Ran didn't hesitate, placing her hand in his. The chill was instantly dispelled.

Fu Yiqing led her into the snowy world. However, Shu Ran hesitated before getting into the car.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Shu Ran looked at the vast, frozen city again. White was the color she had known best since childhood, yet it was the color she now feared most. She felt the burning passion sealed beneath the ice and snow, yet her adrenaline spiked with nervous tension.

Her gaze dimmed. Finally, she suppressed the impulse to skate in the snow, bent down, and got into the car. "Let's go."

Fu Yiqing, having guessed her thoughts, sat in the driver's seat for a long while, his hands tapping the steering wheel before he tightened his grip. "The next season starts soon. Do you want to prepare a new program?"