Chapter 118: Adding a Stake

During the three days of training with Yotsukura Go, Shu Ran learned a great deal.

The day before they parted ways, Lin Jiahui posted a group photo on Twitter. In the center was Lin Jiahui, with her arms draped over the shoulders of Shu Ran and Yotsukura Go, accompanied by the caption: "My two star pupils."

The immediate consequence of this photo was a significant boost in Shu Ran's profile. So much so that after she and Fu Yiqing returned to the country on the third day, they were frequently approached by passersby for photos. At the same time, she also received many declarations of love from Yotsukura Go’s female fans—though, naturally, these declarations were directed at Shu Ran as a way to express their feelings for Yotsukura.

Shu Ran couldn't help but sigh; this was the allure of a world champion.

Upon returning home, Shu Ran did not go back to the villa, but instead returned to the national team with Fu Yiqing, resuming the rigorous life of training and resting alongside her teammates. Not long after, internal team trials began. The results for the women’s singles were beyond doubt: Shu Ran took first place.

Meanwhile, the National Figure Skating Championships were drawing near. The national championships for figure skating rarely drew large crowds, and the competition did not differ much from daily training, save for the requirement to wear costumes. With the help of a stylist, Shu Ran changed into her performance outfit. Looking at herself in the mirror, she raised her arms and tentatively practiced her performance movements, her brow furrowing slightly.

"What's wrong?" Fu Yiqing asked.

"Every time I exert force, the sequins on the surface of the dress scratch my skin," Shu Ran replied.

Fu Yiqing grabbed her arm, pressed his large hand against it, and frowned in turn. "Wear this for the competition this time. We will resolve other issues after it concludes."

Typically, if a costume is comfortable, well-fitting, and aesthetically pleasing, it is used for several competitions. If it does not fit well, it is replaced immediately with a backup—though, of course, the backup must also be tested before being put into use. Currently, talent in women's singles was scarce domestically, and Shu Ran was arguably the best performer, leaving all others trailing behind. Consequently, neither she nor Fu Yiqing felt any anxiety about the competition's outcome. It was precisely for this reason that Shu Ran had regained the attention of the Skating Association so soon after her comeback.

When it was Shu Ran's turn to warm up, she stepped out from the backstage area and was startled by a thunderous roar erupting from the previously quiet rink.

"Shu Ran!"

Shu Ran looked up, scanned the stands, and froze for a brief moment in astonishment. The National Championships rarely saw more than a hundred spectators, and most fans came for the men’s singles skaters, Zhu Hongzhe and Chen Lecheng. Competition in the women’s singles was not fierce, and strong contenders were rare; thus, by the time the women’s event began, most spectators had already left, or if they remained, they rarely cheered for the female skaters.

But now, there were at least two hundred spectators. The men's short program had concluded two hours ago. Could it be that the audience had stayed behind just to watch her performance? No, they were holding light boards and banners; they had clearly come prepared.

Shu Ran whispered, "What is going on?"

Fu Yiqing swept his gaze across the audience and raised an eyebrow. "It seems you have quite a few fans of your own."

Just then, an abrupt female voice rang out from the stands: "Shu Ran! We’re here to cheer for you on behalf of your senior!"

Shu Ran was stunned. *Senior?* In a broader sense, all her teammates were her peers, so in a way, Zhu Hongzhe and Chen Lecheng could be considered her seniors. But domestically, the only senior with enough influence to draw such a crowd in the niche sport of figure skating was Yotsukura Go.

It seemed that the group photo Lin Jiahui had posted on Twitter was responsible.

"Good thing I didn't get ahead of myself," she muttered, the corner of her mouth twitching as she turned to give Fu Yiqing a helpless smile. "My fans used to support me because of you; now, they’re supporting me because of my senior."

Fu Yiqing chuckled. "At the very least, you are the most popular skater in this arena right now."

Shu Ran tilted her head, pondered for a moment, and decided that was a fair assessment.

On the first day of the short program, Shu Ran performed with ease. There was only one jump error, which cost her a point in GOE, but she finished with a score of 70.74, roughly 10 points ahead of second place. It wasn't her best performance, but the wide margin left the fans in the stands screaming with excitement. For a brief moment, Shu Ran felt the pride of a superstar.

In the second day’s free skate, Shu Ran took first place once again, securing the 2024-2025 National Championship with an overwhelming total score of 210.05. The runner-up that day was Du Yi, a younger teammate who had since retired from the national team, with a total score of 179.62—thirty points behind Shu Ran.

Under the new rules, the world record holder for women’s singles remained a Russian skater, as did the reigning Winter Olympic champion, Nadilova. The current highest total score in women's singles was 240.41, set a year ago by Soskova, a training partner of Nadilova, at a Grand Prix event; it remained unbeaten. For the Russian skaters, the domestic competition was fierce. Du Yi could be considered one of the best skaters in the country besides Shu Ran, yet her scores would only be considered mediocre on the international stage, illustrating the vast gap between domestic and international skaters.

Mindful of Shu Ran’s foot injury, Fu Yiqing did not sign her up for too many competitions this season. He planned for her to participate in the Grand Prix, and after the Grand Prix Final in early December, he would have her retreat into focused training before finishing the season at the World Championships. That would complete her tasks for the year.

Not long after the National Championships, the Grand Prix series began. Shu Ran signed up for the popular legs in Canada and Japan. These two stages were the most competitive, but since Shu Ran’s ultimate goal was the Winter Olympics, the Grand Prix stages were merely stepping stones. The two events were only half a month apart. After successfully winning the Canadian leg, she returned home for less than ten days of training before flying to Japan.

At the Japan leg, Shu Ran made a minor mistake and finished only third. As mentioned before, with the retirement of the previous generation of female skaters and the implementation of new rules, the competitive landscape had shifted drastically. At the last Winter Olympics, Nadilova had been a dark horse, performing high-difficulty moves one after another. Because the base value of difficult elements was higher, her total score was naturally higher, and she unexpectedly won the Olympic title.

After the new rules were implemented, young Russian female skaters began challenging quadruple jumps, with scores surpassing even some of the men. If the base values for technical movements weren't adjusted, these young skaters' success would only force more athletes to choose technical methods that caused them greater physical harm. Compared to older skaters, the younger ones were lighter and had not yet finished developing, giving them a significant advantage in performing high-difficulty moves. This meant that the overall age of skaters on the competitive stage would continue to drop.

Shu Ran finally understood why Fu Yiqing had placed so much importance on his bet with Quentin. If this trend continued, the faces of female singles skaters in international competitions would become increasingly youthful, and their professional careers would only become shorter. Judging by the current state of competition, Russian female skaters had swept the titles in almost every international event. Beyond Nadilova and Soskova, their other training partner, Evelyn, was also a force to be reckoned with.

In the end, Shu Ran accumulated enough points from the two stages to rank fifth overall, successfully qualifying for the Grand Prix Final. Nadilova and Evelyn also qualified smoothly. However, the world record holder, Soskova, did not participate in the Grand Prix this season; it was rumored she was nursing an injury. Shu Ran believed she was preparing for the World Championships. The remaining three skaters to qualify for the GPF were Priscilla from Canada, Sayaka from Japan, and Zhang Ziqing from the United States. Kristina failed to qualify due to a major error.

Even though Shu Ran’s goal was the Winter Olympics, she did not let her guard down. The five skaters she encountered here would be her rivals at the next Winter Olympics, so she had to give her all in this competition.

At the start of the short program, Shu Ran successfully landed her signature 3A, winning applause from the audience. She received a +1.69 execution score, and her subsequent footwork and spins were flawless. Her step sequence was rated as Level 4 by the judges, and she finished the program without a single error, temporarily taking first place.

Then, the reigning Winter Olympic champion, Nadilova, finally took the ice. Although Nadilova had competed in the same Winter Olympics as Shu Ran, their skating orders had meant Shu Ran had never seen her perform live, only watching videos online. Generally speaking, Nadilova’s strength lay in the density of her high-difficulty moves; there was almost no time to rest, and the entire program was packed to the brim. While it lacked aesthetic beauty, the scores were inevitably high.

However, Nadilova’s biggest problem was that her jumping power did not come from her legs, but from the rotation of her arms. It looked like a sheer vertical leap from a standstill, which was incredibly taxing and prone to causing injury. As a result, her jumps were all arranged in the first half of the program, with the latter half dominated by footwork and spins.

Today, Nadilova also opened with a 3A, but unlike the lightness of Shu Ran’s, her landing was slightly heavy, though the program structure followed her usual pattern. Shu Ran, watching from backstage, furrowed her brow tightly. As she followed the figure on the television screen, she realized that the outcome of this GPF had already been decided. She turned her head away.

Fu Yiqing interpreted her reaction as disappointment and reassured her, "Your performance had more aesthetic grace."

"But I still lost."

This was an era defined by results, and scores were the ultimate measure. She stood with her back to him, her voice muffled. Fu Yiqing could not see her expression and was about to console her when a deafening roar suddenly erupted from the arena.

Both of them turned around instantly to see Nadilova lying on the ice on the television screen, curled up in pain, unable to rise for a long time. The soaring music continued to play, but the performance had been cut short. Staff immediately signaled for the medical team, who rushed onto the ice with a stretcher. Shu Ran watched the screen, her expression somber.

"Coach Fu," she said, her voice laced with a sense of quiet resolve.

Fu Yiqing looked toward her, only to hear her continue: "Let's raise the stakes of our bet."

He looked at her with confusion.

Shu Ran turned to the side, her eyes dark and bright. "Shall we change the difficulty composition of my program?"

Fu Yiqing lowered his gaze. "Are you sure?"

She raised an eyebrow, a faint smile touching her lips. "Since I came back prepared, I might as well take a gamble. Even if I can't win the Winter Olympic title, I should at least try to change this distorted environment."

Fu Yiqing still hesitated.

Shu Ran emphasized, "This really is our last chance."

After a moment of contemplation, Fu Yiqing looked up and met her gaze. "Very well. But you must follow my arrangements."

Shu Ran stepped forward, took Fu Yiqing’s hand, and slapped it with hers in a firm high-five. "It's a deal!"