Chapter Forty-Five All Heard It

Yuan Cang Yu had more training to do. After working overtime that evening to give Shu Ran some last-minute guidance, he caught a flight out. Before leaving, the two of them followed each other on Instagram.

Shu Ran was utterly exhausted that day. On the way back to the hotel, fatigue was written all over her face. Suddenly, Fu Yiqing spoke up. “You seem to get along… pretty well with him?”

“Who? Oh, you mean Senior.” Shu Ran shrugged. “It’s alright. Talking to him feels really comfortable.”

Fu Yiqing was hit by a sudden, unprecedented sense of crisis; his heart leapt into his throat.

Shu Ran frowned in thought. “It’s because he doesn’t say much. Every word he says goes straight to the point—no unnecessary talk at all, huh?”

As if struck by a realization, she suddenly looked up and fixed her gaze on Fu Yiqing.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” he asked.

Shu Ran looked him up and down, then broke into a bright, knowing smile. Her eyes sparkled, as if scattering stardust across the night. “No wonder Senior feels so familiar to me—he’s just like you, Coach!”

Fu Yiqing’s heart skipped a beat, but he quickly masked his thoughts and said in a low voice, “I don’t think we’re that alike,” before striding ahead.

Shu Ran had no idea what she’d said wrong. She tried to run after him, but her aching, swollen legs refused to move. Weakly, she called out, “Coach—”

The weariness in her voice made her sound as if she were acting spoiled from a distance.

“Come here.”

Shu Ran thumped her legs in frustration. “Ouch—” she muttered, trying to let Fu Yiqing know that her legs hurt and she couldn’t walk faster.

Something in Fu Yiqing’s chest seemed to clear away, and seeing the woeful look on her face, he felt as though a feather had brushed across his heart—ticklish and meltingly soft.

He shook his head and waited where he was. “I’ll wait for you here. Come on.”

Only then did Shu Ran slowly catch up.

Fu Yiqing reached out as if to tap her forehead, but just as he was about to touch her, he noticed several strands of hair caught in her eyelashes. He naturally brushed them away and gently patted her head.

“I really can’t do anything about you.” Even his reproach was tinged with affection.

Shu Ran burst out laughing. “Well, who told me I’d gain such a dedicated Senior today?”

Fu Yiqing frowned ever so slightly, though Shu Ran didn’t notice the subtle shift in his expression.

*

When it was Belus’s time for training, he came over and met Shu Ran’s smiling gaze. Hesitating for half a second, he too broke into a smile. “Looks like you’ve found your inspiration?”

Shu Ran nodded without hesitation.

“Let’s hear it,” Belus said.

“I want to incorporate martial arts into my program,” Shu Ran said. “If you’re looking for a source, my country happens to have a martial arts film called ‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.’”

Belus thought for a moment, then nodded. “I know that movie—it’s fascinating. But your technique isn’t strong enough yet. Portraying martial arts on ice is extremely challenging. If you really want to show Chinese martial arts to the world, you’ll have to simplify the moves, keep the form, and express it through dance. But I’m not very familiar with Eastern martial arts, so if I choreograph the dance, it might lack that authentic Eastern flavor.”

Just as Fu Yiqing had warned.

Fu Yiqing interjected at the right moment, “Belus, don’t worry about that. Tomorrow, Xu Jingyu will come to assist you.”

Xu Jingyu had participated in last season’s rehearsals as well, so Belus was naturally aware of who she was.

Qin Liubei patted his chest proudly. “That’s my girlfriend.”

Belus’s eyes lit up and he smiled. “Wonderful, wonderful.”

He continued, “Then this proposal is approved.”

Shu Ran nodded eagerly.

After listening to the film’s soundtrack, Belus thought for a minute before speaking. “The tempo is generally fast, and martial arts moves—even adapted into dance—are very demanding physically. I suggest using this for your short program.”

“Alright,” Shu Ran agreed.

Although Belus knew of the film, he hadn’t actually watched it, so he decided to first teach Shu Ran the new free skate program.

The new program was also inspired by a classic movie—‘Pan’s Labyrinth.’

It tells the story of a young girl, Ofelia, whose mother remarries a fascist officer. Ofelia feels like an outsider in her own home. One day, she stumbles into a magical world, where a faun tells her she is a princess of the underworld, but to return, she must complete three tasks. Ultimately, she fails, loses her mother, becomes an orphan, and is finally killed by her stepfather. In her dying moments, Ofelia’s soul seems to reach the underworld, where she’s reunited with her parents.

But the ending is ambiguous—no one knows if it was all just Ofelia’s imagination or reality.

Belus removed his skate guards and took to the ice, nodding to Qin Liubei to signal he was ready.

As the music began, Belus transformed into Ofelia.

His movements shifted with the music, but perhaps due to the difference in gender and age, Shu Ran found it a little unconvincing.

Still, that didn’t matter; Belus was simply demonstrating for her.

Overall, the music was more soothing, while the short program would be a fast-paced martial arts piece—a nice contrast of tension and release that would prevent the judges and audience from growing weary.

Shu Ran was about to glide over to the boards to begin learning, when Belus suddenly called out, “Wait a moment.”

His gaze swept across the group, and he smiled. “Qin, play the next track.”

Shu Ran was taken aback.

So was Qin Liubei, for a second.

Fu Yiqing was the first to react. “You prepared two programs?”

Belus nodded. “Don’t worry, the other one is also rather gentle. I’ve always had a hard time choosing between these two pieces. You all help me decide—which one suits Shu Ran better?”

As the golden notes flowed from the speakers, just a few measures pierced straight to Shu Ran’s heart.

Such beautiful music.

In that moment, even her vision felt like an obstacle to her hearing; she couldn’t help closing her eyes to savor its beauty.

As soon as Shu Ran closed her eyes, her heart grew calm.

The melody sounded sad, yet carried a quiet resilience—never conceding, always shining with a sacred light.

A surge of desire welled up within Shu Ran.

How she longed to perform this piece.

The echo of her blades gliding over the ice died away. Shu Ran opened her eyes, just in time to meet Belus’s satisfied smile.

Belus lifted his gaze slightly, as if he already knew which piece to choose. “So, it seems our Shu Ran has made her choice?”

Shu Ran nodded with conviction. “Yes, I want to skate to this! Who composed it?”

She was eager to know, rarely finding a piece that resonated with her so deeply.

“Air on the G String,” Qin Liubei replied. “At a court ball, someone tried to embarrass Bach by sabotaging his violin, leaving only the G string unbroken. Yet Bach played this entire piece with just that one string.”

What a proud and talented soul it must take to remain composed in a crisis, and create music so aloof and magnificent.

Shu Ran’s desire to perform this piece only grew stronger.

“Then let’s—” Belus began, but was interrupted.

“Learn both,” Fu Yiqing said, glancing up. “Shu Ran’s artistic expression still needs work. This will be good practice.”

Belus’s widened pupils betrayed his surprise.

With time so tight, learning two free skate programs was a risky decision—especially since Shu Ran had already shown such enthusiasm for Air on the G String, yet Fu Yiqing insisted on both.

Clearly, he didn’t trust Shu Ran to do justice to Bach’s piece.

But Shu Ran, not thinking as deeply as the other two, simply took it as Fu Yiqing wanting to see which program she performed better.

The exertion made her drink a lot of water.

She went to the bathroom once, and as she was about to leave, she heard, “Why are you making her learn both?”

A sigh followed.

Shu Ran instantly recognized Qin Liubei’s voice, and the sigh was Fu Yiqing’s.

She was impressed by her own ability to identify them by sound—she could even recognize Fu Yiqing by a mere sigh.

She quickly stopped herself from stepping out and slipped aside to eavesdrop.

Fu Yiqing’s voice: “This season’s competition is crucial. With Shu Ran’s current artistic skills, I worry she won’t be able to pull off Air on the G String. She’s still too inexperienced in life, and since Bach could remain so calm under pressure, it speaks to his pride and confidence in himself. Shu Ran has always lacked self-confidence. Let her try—maybe she’ll exceed my expectations.”

Qin Liubei, washing his hands, replied, “That makes sense, but have you thought about what you’ll do if Shu Ran loses?”

At that, Shu Ran’s heart leapt into her throat. Her fists clenched.

It was a competition—where there’s a winner, there must be a loser. Between her and Christina, one of them would lose.

What would Fu Yiqing do then? She’d never found the answer.

“I’ll leave. There’ll be nothing left to keep me here.”

Shu Ran’s heart pounded wildly. Her mind froze on Fu Yiqing’s words, replaying them on a loop.

Footsteps sounded outside.

It was a while before Shu Ran emerged. She washed her hands, staring blankly at her own reflection in the mirror.

Her heart felt adrift.

As she walked out, she caught sight of a figure from the corner of her eye. Looking up, she met a pair of worried eyes.

“You… heard it all?”

Shu Ran nodded.

Fu Yiqing regretted his words, unable to look her in the eye, afraid she’d misunderstood.

He feared she’d take it as a slight against her abilities.

No athlete could hear such words from their most trusted coach and remain unaffected.

For the first time, Fu Yiqing felt utterly at a loss. “Shu Ran, don’t overthink it. I just want this season to be as secure as possible.”

“Misunderstood what?”

Was he worried she’d learned he’d leave her side if she lost?

Shu Ran hid her own thoughts, tilted her head back, and smiled with easy acceptance. “I’ll win. I promise!”

She rarely wore such a determined expression; her gaze was unwavering.

“Yes, I believe you.”

Fu Yiqing finally relaxed, though a faint sense of unease lingered.