Chapter Five: Why Be Angry?

Qin Liubei eventually left. After Shu Ran finished her training and returned to the villa that day, she never saw him again.

She remembered when he arrived, he was dragging a suitcase, but his departure was hurried. Clearly, he had some dispute with Fu Yiqing, and just as clearly, that dispute was because of her... Or rather, Qin Liubei never really paid her any heed.

Life for Shu Ran now was simpler and more tightly scheduled than when she was with the team. Mornings began with physical training, followed by skating to find her rhythm. The remainder of the morning was for land training, while afternoons were devoted to watching films, operas, or stage plays—just one per day. If the piece was too long, it would be divided across several days, and she had to digest it thoroughly afterward.

Since she watched with a purpose, not merely for pleasure, it was never as relaxed as simple enjoyment. Sometimes a single line or a subtle expression from the protagonist would require her to pause and ponder repeatedly.

Shu Ran doubted whether such viewing could truly enhance her artistic expression.

The answer soon revealed itself.

One day, while listening to the original soundtrack, she found herself able to sense the protagonist's emotional state conveyed by a certain passage, or recognize what scene was depicted by a variation. The thoughts rising in her heart were no longer about what movements to use for the musical cues, but about the tangled emotions.

She began to understand Fu Yiqing's painstaking efforts. So afterward, each time she engaged in artistic training, she gave it her full, undivided attention, treating it as seriously as any other training.

Time cycled on, every day repeating the last and foreshadowing the days to come.

Just as Shu Ran stepped out of the dance studio, she caught sight of two figures in her peripheral vision.

It was Fu Yiqing and Qin Liubei.

The latter still wore a sullen expression, arms crossed, quickly withdrawing his gaze from her and pulling a laptop from his bag. “What are you waiting for? Let’s begin.”

Shu Ran waited for Fu Yiqing’s instructions. The way she instinctively averted her gaze made Qin Liubei frown. “Hey, I’m going to be half your coach from now on. Clearly, you don’t respect your teacher at all.”

Shu Ran was even more confused.

Fu Yiqing simply said, “Do as he says.”

After last time, Shu Ran immediately understood what was needed. She quickened her pace, changed into her skates, and entered the center of the ice rink.

Even up until the moment the music started, Shu Ran felt unprepared. At least last time she had a whole night to prepare. This time, Fu Yiqing didn’t give her any warning; she didn’t even know what music he would play.

Shu Ran thought Fu Yiqing would at least tell her what piece was about to be played before asking if she was ready.

Yet Fu Yiqing only asked, “Are you ready?” and as soon as she nodded, the echo of music filled every corner of the rink.

She suddenly realized Fu Yiqing had chosen the music from “Secret.” She had performed this program many times, but hadn’t practiced it since training with Fu Yiqing. Her last attempt during a team test was disappointing, so she wasn’t particularly grateful for the familiar music.

Precisely because it was a program she’d performed so often, Fu Yiqing would certainly expect more from her.

Her figure on the ice drew the attention of the two men outside. She executed a triple turn, and their eyes followed her blade as she switched from inside to outside edge.

When the piece ended, she glided out of the rink as before, anxiously listening for Qin Liubei’s comments.

He turned the laptop toward them, addressing only Fu Yiqing. “Her physical fitness has improved noticeably, and her emotional expression has grown, but I’ll say it again: she now has the qualifications to compete internationally, but her chances of winning are slim. I watched Kristina’s training—she’s made astonishing progress in the past month. If they were on the same level before, Shu Ran is no longer her match.”

Hearing such objective criticism face-to-face was difficult to bear.

But... Shu Ran was more concerned with one question: Who was Kristina?

Fu Yiqing spoke quietly, “Art is a process of long-term cultivation. It’s only been a month. There are three years and four months left before the next Winter Olympics. By then, Kristina will not be able to compare to Shu Ran.”

Qin Liubei’s tone grew anxious. “There’s less than half a month before the Grand Prix begins. How can she defeat Kristina as she is now? The first battle is crucial; if she loses to Quentin from the start, he’ll only become more arrogant and undermine our morale. If the wager isn’t fulfilled, the members of the council who support you will turn against you, and you’ll have no hope of retaining the presidency.”

“Liubei.” Fu Yiqing raised an eyebrow, interrupting him. “I never said I wanted to be president.”

Strange terms flooded Shu Ran’s ears—Kristina, wager, president. She wondered if she’d stepped into an alternate reality.

The two men had already reached an impasse.

“What wager? Who is Kristina?” Shu Ran suddenly blurted out, dissolving Qin Liubei’s frustration. He frowned at Fu Yiqing, “Didn’t you explain this to her last time? Your intelligence must be worse than your skating skills.”

The first sentence was aimed at Fu Yiqing, the second at Shu Ran.

“Coach Fu only explained the team test. Is there something else I don’t know?”

She looked at Fu Yiqing in confusion, but Qin Liubei answered first. “The team test selected two athletes with equal potential and foundation: you and Kristina from France. The outcome between you two will influence the International Skating Union’s rule reforms and is closely linked to your coach and President Quentin. If you lose, you won’t just lose the presidency—even the vice-presidency will be at risk, and Quentin will succeed as president.”

“This is a contest between technique and artistry. You were chosen simply because you two share the same foundation but neither of you have the ability for international competition. It’s not that I doubt Fu Yiqing’s ability—I simply don’t believe you can beat Kristina.”

Shu Ran was stunned throughout, her eyes wide, lips slightly parted in shock.

No wonder Head Coach Huo Guang treated Fu Yiqing as a guest of honor, no wonder he took her for special training without objection from the team. She was, it seemed, in a unique position.

She had been chosen only because her results were poor—what an irony.

She bit her lip, looking at Fu Yiqing with a complicated expression. “Is what he said... all true?”

Fu Yiqing nodded without hesitation. “I told you, once you join, there’s no option to withdraw.”

As soon as he finished, the girl strode quickly into the changing room, got dressed, and left without so much as a glance at the two men.

Seeing this, Qin Liubei exhaled deeply, his tone lightening. “Now it’s not you giving up, it’s her unwillingness. I’ll report the situation truthfully to the council—this way, it doesn’t count as your loss.”

“Are you satisfied now?”

Fu Yiqing’s gaze was cold and piercing; the last time Qin Liubei saw that look was at their first meeting—back then, Fu Yiqing was even more ruthless. Qin Liubei realized he had touched a nerve.

He had acted deliberately, breaking down Shu Ran’s confidence so that her hard-won hope would be shattered. If the competitor gave up, the wager could not proceed.

His expression softened immediately, replaced by a sycophantic smile. “You worked so hard to go from technical expert to council member. I’m only looking out for you, Qingqing.”

Fu Yiqing shot him a chilly glance and strode away.

Facing the vast rink, Qin Liubei called out, “Hey, she’s given up—what are you holding on for? When are you leaving? Want me to book your flight?”

Only his echo lingered in the empty rink, accompanied by a helpless sigh.

The rink wasn’t far from the villa, but it was still a ten-minute walk. Soon after Shu Ran left, Fu Yiqing followed, but he saw no sign of her along the way. She really must be angry.

It was understandable. Even being mocked by her teammates once drove the mild-mannered Shu Ran to snap back, and skating was clearly her untouchable domain. Now, not only had Qin Liubei ridiculed her, but she had learned she was merely a test subject. The “champion dream” she had cherished must have shattered.

Fu Yiqing walked, pondering his next steps.

When he opened the door, he saw Shu Ran’s shoes hastily left at the entrance, and he frowned slightly as he went upstairs. Voices and music drifted from the rooms.

Was packing up to leave such a joyful affair?

The door was ajar. The longer he lingered, the clearer the sounds became.

The music was strangely familiar—an opera... “Carmen”?

Fu Yiqing gently pushed open the door, about to speak, but was stunned by the scene before him.

Shu Ran’s gaze was fixed intently on the computer screen; at key moments, she quickly paused, and her pen tip raced across the paper, the sound of her writing especially crisp in the quiet room.

She was so focused, her eyes filled only with the opera, oblivious to everything else, until Fu Yiqing was just a meter from her desk and finally entered her field of vision.

She looked up and paused the video. “Coach Fu?”

His gaze flickered and his voice was calm. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, didn’t you ask me to watch some realist films when I had time? I heard this one was quite good and short, so I found it to watch.”

She was perfectly composed, as if nothing had happened. In contrast, Fu Yiqing, usually so unflappable, felt awkward.

For the first time, Fu Yiqing doubted his own judgment.

His expression was complex. “You walked so quickly just now—was it just to come back and watch a movie?”

“Yes.”

She tilted her head, as if she didn’t understand why he was asking, as though her actions were self-evident.

“Didn’t his words make you angry?”

“Angry at what? Because I’m just your experiment, or because my skills are terrible?”

He nodded.

She suddenly smiled, her eyes clear. “Actually, I was pretty angry at first, but Liang Yue used to say that about me all the time. You know, you’re only stating the truth. If I just gave up, then I really would be hopeless. I want to show those who look down on me that I can be a world champion too!”

So, when she realized the urgency of the situation back at the rink, she hurried home to continue her training, even considering whether to cut down her rest time to spend more hours on the ice.

But as soon as she spoke, the room fell utterly silent, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner.