Chapter Fifty: Talking at Cross Purposes

When Shu Ran returned to the villa, it was almost lunchtime. Aunt Zhang was in the kitchen finishing the last dish. Seeing Shu Ran’s calm expression, Qin Liubei asked in a low voice, “You’ve already seen what’s happening online?”

Shu Ran nodded directly.

Qin Liubei patted her shoulder in comfort. “Don’t think too much about it. Your main task right now is training—nothing else needs to worry you. Old Fu will handle everything for you.”

Shu Ran looked up blankly, feeling a little puzzled. Why did Qin Liubei’s expression seem so grave?

Though she didn’t quite understand, she still nodded.

Just then, Fu Yiqing came down the stairs and happened to witness Qin Liubei comforting Shu Ran. His brows furrowed, but he spoke gently, “You’re back?”

Shu Ran replied, “Mm.”

She walked over to Fu Yiqing. “Coach Fu, you’ve seen what’s happening online too?”

Her gaze was clear, and facing her, Fu Yiqing suddenly felt a pang of guilt and self-reproach.

He instinctively avoided her eyes and called out, “Let’s eat first. Whatever it is, we can talk after the meal.”

This meal was noticeably more silent and oppressive than usual.

Shu Ran found herself increasingly lost about what was going on. She couldn’t help but ask, “Online…”

“No talking during meals.”

It would have been one thing if that came from Fu Yiqing, but it was especially odd coming from Qin Liubei, who was usually the most talkative.

Shu Ran felt a little dizzy. “What’s with you two? The harsh comments are just a few here and there. Is that what you’re so worried about?” Although most online comments praised her, trolls were always eager to make their presence known.

After pondering, Shu Ran thought this was likely the reason Fu Yiqing and Qin Liubei seemed so weighed down.

Sure enough, Fu Yiqing put down his chopsticks. “I’m full. How about you?”

Shu Ran paused. “Almost.”

“Then come to the study with me.”

Qin Liubei silently continued eating, saying nothing.

Once inside the study, the oppressive atmosphere hung in the air.

Before Shu Ran could speak, Fu Yiqing finally broke the silence. “Do you know, besides skill, what else a successful athlete needs?”

Years of exam experience made Shu Ran immediately slip into test mode.

“Luck,” she answered.

“And?” he pressed.

“The right time, place, and people?”

Fu Yiqing nodded. “An athlete without public support will have a much harder time winning a championship, because she can only rely on herself. I didn’t want you to win in such a difficult and painful state, so I had you accept the interview.”

She nodded. Indeed, she’d gained quite a few new fans online—Coach Fu was impressive to have foreseen even this.

Fu Yiqing repeated the purpose behind arranging the interview, then asked, “Do you understand everything I just said?”

Shu Ran replied, “Yes.”

Fu Yiqing went on, “But at the same time, lack of public support doesn’t mean an athlete isn’t good enough. In the end, this competition is about judging the athlete’s own abilities, not how much the public likes them.”

She nodded in agreement.

“So you don’t need to pay too much attention to the insults online.”

“I wasn’t really bothered by them anyway.” Shu Ran frowned, looking up. “But it seems like you and Qin Liubei… are the ones who really care?”

Fu Yiqing looked up in surprise at her candid, puzzled expression, and for a moment, his gaze held a hint of appraisal—as if he’d discovered a whole new side to her.

“You really don’t care?” he asked.

“Why should I? Sure, they say some nasty things, but trolls will always find something to complain about, no matter what happens. That’s just how it is,” Shu Ran replied.

Then she asked with soulful seriousness, “Coach, do you not use Weibo much? You and Qin Liubei aren’t handling this very well.”

She thought of her parents and elders in their friend group, who always took young people’s jokes seriously and got upset.

Could it be that Fu Yiqing and Qin Liubei had reached that age where they took everything to heart?

Fu Yiqing pondered for a moment. “Seems you’ve matured quite a bit lately.”

It’s just Weibo, what’s that got to do with growing up? Shu Ran thought.

As she was leaving, she said, “Coach Fu, you should try using Weibo too, at least keep up with the younger generation.”

Fu Yiqing didn’t pay much attention to her words. He couldn’t quite understand how Shu Ran’s attitude had suddenly become so good.

Unconvinced, he pulled out his phone and registered a Weibo account. Just as he was about to search for “Shu Ran,” the homepage happened to recommend a trending topic about her.

#ShuRanYuanCangyu#

Fu Yiqing stared—why was he involved too?

He clicked in and saw CTV’s clarifying post, as well as the news that Shu Ran and Yuan Cangyu had followed each other on Instagram.

The comments section was full of praise.

It was the complete opposite of the news Qin Liubei had shown him yesterday.

Ten seconds later, Qin Liubei got a call from Fu Yiqing and walked into the study, brows furrowed. “What, did the talk fall through? You couldn’t comfort her? But she seemed in a pretty good mood to me!”

Fu Yiqing handed him the phone.

“What is it?”

“See for yourself.”

Qin Liubei looked at the screen for a while and finally understood why Shu Ran was in such a good mood.

So the two of them had been talking past each other for over an hour?!

“This is great, isn’t it?” Qin Liubei said, puzzled. The problem was solved—so why was Fu Yiqing still so gloomy?

Fu Yiqing’s mind was full of Shu Ran’s words: “Coach Fu, you should try using Weibo too, at least keep up with the younger generation.”

He felt a whirl of complicated emotions.

When Fu Yiqing recounted the incident to Qin Liubei, Qin Liubei burst out laughing mercilessly, making Fu Yiqing feel even more dejected.

Qin Liubei slapped his shoulder in camaraderie. “Brother, compared to Shu Ran, you are a bit older, but age isn’t the issue—you’re good-looking! But honestly, you should keep up with the younger generation. The simplest way is to use Weibo. Until Shu Ran helps you win this bet, you can’t let yourself get left behind by the times.”

“It’s a waste of time. People who use Weibo have nothing better to do.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. People on Weibo are usually just passing the time, reading gossip for fun.”

No matter how much Qin Liubei tried to persuade him, Fu Yiqing stood firm—he was not going to use Weibo.

Fu Yiqing stayed alone in the study for a while and eventually returned Shu Ran’s phone to her.

*

Fu Yiqing came out of the bathroom, casually toweling the water from his hair. He glanced at his phone on the corner of the desk and, on a whim, picked it up and unlocked it.

Just before uninstalling Weibo, he suddenly changed his mind.

With a clear purpose, he went straight to Shu Ran’s topic page and found her account, scrolling through each of her posts.

The latest post was published after the Free Skate at the Misty Horn Cup.

@ShuRanice: “I miss my native language so much. Whenever I’m abroad, the biggest headache is always the language. What’s the thing you dread most about going abroad?”

Top comment: “Not me. My biggest headache is not having the money to go abroad.”

Seeing that, Fu Yiqing couldn’t help but laugh.

There weren’t many posts on Shu Ran’s account, so Fu Yiqing read almost all of them.

Many people in the comments asked for a selfie from last season’s “Banshee” performance. Shu Ran actually posted one from her archives, and the comments were filled with the usual compliments—how beautiful she was, how amazing.

After muttering “how boring,” Fu Yiqing quietly saved the photo.

When he finished reading the latest post, he instinctively scrolled up to check for any he’d missed. Finding none, he was about to exit Shu Ran’s page.

This quick review of Shu Ran’s Weibo only confirmed his suspicion—people who use Weibo really have too much time on their hands.

He was determined not to use Weibo; it was a waste of time and could easily become a distraction.

But just as he exited, he accidentally tapped back in.

He happened to see a post Shu Ran had made just ten minutes ago.

@ShuRanice: “I’ve been training these days and had my phone taken away by Old Fu. Only just found out from a friend about everything that happened recently. First off, thank you to everyone for your concern and support. I’m fine, but it seems Old Fu is a little troubled. His worries are just like the aunts and uncles in the family group chat—they don’t get our jokes and take everything seriously. It’s actually quite amusing.”

“Hahaha, Old Fu is so cute! I once posted a photoshopped picture of a pig and my cousin, and got completely roasted in the family group chat. After that, I just blocked all the elders.”

“Didn’t expect Old Fu to look so young but have such an old soul!”

“People in the comments, let’s be real. So what if Old Fu’s mindset is old? He’s still handsome!”

“Ouch, that hits home. But a few days ago, the online insults were really harsh. She’s not even a celebrity, and so what if she read from a script? Luckily, Old Fu took her phone away—he was protecting her. It’s very heartwarming.”

“Now I really want to read a coach x student story. I want some sweetness.”

“I actually read a story about a driving instructor and a student—it was a real coach x student romance, no joke.”

Apart from the few comments about shipping them, which Fu Yiqing didn’t really understand and so ignored, the rest all gave him a sense of being teased.

He exited Shu Ran’s Weibo page and went to change his own username.

After being told repeatedly that the name was taken, he finally gave up and typed in “Old Fu.”

Unexpectedly, even that was taken. Left with no choice, he added “ice” at the end.

“Old Fu ice”—finally, the name was accepted.

At the same time, Shu Ran was looking at the comments under her own post, her smile fading.

Fu Yiqing had confiscated her phone right when the online uproar had started, and today at lunch, both he and Qin Liubei had looked so serious.

So he really had taken her phone to protect her?

But CTV had already released a clarifying video yesterday afternoon. So why were they still so serious today…?

She understood!

The tangled threads in Shu Ran’s mind suddenly unraveled.

They must have seen the initial outrage online and, upset, hadn’t bothered to check Weibo for any follow-up. That’s why their reactions were so delayed today.

Thinking back to what Fu Yiqing had said in the study, everything became clear.

Fu Yiqing really was protecting her.

Realizing this, she suddenly wanted to thank him in person. She’d always struggled with her mindset, and if she’d seen those online posts, it would have affected not just her training but even the impact of the subsequent reversal. It might have disrupted her entire trajectory at the American Grand Prix.

But because Fu Yiqing had taken her phone, she’d been spared all that.

As Shu Ran hesitated about whether to go find Fu Yiqing, her phone chimed with a notification. Amid dozens of likes, one username caught her eye.

@OldFuice.