Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Farewell Ceremony

The national team has always been lacking in the Winter Olympics, with only one Zhu Hongzhe emerging in so many years, and no one expected that the women's singles would also stage a remarkable comeback at the same time. As a result, Shu Ran’s supporters and fans on Weibo increased rapidly; by the end of the Russian leg, her followers had reached three million, a testament to her rising popularity.

Yet, it wasn’t until she got off the plane that Shu Ran truly realized how famous she had become. The exit was crowded with people, a vast sea of faces, media and fans wielding DSLRs mingled together, indistinguishable from one another. Quite a few held banners emblazoned with her name.

The moment they saw her, fans started shouting, “Shu Ran! Shu Ran!”

“Shu Ran is never alone, the earth spins with you!”

Shu Ran was a little dazed, and even Fu Yiqing, pushing a suitcase, was stunned. It was Qin Liubei who broke the silence first, glancing at Shu Ran, “This… they’re efficient, they even have slogans already.”

The airport was so packed it was impossible to move, and what would usually be a five-minute walk took them half an hour before they finally made it onto the car sent by the team.

“Hoo—” Wu Huihui exhaled deeply, “Senior, I have to thank you this time. I finally got to experience what it’s like to be greeted like a superstar.”

Wu Huihui’s words pulled Shu Ran out of her thoughts. She joked, covering her head, “The pressure is enormous.”

From advancing alone, to walking with a companion, and now skating under the gaze of countless expectant eyes, not only had her demands of herself changed, but so had the expectations of others.

Though she was genuinely happy to have so much support and affection, the pressure outweighed her joy.

But Shu Ran had no time to ponder whether her rising fame and recognition were good or bad; she had to prepare for the upcoming GPF.

With only half a month left, she couldn’t afford a moment’s laxity.

Shu Ran’s understanding of “Pan’s Labyrinth” was still not deep enough. The success rate of several jumps during the variation was not high; even with her improved mindset at the Russian leg, she still made mistakes.

So Shu Ran hesitated—should she alter the technical difficulty?

But if she did, her chances of beating those five top contenders would shrink further.

Although Fu Yiqing claimed the Grand Prix wasn’t important, and Shu Ran was fully confident she’d secure her ticket to next year’s Winter Olympics, the World Championships were not her ultimate goal—the Olympics were.

Next year’s Olympic competition would undoubtedly be grander than the GPF, so this GPF, Shu Ran needed to achieve the best result possible to steady her nerves.

Faced with such uncertainty, Shu Ran grew increasingly troubled.

She took out her MP3 player and swapped out the movie soundtrack she’d grown tired of.

Soothing music poured in through her headphones, filling her ears with Bach’s melancholy. The notes on the G string were so serene.

Following the melody, Shu Ran danced on the ice, obeying her heart.

In her interpretation, Bach was proud and aloof; even when wronged, he didn’t expose others directly, but used his genius and a single G string to compose a piece that delivered a resounding slap to those waiting to mock him.

Back in July, when learning new choreography with Berlus, Fu Yiqing had suggested she study both “Pan’s Labyrinth” and “Song of the G String.” After finishing both, Berlus and the others agreed the former was superior, and the season’s program was chosen.

Yet Shu Ran never stopped thinking about Bach’s piece.

Somehow, she felt it resonated with her soul.

Since the piece hadn’t been edited yet, the version in Shu Ran’s player lasted five and a half minutes, so after skating it, she was exhausted, and spent the last minute practicing her spins.

Practicing with headphones prevented her from hearing her blades scrape the ice, leaving her uneasy. So she took off the headphones, played the music aloud from her phone, and continued.

The lingering notes drifted toward the rink’s exit. A woman at the corner paused, softened her steps, and quietly entered.

She stood in an inconspicuous spot, watching the ice as Shu Ran moved with elegance, her arms poised with effortless beauty.

The woman’s gaze gradually shifted away from Shu Ran, her hand at her side unconsciously clenched into a fist, and she quietly left.

Wu Huihui was chatting with Jiang Wanru, and looked up just in time to see Liang Yue leaving the rink.

Wu Huihui quickly greeted her, “Senior Liang!”

Liang Yue glanced at them instinctively, then withdrew her gaze as if she didn’t know them, passing by without a word.

Her expression remained dark throughout.

Wu Huihui awkwardly retracted her hand, laughing nervously, “She doesn’t look like she’s in a good mood.”

Jiang Wanru, though always kind, had lost patience with Liang Yue, who had lately shown no good face to anyone, not even Jiang. No one trained with Liang anymore. Realizing that Liang Yue would never get along with the team, Jiang abandoned the idea of helping her change her attitude.

Jiang Wanru frowned, “Come on, let’s train.”

Fu Yiqing and Qin Liubei entered just as Shu Ran finished practicing.

They still caught the last segment of the melody, recognizing it as “Song of the G String.”

Qin Liubei asked, “When we were in Canada, Shu Ran’s performance with this piece was hardly inferior to ‘Pan’s Labyrinth.’ She’s really talented musically. Why did you persuade Berlus to have her skate ‘Pan’s Labyrinth’ instead?”

Indeed, even after seeing Shu Ran perform both, Berlus remained undecided; in the end, it was Fu Yiqing who convinced him.

Fu Yiqing replied coolly, “Because she’s too young.”

Qin Liubei laughed, “Who in figure skating is old? By that logic, no one could skate classical music.”

Fu Yiqing said, “She lacks experience. Her life so far hasn’t seen any great setbacks—she can’t comprehend certain emotions.”

“If she can’t, you could explain until she does! Otherwise, what’s the point of you being her artistic coach?” Qin Liubei spoke quickly, clearly unconvinced.

Fu Yiqing glanced at him, pressed his lips together, and shook his head. “Only what you understand yourself can become yours. Otherwise, she’ll never be a true artistic performer. So this piece… I want to save it for when she’s gained that experience.”

His doubts finally resolved, Qin Liubei swallowed, his throat moving as he quietly watched Fu Yiqing.

So he had never given up his pursuit of artistry in figure skating.

Fu Yiqing faced Qin Liubei, his ethereal gaze uncertain. “Who knows when that will be.”

*

The day before the GPF began, Shu Ran’s phone buzzed nonstop early in the morning. She switched to airplane mode and focused on training.

Zhu Hongzhe, Wu Xincheng, and the others were also competing in the GPF. Though there was no team send-off, the group that had chatted together last time still agreed to meet in the cafeteria for one last moment of relaxation.

When Chen Lecheng came to call Shu Ran, she was still training. She looked to Fu Yiqing, who nodded, “You’ve trained all morning; it’s time to rest. Go enjoy yourself with them.”

Shu Ran smiled as she changed her shoes, then turned back, “Coach, come with me, too.”

Chen Lecheng frowned slightly, thinking that if Shu Ran’s coach came, they wouldn’t be able to relax and talk freely.

But Fu Yiqing chuckled, “No worries, you go ahead. I’m not familiar with them.”

Shu Ran didn’t insist, and Chen Lecheng was secretly relieved, quickly leading Fu Yiqing to the cafeteria lest he change his mind.

“Speak of the devil, and the devil appears.” Wu Xincheng threw an arm around Wu Huihui’s shoulders. “Sis, look, your good little sister is here. Later you should acknowledge your kinship too.”

Shu Ran was baffled. “Kinship?”

Wu Huihui laughed and called Shu Ran “sister,” leaving her even more confused.

Chen Lecheng, a bit exasperated, explained, “Wu Huihui and Wu Xincheng share a surname, so they claim to be long-lost sisters. They held a kinship ceremony a few days ago.” He added quietly to Shu Ran, “I seriously suspect Shen Yu is crazy, too.”

Shu Ran burst out laughing.

Wu Xincheng chimed in, “Yes, we’re long-lost sisters. Isn’t that right, little sister? Shu Ran is my recognized non-blood sister, Huihui is my same-surname sister.”

“Is this a harem? Everyone’s calling each other sister and brother.”

That was Zhu Hongzhe, who promptly earned a glare from Wu Xincheng.

Chen Lecheng laughed, “A harem? Let’s see who the emperor is. Right now there are only three guys here: me, Hongzhe, and Shen Yu. Shen Yu and Wu Xincheng are partners, so the emperor is probably surnamed Shen. But if Shu Ran is also a consort…”

His gaze darted around and soon landed on Zhu Hongzhe.

Zhu Hongzhe, feeling cornered, quickly changed the topic, “Now that we have an emperor, we need a eunuch. I vote for Chen Lecheng.”

Everyone followed suit, raising their hands, “I vote for him too.”

Chen Lecheng’s smile faded.

“……”

Soon, the cafeteria staff brought out the dishes. Seeing the bright red crabs, Shu Ran felt a pang of hunger, licking her lips before looking away.

Wu Xincheng suddenly called out, “Hey, what’s up? There aren’t enough crabs, why did you take two?”

Unaware, she looked down and found an extra crab in her bowl.

Zhu Hongzhe, not meeting anyone’s eyes, said, “Eat if you want. Eating a crab won’t make you fat.”

Shu Ran hesitated, “I can’t eat it.”

Zhu Hongzhe frowned, “Why not? Are the female competitors really that strict?”

Shu Ran shook her head, “I’m allergic to crab. Eating it gives me a rash.”

Zhu Hongzhe immediately understood, quickly removed the crab from her bowl, and gave her a new set of dishes, as if even the rim touched by crab would trigger her allergy.

Wu Xincheng, who’d been watching the two, suppressed a laugh. “Yes, our female athletes live very strictly. I worry that if I eat too much, I’ll crush Shen Yu.”

The room fell silent.

Everyone stared at Shen Yu and Wu Xincheng, while the latter remained oblivious. “What?”

“Eat,” Shen Yu said, placing a shelled crab in her bowl.

“Shen Yu, aren’t you afraid she’ll crush you?” Zhu Hongzhe teased.

“Eating a crab…” Wu Xincheng was about to retort when she realized the double meaning in her words, her face instantly turning bright red as she buried herself in eating crab.

Noticing the group snickering, she hastily clarified, “I meant the lifts, I’m worried about tiring Shen Yu out.”

“I’m talking about skating. Unless you meant something else?” Zhu Hongzhe’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

Wu Xincheng was momentarily speechless, her confidence evaporating as she bowed her head in defeat.