Chapter 82: Do You Trust Him?

Fu Yiqing had just stepped out when the Shu couple blocked his path.

Their faces were urgent, their movements swift, their eyes fixed on the hospital room door, ready to intercept as soon as anything happened.

“How is she?”

Fu Yiqing shook his head. “She insists on competing.”

Qin Liubei arrived late, leading Xu Jingyu. Upon learning of Shu Ran’s condition, everyone wore an expression of gloom and worry.

At dinner, Shu Ran ate quietly, ignoring whatever the Shu couple said.

“Coach Fu, it’s not that her father and I are being heartless this time, but her situation simply won’t allow it. She always listens to you—maybe… could you go in and talk to her?” Zhao Anhong pleaded desperately.

Shu Yutian spoke up for Fu Yiqing: “Ranran is stubborn. She’ll only come around on her own; words won’t help.”

“In that case, why not let her compete?” came a voice from the end of the corridor. The figure stood backlit, face unclear.

Only Qin Liubei frowned in thought, while Xu Jingyu blurted out, “Mom?!”

Zhu Xinhui walked over, casting her gaze around the group, finally settling on the Shu couple. “Why not let Shu Ran try? She’s always been the kind who won’t give up until she’s tried everything.”

Zhao Anhong’s eyes flashed with hostility, her tone sharp. “Coach Zhu, if it were Jingyu’s leg today, and continuing to dance meant losing it, would you let her keep dancing?”

Zhu Xinhui paused, instinctively looking at Xu Jingyu. Her answer was “yes,” but given Zhao Anhong’s unstable emotions, she held back, not wanting to provoke further.

Shu Yutian’s face turned cold. “That’s nonsense! Coach Zhu, don’t mind her. She’s just too worried. Jingyu, don’t overthink it either.”

Zhu Xinhui and her daughter understood the couple’s psychological torment and took no offense.

Silence settled. Xu Jingyu finally grabbed Zhu Xinhui’s arm. “Mom, why are you here?”

Zhu Xinhui glared at her. “Such a big incident, and you didn’t tell me?” She hadn’t watched the live broadcast that day and only found out about Shu Ran through the news.

Xu Jingyu looked away apologetically, her anxiety causing her to forget everything.

“So what do we do now? The team told us to report any developments,” Qin Liubei said.

“We’ll discuss it later,” Fu Yiqing replied, at a loss. “Let her calm down for a few days.”

No one spoke again; everyone felt this was the best option for now.

Fu Yiqing was leaning against the wall when his phone rang in the corridor, and everyone looked to Qin Liubei.

He apologized and stepped away to answer.

A few seconds later, Qin Liubei stopped and walked back. “Something’s happened.”

Everyone’s heart tightened, instinctively moving toward the patient’s room.

Qin Liubei’s expression was complicated as he held his phone. “Shu Ran posted on Weibo. She said she won’t retire, she’s determined to compete in next year’s Winter Olympics, and told everyone not to worry too much about her.”

For a long moment, the corridor was silent.

Someone’s sigh pulled everyone back to reality.

“No, we can’t let her act so recklessly anymore.”

With that, Zhao Anhong strode into the room.

Shu Yutian, worry etched on his face, hurried after her, and soon arguing voices could be heard from inside.

“Coach Fu,” Zhu Xinhui fixed her gaze on him, “I have something to discuss with you. Is now convenient?”

Fu Yiqing said, “Sorry, I’m a bit…”

“It’s about Shu Ran.”

She left only those words and walked toward the staircase, as if certain he would follow.

Fu Yiqing did indeed follow.

At the stairwell, with no one around, Zhu Xinhui finally stopped.

“I thought you’d be the one who understood her best.”

Fu Yiqing looked up in surprise, worry lingering between his furrowed brows. He quickly looked away, perhaps out of guilt or anxiety.

He understood the implication in Zhu Xinhui’s words.

If he truly understood Shu Ran, he should let her take the risk.

“I know, but right now I can’t let her be reckless.”

“Think carefully—what does Shu Ran want most? Isn’t it cruel to force her to give up now?”

“She’s still young, she doesn’t grasp what health means for the rest of her life.”

“But the doctor only said she might end up in a wheelchair, not that she certainly will. Why not let her try?”

Suddenly, Fu Yiqing realized Zhu Xinhui’s eyes resembled Shu Ran’s—not in blood, but in spirit.

It was the look of someone longing for an unknown future, for rebirth.

Yet Zhu Xinhui’s gaze was even more complex, holding things Fu Yiqing couldn’t decipher.

“Sorry, I can’t gamble with Shu Ran’s body,” he said as he turned away. “I don’t want her to suffer later.”

The difference between dreams and reality is that if dreams defeat you, you can still return to reality; but if reality defeats you, Shu Ran will be trapped in pain forever.

Fu Yiqing ignored Zhu Xinhui’s persuasion and walked back.

“I once—!” Zhu Xinhui raised her voice, seeing him slow his steps, and continued, “I once had a student whose personality was much like Shu Ran’s. Quiet, gentle, dutiful girls in every other aspect, but once they lost figure skating, they lost their soul, their identity.”

Fu Yiqing frowned, turning to look at her, confusion in his eyes.

“That student never skated again.” Zhu Xinhui seemed haunted by a cruel memory, taking a deep breath. “She was plagued by injury, and in the end… she died.”

Fu Yiqing had anticipated a tragic outcome, but hearing it aloud struck him harder than he imagined.

“Died?” he asked painfully.

“Yes. She committed suicide. She wasn’t a famous athlete, so not even a single report was left behind.”

*

After some time, Zhao Anhong was pulled out of the patient room by Shu Yutian.

Shu Yutian was still saying, “Alright, alright, isn’t it all said? Let her calm down for a while.”

“If she keeps ‘calming down’ what then? She’s already posted on Weibo. What do we do now?” Zhao Anhong cried, tears streaming. “How can she be so careless with her body?”

Xu Jingyu comforted her. “Aunt Zhao, it’s just a Weibo post. If we convince her, she can always change her mind later. It’s not as serious as you think.”

She signaled to Qin Liubei, who quickly followed up, “Shu Ran’s injured now. Whatever she does, netizens will understand. Aunt Zhao, you don’t have to worry.”

Their words soothed Zhao Anhong.

Only after the Shu couple had calmed did Zhu Xinhui say, “Jingyu, you two go in and try to persuade her.”

Qin Liubei accompanied Xu Jingyu into the room. No more arguing could be heard, but soon they came out again.

Meeting the hopeful gazes of the others, both sighed and shook their heads.

“Coach Fu?” Zhu Xinhui prompted.

Fu Yiqing glanced at her, as if struggling internally. After a moment’s hesitation, he pushed open the door.

He had barely entered when the girl on the bed spoke first. “If you’re here to persuade me, let me make it clear: I will compete. No matter how many times you come, this is my only answer.”

Fu Yiqing paused, lost in thought.

For a long while, the room was silent, as if everyone had left and only she remained. Shu Ran turned her head and saw Fu Yiqing still standing at the foot of the bed.

Her moist, determined eyes met his conflicted gaze; neither spoke.

“Coach Fu, are you here to persuade me, too?”

He shouldn’t have nodded, but her unusually calm tone made him realize her seriousness and composure, so he did.

He silently walked to her bedside and sat, intending to help smooth her hair.

She turned her face away.

“Shu Ran.”

“I’m very calm now. You all want me to give up, but have you considered how I feel? Maybe I’ll spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair, but if I give up now, I’ll spend my life in regret.” She hung her head, sighing. “Coach, I thought you’d understand me best.”

She said it, and Zhu Xinhui had said much the same. Fu Yiqing felt an unprecedented sense of confusion and helplessness.

Thinking of Zhu Xinhui’s student who shared Shu Ran’s experience, his heart trembled.

“How, tell me, can I help you?”

Shu Ran was stunned. “What?”

Fu Yiqing spoke slowly. “If you compete, you might lose your leg. If you don’t, all your past effort is wasted. Tell me—which should I choose?”

Was he asking her?

Shu Ran couldn’t react at first, but soon she understood from the vacant look in his eyes.

He was lost. It sounded like he was asking her, but really he was asking himself.

Though she had only known Fu Yiqing for three years, they spent more time together than she did with her family. She used to think she understood him well, but now she realized perhaps he wasn’t as composed and in control as she thought.

“Coach?” She reached out, waving her hand before his empty eyes.

Fu Yiqing’s face was solemn. “Answer me one question.”

“Ah?”

“If the doctor says, competing will definitely cost you a leg, and you’ll spend your life in a wheelchair, would you still compete?”

“Yes.”

She answered almost without thinking, unwavering in her gaze. “Even if I’m paralyzed, I will compete!”

Her immediate response shocked him, but he kept a calm exterior, eyes narrowed. “No regrets?”

“Who can say what the future holds? But without figure skating, I might spend every day in regret. I would collapse.”

He stared at her for a long time.

His gaze made Shu Ran anxious, unsure what he was getting at. “Coach, what’s wrong?”

“I promise you—you can compete.”

“Huh?” Shu Ran was bewildered. “You’re not lying?”

Fu Yiqing’s gaze was complex as he met her eyes. “Your determination convinced me.”

Her eyes lit up instantly, but the joy faded just as quickly. “But my parents won’t agree.”

“If they don’t, will you still insist?”

Shu Ran lowered her eyes, a little disappointed, but nodded.

He gently patted her head. “I’ll help you persuade them.”

“Is that possible?”

A long-lost smile appeared on his face. “Do you trust me?”

She blinked her large eyes and nodded.

“Then focus on recovery. Leave everything else to me.”

Those words swept away the gloom that had hung over Shu Ran for days. She had heard so many objections; no one knew her injury better than she did. She had to bear the pressure alone, struggling harder than anyone. But not until Fu Yiqing said those words.

Her eyes reddened; she grinned and laughed with him.