Chapter Ninety-One: Accommodation and Understanding

Christina had long expected Shu Ran to wear such an expression. She shrugged, as if entirely unconcerned.

Shu Ran hesitated, wanting to speak yet holding back. She had her reservations; though Christina had sought her out, it did not mean she could reveal the reasons behind her visit.

“What disagreement do you have with Quentin?” Fu Yiqing asked.

He spoke in English, which both Shu Ran and Christina understood.

Christina replied, “I’m tired of it all. No matter what, I will never be his pawn again!”

Having said this much, there seemed no room left for compromise.

Shu Ran remained somewhat anxious. She had always observed Christina from afar on the ice rink, never imagining they would sit together like ordinary friends today.

Fu Yiqing did not leave. He asked Aunt Zhang to bring their meals to the hospital room.

Christina gazed longingly at the food on Shu Ran’s table, her throat unconsciously making a swallowing motion.

“…”

Shu Ran paused, then asked, “Are you hungry? If you like, my coach can take you out for a meal.”

Christina shook her head quickly. “No, your coach must be well-known in your country. If someone saw us together and recognized me, it wouldn’t be good.”

That was true.

Shu Ran nodded, then said, “Aunt Zhang, is there another bowl?”

Aunt Zhang was momentarily puzzled. “There is. Is Mr. Fu eating as well?”

Fu Yiqing shook his head helplessly. “Just bring her another bowl. I won’t eat.”

With a sidelong glance, Aunt Zhang finally noticed Christina sitting nearby.

She understood at once and divided the food into two portions.

Shu Ran picked up the bowl of rice and handed it to Christina. “If you don’t mind, we can share this meal.”

Christina took the bowl, her eyes shining. “Shu Ran, you’re so kind. If you get hungry later, I can put on a mask and go buy food for you.”

They spoke in English, so Fu Yiqing did not need to translate. Their spoken English was nearly on par, and with gestures and expressions to aid them, Fu Yiqing’s presence as a translator gradually faded.

Today, Aunt Zhang had prepared braised beef brisket with tomato and potato, bacon stir-fried with green peppers, and mushrooms sautéed with leafy greens.

Christina hadn’t managed a single bite yet; she was wrestling with the chopsticks.

Shu Ran looked up and saw Christina’s gaze fixed on her right hand, clearly failing to pick up the technique by observation alone.

With a gentle smile, Shu Ran rolled up her sleeve and demonstrated how to hold the chopsticks.

Christina watched and learned with utmost seriousness.

Under Shu Ran’s patient, hands-on instruction, Christina finally managed to hold the chopsticks, though she still couldn’t quite use them properly.

Aunt Zhang laughed from the side and thoughtfully brought her a spoon.

Christina looked up at Aunt Zhang, her voice childlike as she said, “Thank you.”

It wasn’t perfectly pronounced, but the meaning was clear from the context.

Once Aunt Zhang saw they had eaten, she collected the dishes and chatted with Fu Yiqing about Shu Ran’s injury.

Meanwhile, Christina and Shu Ran began talking about the food as they ate.

Christina scooped up a piece of potato, put it in her mouth, and paused for a long moment, not chewing. Only after savoring it for a while did she take another spoonful.

Shu Ran watched her expression, half expecting she might dislike the taste. But then Christina asked, “What is this? I think I taste tomato.”

“There’s beef brisket, tomato, and potato,” Shu Ran replied.

Christina frowned thoughtfully. “I never imagined that potatoes, before being fried into French fries, could be paired with tomato sauce. It’s so creative.”

Shu Ran was momentarily speechless.

Well, that wasn’t exactly wrong.

In the afternoon, Christina stayed in the hospital room, chatting with Shu Ran. Perhaps their lunchtime discussion of Chinese and Western cuisine had loosened their tongues; their bond grew closer.

Then, Christina revealed her reason for not participating in the Winter Olympics.

“I learned about the wager three years ago. My coach, Quentin—well, he’s not my coach anymore—told me then that if I trained his way, I would become world champion. After that, my life was nothing but training.”

Shu Ran instinctively glanced at Fu Yiqing, who sat by the bed, recalling that he had said something similar three years ago. Was this an ISU tactic?

Just then, Fu Yiqing looked up from his magazine and met her gaze, his eyes suggesting he understood her thoughts.

Christina continued, “At first, I was highly motivated and improved rapidly. But when my progress plateaued and there was less room for advancement, the pressure grew, and I trained even longer hours. This season, my results haven’t improved; in fact, they’ve declined. Quentin and I have argued more than once. But giving up the Olympics isn’t just about the pressure.”

Shu Ran was taken aback and, almost involuntarily, asked, “The other reason… is it because of me?”

It was only a passing guess, but Christina nodded.

There was fear in her averted gaze. “When I saw what happened to you, I became afraid it might happen to me too. If all my effort only leads to injuries and I don’t win the world championship, why should I compete at all? I heard about Lorraine…” She suddenly looked up. “Do you know Lorraine?”

Shu Ran’s expression grew solemn. “I do.”

She lowered her face. “I heard she’ll never skate again.”

Not that she couldn’t stand, but that she could never skate.

Shu Ran suddenly realized Christina’s feelings for figure skating ran deeper and more earnestly than she had imagined.

Is it worth walking this path for life, even without winning any titles?

She said nothing more.

Fortunately, Shu Ran’s hospital room had an extra bed. Before Christina’s arrival, it had been occupied by Fu Yiqing or Xu Jingyu when they stayed overnight.

Before bedtime, Fu Yiqing said to Shu Ran, “Be careful.”

Shu Ran replied, “Huh? Are you worried Christina might… That can’t be. Didn’t she say she’s quitting the competition?”

“Better safe than sorry. Especially since she’s come at such a sensitive time. Even if she’s telling the truth, there’s no guarantee Quentin won’t do something,” Fu Yiqing said, gently cupping her face. “Trust me, it’s always wise.”

After an afternoon of conversation, Shu Ran found Christina rather innocent at heart, but to reassure Fu Yiqing, she nodded in agreement.

The next morning, Fu Yiqing told Shu Ran, “Quentin really is looking for someone. Christina was telling the truth.”

Shu Ran asked, “What about the wager?”

“We agreed at the start: if one side withdraws, that side loses,” Fu Yiqing’s gaze softened. “Maybe that’s good news for us. You won’t have to push yourself so hard to win.”

Shu Ran lowered her head and said nothing.

In the days that followed, Christina shared Shu Ran’s hospital room, and whenever she was there, Fu Yiqing never left her side.

With this new friend, Shu Ran’s life felt reinvigorated, as if youth’s vitality had returned.

They chatted about everything under the sun.

On the third day, Shu Ran saw the news online.

“Christina Missing.”

She immediately turned to Christina, who, the very subject of the news, was playing a video game without a care in the world.

“Christina,” Shu Ran called.

Christina was busy pushing towers in the game, not even looking up, her tone cheerful. “What is it?”

“You’re in the news.”

Christina kept playing a while longer before coming over. Upon seeing the news, she remained calm; it was Shu Ran, the outsider, who worried more about the consequences.

Suddenly, Shu Ran asked, “At what age did you start learning figure skating?”

Christina thought for a moment. “Five, I think.”

Shu Ran nodded slightly. “You’re a year younger than me, so we’ve both skated for fourteen years. Actually… I’m not afraid to tell you this: I was already injured before the World Championships.”

Christina’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Shu Ran, you…”

Fu Yiqing, hearing this, could not stay silent. “Shu Ran!” His voice was edged with warning.

Shu Ran glanced at them and continued, “The doctor forbade me from competing, but I said I had to. Though I didn’t succeed, at least I made it through the qualifying event, even if my old injury flared up again. But I have never regretted it. I’m not telling you this to pressure you to compete; I just want to ask you one thing: if you give up the Winter Olympics, will you regret it one day?”

Christina glanced at Fu Yiqing, confusion and uncertainty written in her furrowed brow. “But if I don’t compete, your coach’s wager will win.”

“I know. But I skate, and I risk competing with the chance of losing a leg, not for him to win a wager, but for myself.” Shu Ran’s gaze was resolute. “A figure skater’s career is short. If I can’t prove myself on the ice, all my pain and tears will have been in vain. So whether you compete or not doesn’t mean much to me. No matter how many opponents I face, I’ll do my utmost to perform.”

Figure skating isn’t a solitary sport; it belongs to the skaters, but even more to the audience and judges. Without their applause and cheers, what motivation would she have to surpass herself?

It was the audience’s support that drove her to make her performances perfect.

Rather than chasing trophies, she sought her audience’s recognition.

Christina asked, “Is your injury really that serious—serious enough that competing could result in grave harm?” There was a hint of pity in her eyes. “Aren’t you afraid I’m here to gather information?”

Shu Ran smiled calmly, her gaze clear. “What if you are? I’ll still give my best performance.”

In Christina’s ice-blue eyes, a spark flickered—whether moved or colored by other emotions, it was hard to tell.

“So from my point of view, I hope you’ll compete. In Chinese tradition, it’s important to have no regrets. I want to compete with you at my full strength.” Shu Ran looked at Fu Yiqing. “Coach, would you object?”

Both girls turned their eyes to Fu Yiqing.

He exhaled quietly, then smiled, a touch helpless, a touch indulgent. “Whatever you wish.”

Though Christina didn’t understand the meaning of his words in Chinese, she could guess from his expression and tone. Her eyes darted between Shu Ran and Fu Yiqing, sensing a bond between them that no outsider could break.

Mutual compromise, and mutual understanding.