The national competitions of various countries were generally held around the same time. Perhaps December 27th was the last day of the Russian Nationals, while the Japanese Nationals opened on the same day, and the Canadian Nationals started the next day.

Thus, late December was a time when many experienced skating fans were busy chasing competitions across time zones.

For example, after watching the women’s free skate at the Japanese Nationals, Shiratsuka Masako smiled as she saw her sister stand on the podium to receive the championship. She then quietly returned to her hotel, opened her computer, skillfully bypassed the firewall, and edited the short program of the male skaters from the Chinese Nationals, focusing mainly on Tama-chan, uploading it online. The comment section was filled with skating fans typing “Thank you, Ice-san” with ease.

Ice was Shiratsuka Masako online alias, a devoted fan of famous skaters like Shiratsuka Keiko, and Hayato Teraoka. She was always the first to upload their competition videos or create brilliant edits, often breaking down the technical elements and explaining them in detail. She had become one of the most popular figure skating bloggers on YouTube, with about half the followers of Francis, the top figure skating influencer of YouTuber.

Many of Francis fans were drawn to his beauty videos. Occasionally, Tama-chan would appear as his muse or model, though only about two or three times a year. After all, Tama-chan didn’t have time to play with him every day and would only cooperate during choreography. However, whenever he appeared, a flood of comments admiring his looks would fill the comment section.

The girl muttered: “I wonder what place Tama-chan will skate in this time?”

Zhang Jue: First in the last group.

Zhang Jue’s return not only amazed the skating fans but also his old friends. For instance, when Maskao saw Zhang Jue skate, she remained oddly silent, seemingly frozen in awe. The quality of his program was exceptionally high. Although his jumps weren’t as difficult as before, Masako keenly noticed the key difference.

“The jumping technique has changed. The sense of power and hang time is much stronger, but he still looks light, meaning his strength has significantly improved. His skating and spins also look much better.”

In the past, Zhang Jue’s skating and spins were more for show—judges would give him a level 3, maybe even a 2 if they were in a bad mood. But now, his skating and spins were solid, and it would be impossible for him to be marked down to level 2 in competition.

It was just one off-season and half a competitive season, and he had already transformed his technique like this. Truly impressive.

Masako sighed as she posted the video, then took a longer look at the comments section, realizing that she wasn’t the only one stunned by Tama-chan’s beauty.

Keiko even used her alternate account to scream in the comments: “Oh my God, was this not even his peak during the World Championships?”

What could she say? It was like raising a cat—the kitten you first bring home is cute, and the adult cat is also stunning, but in between, there’s an awkward phase where the cat hasn’t fully grown. This stage is often called the “awkward phase.”

Zhang Jue, however, was one of those rare ones who still looked beautiful during his “awkward phase” and then grew up to become a total heartthrob. In the words of Japanese skating fans, he became “The Ice Prince of the Empire.”

The title was a bit embarrassing, but luckily Zhang Jue wasn’t aware of it.

Zhang Jue was first after the short program and the last to skate in the free skate, so now he was watching Dong Xiaolong’s program seriously.

As a veteran skater, Dong Xiaolong’s overall level was the strongest after Zhang Jue and Jin Zixuan. Unlike jumping ability, which declines with age and injury, skating skills and performance can improve with years of practice—though it all depended on how his legs were holding up.

Today, Dong’s legs were in good shape, and he completed all his technical elements. Since the points gap between third and sixth after the short program was small, Dong immediately moved into first place with a total score of 242 points.

Don’t think that’s a low score. When Shen Liu was still competing, he usually scored above 250, and it was considered an extraordinary performance for anyone else to score over 210. Dong Xiaolong’s 240+ was his best of the season.

Seeing that score made Fan Zhaoying, Shi Mosheng, and Liu Yemeng a little nervous. Jin Zixuan managed to stay calm, and though Zhang Jue clapped enthusiastically, there wasn’t a ripple in his heart.

He remained lively and friendly as he watched the others skate. No matter if they achieved their season’s best or broke their personal records, he was genuinely happy for them.

Jin Zixuan fell once and scored 248.6 points. Upon seeing his score, a thought crossed his mind—was this also a kind of disdain?

Zhang Jue gave his opponents the respect they deserved but never feared them. His relaxed, carefree posture made it seem like he wasn’t even there to compete. Should Jin Zixuan admire this composure, or feel regret that he still hadn’t managed to threaten Zhang?

It wasn’t that Jin Zixuan was overthinking, nor was it that Zhang Jue underestimated his opponents. It was simply that Zhang had always been this way, even in his past life. His self-focused personality meant that the more critical the moment, the more he only cared about his own performance. Though he had been criticized for this during his idol debut, Zhang Jue never looked down on anyone.

He glided onto the ice lightly, his deep blue “Heavenly Maiden’s Feathered Garment” costume wrapping his tall, toned figure. The shimmering wings entwined around his arms, like a reflection of the night sky on a lake.

When designing this costume, Zhang Jue had wanted to use black as the main color. However, Francis, Shen Liu, and other Olympic medalists firmly opposed it, citing a superstitious reason—wearing blue in an Olympic season gave a better chance of winning.

Given how much bad luck Zhang had experienced, everyone, including Coach Lu, stood by Francis and Shen Liu on this issue. Zhang Jue had no choice but to go with dark blue, resembling the night sky.

Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but from the moment Zhang stepped onto the ice, all the joy disappeared from his face. A faint sharpness began to emerge, giving Zhang an air of fierce competitiveness.

Like “Firebird,” Zhang Jue’s free skate “Rain, in Your Black Eyes” was still in its rough stage. He hadn’t yet been able to fully immerse himself in the program, so he chose to get through the National Championships with a different approach—by showing off.

As an ethereal, handsome man, skating with a cold expression created an air of mystery. While the program might feel somewhat hollow, it was undoubtedly captivating to watch.

With arms longer than his height and a body made flexible through dance training, his movements had a natural beauty. From the moment the program began, many fans fell into a reverent silence, not daring to speak.

Accompanied by the sound of rain, Zhang’s left foot tapped the ice, leading into a 4T. The sound was crisp, and as he landed, his leg lifted like a blooming ice flower, but his blade slipped, and he nearly fell.

Everyone knew that if he fell, the GOE (Grade of Execution) would be wiped out, and he’d face the mandatory -1 point deduction.

So, he steadied himself, placing his left foot down to avoid the fall.

Zhang Junbao covered his face: “A two-foot landing! He finally did a full rotation 4T, but still made a mistake.”

His long legs caused a higher center of gravity, making it hard to maintain a stable axis in jumps. The only way to compensate for this was by strengthening his core, which Zhang Jue had been doing, but he needed at least another month to fully solidify his progress.

Fortunately, that was his only mistake. Afterward, he executed everything else with the precision of a machine, even showcasing his dance moves during the step sequences, turning the program into a stunning visual feast.

As a performer, Zhang Jue’s strength lay in his attention to detail. But Madam Mia could only roll her eyes.

“There’s too much craftsmanship.”

This wasn’t a performer’s program but a dancer’s flawless display of technique and body control. It was visually mesmerizing but lacked the emotional depth to truly touch the audience.

Francis muttered: “Not necessarily. Pure beauty can also move people.”

Beauty, after all, is subjective. While they found the program emotionally empty, the audience might find it deeply moving.

Madam Mia shook her head: “Zhang Jue won’t be satisfied. He didn’t go through all that suffering to become a dance machine.”

She looked at the boy on the ice, her prized student in her later years. Although he didn’t take the path of a ballet dancer, he had shown world-class potential in figure skating, often called “ballet on ice.”

At that moment, he was kneeling on one knee, leaning back, his hands gently brushing the ice like a dance god stepping into reality. As the music stopped, fans eagerly rushed to the front row, tossing stuffed animals onto the ice.

The rain of plush toys and the enthusiastic cheers as the performer stood up and bowed were proof of his immense popularity.

But he was undoubtedly suppressing his dissatisfaction with himself.

Mia let out a breath and smiled.

Mia sighed, and a small smile slowly appeared on her face.

Knowing that he wasn’t content meant there was still room for improvement. With two months left until the Winter Olympics, Zhang Jue would have time to make up for his shortcomings.

That day, the China Skating Federation posted the list of athletes representing them at the Sochi Winter Olympics on its official website.

At the top of the men’s singles list was Zhang Jue’s name.

Men’s Singles: Zhang Jue, Jin Zixuan, Dong Xiaolong, Liu Yeming (substitute).

At the same time, Song Cheng received a notification from above.

“Tell your star coach, the cafeteria lady, and the athletes to pack their bags. The day after tomorrow, they’ll be gathering in Chongqing for high-altitude training.”

Song Cheng slowly typed a question mark: ?

High-altitude training can enhance the body’s oxygen-carrying capacity, significantly boosting an athlete’s physical performance. It’s often referred to as a “legal stimulant” in sports. Engaging in such training until two weeks before the competition can greatly improve an athlete’s results.

With the Winter Olympics approaching, sending the athletes for another round of high-altitude training was a good move. Zhang Jue’s recovery in quadruple jumps was just shy of perfection, so the timing for this breakthrough was ideal. He understood the reasoning behind it, but why did they have to bring along the cafeteria lady too?

 

Support translation: