At some point, H Province Television began having dedicated figure skating commentary, featuring former provincial team member Zheng Jialong and retired former pairs skating champion Jin Meng.
Zheng Jialong, holding the microphone, said: “Alright, now it’s the six-minute warm-up. Ilya just attempted a quadruple Salchow jump, and it looked pretty good. His main weak point this season has been this jump, so hopefully, he won’t fall during the competition again. Zhang Jue tried a 4Lo, but his landing was a bit shaky. Since it’s a jump he just learned, it seems he’s not fully comfortable with it yet. Arthur Cohen fell on his 3A again—this jump is the Achilles’ heel for North American male skaters. Our Zhang Jue, though, has a nearly 100% success rate with the 3A. Super steady.”
Since it wasn’t national television, Zheng Jialong’s commentary was more casual, and he didn’t hold back when pointing out flaws in other countries’ athletes.
Jin Meng smiled and agreed: “Watching Zhang Jue do a 3A, I never worry about him falling. Japan’s Hayato Teraoka is also stable with the 3A, but Japanese skaters have always been uniquely skilled in this area. It’s just like how our country’s male skaters are more stable when going through growth spurts—it’s become a characteristic. For example, Cha Hanbuhua grew a lot recently, but he hasn’t lost any of his technique.”
There had long been talk about how Zhang Jue’s coaching team was excellent at helping skaters through their growth spurts. Even with the extreme difficulty of Zhang Jue’s jumps, he managed to get through it. Cha Hanbuhua grew 7 centimeters and gained 9 kilograms during his development, but he didn’t even need special help—he didn’t “sink,” and now he had won the Junior Grand Prix Final gold medal in men’s singles, with his technique remaining stable and improving.
Jin Meng sighed inwardly, thinking that if she had had such a group of coaches to help her during her growth spurt, she might not have fractured her bones, sustaining hidden injuries that severely affected her career longevity.
Arthur Cohen, who finished last in the short program, was the first to skate in the free program. The young man fell twice out of eight jumps, but he managed to land his two critical quadruple jumps. Among top-tier male skaters, this performance was above the passing line. Young athletes often have more potential than they realize.
The second skater, David, also performed well. As a master of extreme sports—able to free climb and cave dive—his mental toughness was naturally strong. As a leading figure in European men’s figure skating, his performance this year was not inferior to the great Maquen in his prime.
Zheng Jialong offered a fair evaluation: “Of course, figure skating is evolving. If he wants to reach a higher level, he’ll need to start challenging a second type of quadruple jump. But that will be a tough challenge for David, considering he’s 1.86 meters tall.”
David fell on his 3Lo, which was his weak point and his biggest mistake in the competition.
Sergei, the eternal “second place” Russian skater, unexpectedly delivered this time. His free skate music was from the movie Beowulf, beginning with a powerful and heroic performance and ending with a soft female vocal section.
Jin Meng commented: “This is the most fitting program for Sergei’s temperament that I’ve seen so far. It balances strength and gentleness, and his jumps were excellent. It’s a very impressive performance.”
Zheng Jialong added: “The most important thing is that he didn’t fall today. This athlete has great ability, but he missed out on the Sochi Olympics due to injuries and other reasons. It’s a shame. Seeing him perform so well at such an important event as the Grand Prix Final is really something to be happy about.”
Zhang Jue, standing at the rink’s edge, whispered to the coaches: “This program would work well for exhibition skating too.”
Zhang Junbao agreed: “Yes, we could invite him to try it.”
Zhang Jue was confident: “I’ve already invited him. Vasily said that if we can sort out the entry paperwork for Sergei’s cat, we’ll have Sergei on board. The commercial performance is in May or June next year, so we can start working on the paperwork now.”
No one asked why Vasily and Ilya were advising Zhang Jue on this or why Zhang Jue was so familiar with their nicknames. After all, in Russia, nicknames are used between close friends.
What could they say? Zhang Jue just had a way with bears.
When Ilya took the ice, the audience’s anticipation was noticeably higher.
Russian male skaters had won Olympic gold for three consecutive cycles, with each period having a dominant male skater. But in the Pyeongchang cycle, Ilya wasn’t the standout among the three Russian stars.
One reason was that Zhang Jue was simply too strong, and he was two years younger than both Ilya and Hayato Teraoka. In competitive sports, youth and health are undeniable assets. But Ilya also had another shortcoming: he hadn’t found the right style for his performances.
Hayato Teraoka was firmly committed to a traditional Japanese aesthetic, favoring classical music from both East and West, which he could perform flawlessly. Ilya, on the other hand, leaned more towards modern styles.
While his technical skills were solid, if a male skater wore a costume that didn’t match his ethereal appearance and skated to music that didn’t suit his style, he would inevitably fall behind. And besides his jumps, Ilya’s skating didn’t compare to Hayato’s, and his spins weren’t as elegant as Zhang Jue’s, so falling behind was inevitable.
While Ilya was skating, Vasily and Boris were already discussing how, after this season, they needed to find a professional performance coach to help polish Ilya’s skills. In today’s men’s figure skating, just being able to jump wasn’t enough. One misstep, and a stronger competitor could easily surpass you. Even the advantage of nationality couldn’t always make up for a lack of skill.
“How about we get Ilya to try learning drama and musical theater?”
“Good idea.”
By contrast, Zhang Jue, who actually had experience in musical theater and could even sing opera, appeared much more at ease. His program, The Tree of Life, was inherently emotional, exploring love for one’s parents. From the very start, his performance was rich with feeling.
Not only did Zhang Jue have the highest level of body expressiveness to support his performance, but this gave him an even greater advantage in the artistic aspects of his skating.
Before the competition, Zhang Jue had been interviewed not only by domestic journalists but also by a foreign reporter. The foreign reporter didn’t ask many questions, only focusing on the creative process behind his free skate.
“How did you come up with the idea of choreographing your own program?”
“Why did you create this particular program?”
“And why did you choose the music you did?”
It wasn’t rare for athletes to choreograph their own programs. Zhang Jue might have done it to expand his skill set, to save money on choreography fees, or simply to prove that he could. So the first two questions were easy to answer. But the final question was different.
The reporter pointed out that Zhang Jue’s program was called The Tree of Life, yet he chose to open with Oceano (Ocean), followed by Mother’s Journey, and ending with Wild Side.
The seamless editing of these three pieces of music was already an impressive feat, but Zhang Jue also managed to make the music fit his performance perfectly. How had he done it? Why had he chosen to do it this way?
Zhang Jue’s answer at the time was: “Life begins in the ocean, and my parents are my ocean. I came into being because of them.”
That was the reason he chose the first piece of music.
With that in mind, the young skater crossed his feet, leapt high into the air, and completed a high, far-reaching, and high-quality 4Lo.
As for the next two pieces of music, the reason he chose Mother’s Journey was because Zhang Jue felt that he shared many similarities with his mother. Their appearance and personalities were so alike that, in some moments, he found himself making decisions just like her. It was as if, through his life, he could see the reflection of his mother within himself.
Zhang Jue believed that the path he had walked might have been partially the same as his mother’s old path. So, when he heard that piece of music, he was naturally moved by it.
As for “Wild Side,” the explanation was even simpler. After a child is born and grows up under the guidance of their mother, their path is to leave the ocean, spread their wings, and fly.
Zhang Jue thought that for humans, flying was the most crazy thing to do. Even though they didn’t have wings, they still longed for and chased the sky.
In summary: “Tree of Life” was a performance filled with Zhang Jue’s personal style, completely driven by his own thoughts. It expressed his love for his parents, but as he skated, the center of the performance was still himself.
In fact, what Zhang Jue displayed was simply the inner world of an ordinary person—someone who wants to pursue dreams and loves their parents. He was born and grew up, and that was it.
But this simple story was actually praised by a well-known sports journalist as “one of the most touching single-skating programs of this century.”
The journalist didn’t say it was the most touching figure skating program because there was another category called ice dancing, which doesn’t involve jumps and lifts above the shoulders. It is known for its skating and performance, and the legendary performances of the retired pair, Jin Meng/Yao Lan, were also classic. Zhang Jue, being young, was not yet on the “most” list.
But everyone agreed that Zhang Jue was the one who took the performance advantages of single skating, which emphasized jumps, to the extreme: “Tree of Life” had a power that would touch viewers, even those who didn’t understand figure skating.
Leaving aside the technical moves, it was a great program, especially considering that Zhang Jue’s technical difficulty was world-class.
The applause swept through the whole venue like a tide, so loud it could drown out the background music. But Zhang Jue’s mind was still playing the music, so the audience’s love didn’t affect him.
When the last note dropped, Zhang Jue tilted his head back, sweat trickled down his neck, then he turned his head and gave a big smile to the camera.
He looked like a small, energetic sun.
Zhang Junbao stood at the sidelines, puzzled: “This kid is like my sister in many ways, but this part, I don’t know who he got it from.”
Shen Liu asked: “What part?”
Zhang Junbao replied: “It’s the way he expresses his love so passionately, even making a program that shouts ‘Mom and Dad, I love you’ to the world.”
Oh my, if his sister saw this, she would be moved but also very shy, wouldn’t she?
But in an age where many people are embarrassed to say ‘I love you,’ being able to love is also a talent.
Zhang Jue’s talent in this regard was at an explosive level, which is why his expressiveness and emotional power were astonishing. His program was pure and rich, transcending skin color, age, and gender, and it was something anyone who saw it could understand.
So, from the moment this program was performed, people started calling it the best men’s singles program of the 21st century.
The most gratifying thing was that the athlete performing the program was in his prime—young and healthy.
His youth allowed him to express his emotions more directly than adults, and his health allowed him to perform the most difficult jumps without any obstacles.
Everything was just right, which led to the birth of a classic.
This victory was unquestionable for Zhang Jue.
After the performance, Zhang Jue, who had previously been called the “uncrowned king” within the figure skating community, broke through the circle. The number of shares of his free skate video exceeded 2 million on Weibo alone, not to mention on Twitter and YouTube. His popularity was no less than the two classic duels of the Sochi Winter Olympics.
High popularity led to high viewership ratings. Zhang Jue’s award ceremony ratings were higher than during the competition, as countless new fans tuned in after being introduced to him.
At just 17 years old, the young man stood on the ice rink, draped in his national flag, wearing a gold medal, surrounded by flashing lights and a cheering crowd.
Zhang Jue was crowned after this battle.
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