As everyone knows, competitive sports are one of the most cutthroat industries. A score that might have been a world record two years ago, only achievable by top athletes, could be matched by all elite players just a couple of years later.

After all, everyone competing aims to win, and there’s a saying in the industry: “If you want to secure a championship, you have to perform at a level that breaks the current world record.” If your opponents are strong enough, even a record-breaking performance might not guarantee a victory. After all, it’s possible for multiple athletes to be capable of setting new records in the same era.

While breaking human limits is difficult, among billions of people, there are bound to be a few rare geniuses. If they all happen to compete at the same time, the event can turn into a brutal showdown.

The main culprit behind the latest showdown and his teammates stepped onto the podium at the Sochi figure skating team event, earning his first Olympic medal. Although it was bronze, everyone was thrilled.

Vasily and Daria both won gold in the team event and stood on the podium with bright smiles. Ilya happened to be standing on the far right of the group, right next to Zhang Jue.

He extended his fist toward Zhang Jue, full of burning determination.

“The individual event is on the 13th. That’s when we’ll face each other head-on.”

Zhang Jue bumped fists with him.

The next day, Zhang Jue accounted for the time difference and took out his phone to start a video call across countries.

When Qin Xuejun answered, the first thing she heard was Zhang Jue’s eager voice: “How’s the kid doing, mom?”

His impatient tone sounded like a dad who had been working abroad for ten years and hadn’t seen his child.

Qin Xuejun twitched at the corner of her mouth: “Saori just woke up.”

Hamsters are nocturnal creatures, but Zhang Jue liked feeding his hamster during the day, so Saori had grown used to living a reversed schedule. Now that Zhang Jue was abroad, with Erde touring with a rock band, Zhang Qingyan and Xu Yan running the restaurant, Saori had been left in Qin Xuejun’s care. As a result, she adjusted the hamster’s schedule back to normal.

Hamsters only live three to four years, and Zhang Jue constantly disrupted its natural rhythm. If Saori passed away early, Zhang Jue would probably cry.

“And who are you calling ‘mom’?”

Zhang Jue coughed: “My bad, I meant to say godmother… no, godfather. Come on, let me see Saori.”

Qin Xuejun sighed, picked up Saori from her cage, and Zhang Jue immediately pressed his face close to the screen.

“Saori, this is an Olympic medal. It’s bronze, but that’s okay. In a few days, I’ll win another one in a different color to show you.”

Saori, perched in Qin Xuejun’s palm, was focused on munching sunflower seeds, while her dad’s voice droned on from the odd-looking device in front of her. She occasionally glanced up, her small eyes showing affection and fondness, but since her paws were full of tasty seeds, she didn’t bother approaching the screen.

Besides, she couldn’t reach it anyway.

Qin Xuejun: …

She felt like nothing more than a hamster holder, and why did Zhang Jue call her “mom”? Sure, young people joke around when they’re close, but had their relationship really reached the point of assigning parenthood to pets? Though, she did consider Zhang Jue a very good friend…

“I think, appearance-wise, you’d make a better ‘mom’ for Saori than me.”

Zhang Jue replied without looking up: “No male moms allowed.”

Qin Xuejun: So I can be a male mom?

On the 11th and 12th, there were the pair skating short programs. During this time, Zhang Jue wasn’t just holed up doing homework; he also accepted an invitation from Maquen to join a gathering of male singles skaters.

Maquen was the host, and attendees included Zhang Jue, Hayato Teraoka, Ilya, Vasily, and David Casulay.

These five were likely to be in the final group for the men’s singles, and besides them, participants included Alex, the successor to the French champion Martin, Czech champion Juventus, South Korea’s Cui Zhengshu, Spain’s Rojas, and Norway’s Arlan Helge.

The North American skaters didn’t attend because they were busy cheering at the snowboarding venue, where American snowboarding legend Shaun White, nicknamed “The Flying Tomato,” was competing in his third Winter Olympics after winning two previous golds.

Even though Zhang Jue had battled through injuries and growth spurts to make a remarkable comeback, Shaun White’s story was even more impressive. Born with a congenital heart defect, only 10% of people with his condition survive to adulthood. After multiple surgeries, Shaun not only defeated death but also achieved extraordinary success in snowboarding, one of the most extreme sports.

Everyone brought their own drinks and snacks, ensuring a fair and friendly gathering while making it easy for athletes on a diet to attend. Even if someone only brought two bottles of water, no one would make fun of them.

They were all figure skaters, after all—who doesn’t need to watch their weight?

The group found a bright, clean restaurant and had a friendly conversation, blending English and French.

Skaters like Vasily and Maquen, who had their own commercial brands, invited those they were close to participate in their post-season shows: “Everyone gets paid,” they said: “You get your money, and my brand benefits from your popularity. It’s a win-win.”

Zhang Jue was the most sought-after guest because there were fans of good looks everywhere, especially in figure skating. Zhang Jue, with his handsome face, was the type most popular at skating shows.

However, Zhang Jue felt a little embarrassed about it: “Sorry, I’m a senior in high school, and I’ll be preparing for college entrance exams in June and July. I have to check with my mom before I can agree to join any shows.”

Everyone understood. David Casulay patted his shoulder: “Balancing both the Olympics and school while recovering your technique so well is amazing. I heard your grades are pretty good too, right?”

Foreign fans had also commented before that Zhang Jue was an academic overachiever.

Zhang Jue was modest: “They’re just okay.”

In reality, his grades had dropped quite a bit due to his focus on the Winter Olympics.

David smiled: “Being able to study is a privilege.”

David’s parents had passed away, and since figure skating was expensive, he had to rely on extreme sports videos to earn tips from wealthy fans. University was out of reach for him at the time, but luckily, he had recently landed a local endorsement deal for a Belgian snack brand, which helped him save up enough to return to school next semester. He cherished the opportunity to continue his studies.

The conversation then shifted to the future of men’s figure skating. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that the skaters at this table represented the past, present, and future of the sport, and their ideas could shape its direction.

Ilya firmly stated: “Quad jumps are the future of men’s singles. If you’re a man, you’ve got to do quads. In the next few years, more skaters will master new quads, and the number of quads in competition programs will only increase.”

In the past, top male skaters typically included two quads in their free skate, but one of the skaters at the table had already broken this unwritten “rule.” As the difficulty of the sport continues to evolve, skaters will need to perform more quads to avoid being left behind by the times.

Quad jumps.

Maquen added: “But judges still favor consistent skaters. Even if you can land five or six quads in your program, if your consistency isn’t there, you might still lose to someone who can cleanly land three.

“Consistency.

Hayato Teraoka chimed in: “Figure skating is the art of the ice. No matter how much the technique evolves, we can’t ignore the importance of performance. If your skating, upper body fluidity, and expression are on point, your performance won’t be bad.”

“Artistry.”

For these top-tier athletes with high expectations, if a skater wanted to dominate the competition and earn their respect, they had to meet certain criteria. Otherwise, that skater wouldn’t be considered a true champion.

In the previous era, it had been a rivalry between Vasily and Maquen, with both being all-around skaters. One was more technically proficient, while the other excelled in artistry. Martin and Sergey would occasionally make waves, too.

As for the next era, there were more than a few young skaters who perfectly fit their expectations.

Everyone subtly glanced at the “fairy boy,” who was teaching Ilya how to play a hand-slapping game, then looked at Hayato Teraoka, who was holding his own barley tea.

Although the three of them never gave an inch on the competition field, their relationship off the ice was surprisingly good.

Vasily still remembered how, in his younger days, he and Maquen were constantly at each other’s throats. Neither would back down, and whenever they competed in each other’s home arenas, they would be met with boos. That was how intense it was. Only now, as they got older, had they finally made peace.

The only concern people had was that all three of them had histories of taking breaks due to injuries. There’s an old saying that an athlete’s biggest enemy is always injury. In the end, besides their skill, these three might have to rely on their physical endurance too.

Ilya nudged Zhang Jue: “Tama-chan, what do you think is the most important thing for a male singles skater?”

Zhang Jue thought for a moment.

“Well, of course, it’s the drive to constantly improve. No matter how skilled the top athletes of this era are, as those who come after, we must show even greater strength than those before us, just like how our juniors will need to surpass us.”

“If the next generation only wins because the older athletes have worn down with age, then the veterans would only be losing to time. Real men should go head-to-head and settle things with pure skill!”

Not only did they want to win, but they wanted to win beautifully. They constantly chased new heights, pushing the limits of the sport, keeping figure skating exciting.

Through their performances, each of the seniors had their own thoughts.

Ilya, hailing from the “warrior nation,” was actually the most gentle in temperament, and coming from Boris’s tutelage, he had the calm demeanor of a prince from a famous lineage.

Hayato Teraoka, the hope of Japanese male singles skating, was nurtured by his coach through painstaking effort. He seemed gentle but was actually sharp and cold.

As for Zhang Jue, he was the one everyone in figure skating had watched grow from a little kid into what he was today—daring, fearless, and aggressive, with possibly the highest talent.

Besides them, there were also the tenacious David, Alex who inherited Martin’s will, and the two North American prodigies…

With them around, the future of figure skating was truly something to look forward to.

Later, they spun a half-empty water bottle and played a game of truth or dare.

Zhang Jue had bad luck. He chose truth first and had to reveal how many times his coach had hit him (so many that he’d lost count), whether he had a crush (he’d been single for two lifetimes), and Zhang Junbao’s chest measurement…

The last question was asked by David. Zhang Jue glared at him and slowly spit out a number, causing the entire room to gasp.

Zhang Jue cleared his throat and picked up Maquen’s unfinished soda bottle: “Don’t say I was the one who told you.”

David quickly responded: “Okay, okay, I was just curious. I swear I’m not interested in your uncle, he looks just as straight as you.”

Seeing Zhang Jue put the bottle back, David secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Afterward, Zhang Jue hugged the first person he met outside the door (Arthur Cohen, who had just returned from watching a snowboard competition, was overjoyed).

He also stood on the table and started singing Memory, instantly drawing everyone’s attention. He only made it through a third of the song before he couldn’t continue, covering his face as he climbed off the table.

It was Cui Zhengshu who lent Zhang Jue his lucky necklace, allowing Zhang Jue to escape the next round of bad luck. However, Cui Zhengshu himself wasn’t so lucky, ending up having to call the first contact in his phone and shout “I love you” three times. (His coach, Saren, was left stunned and, after a few seconds of thought, began drafting a letter of rejection.)

In any case, despite not believing in superstitions, that necklace Cui Zhengshu had gotten from a temple seemed to have some real power. Zhang Jue, feeling a bit guilty, asked Cui Zhengshu for a favor—wear the necklace for him while drawing lots.

“I swear, I’ll give it right back after the draw.”

Zhang Jue tightly gripped Cui Zhengshu’s hands, looking at him with sincere eyes.

Facing this overwhelming beauty, Cui Zhengshu’s gaze flickered: “Alright, alright, I’ll do it. Please let go of my hands.”

Did this kid even realize that with a height difference of 17 centimeters, being stared at like that was really intimidating?

Zhang Jue raised both hands in a cheer, gave Cui Zhengshu another hug, leaving the small South Korean man blushing. Cui Zhengshu also caught a faint whiff of aftershave.

In his heart, he screamed: This kid is underage, and he’s straight, I’m straight, I have to hold it together!

…

The next day, Zhang Jue drew the third spot in the final group.

He really managed to draw a good lot!

 

 

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