What was the most important issue that every world-class athlete needed to consider as the season was about to begin?

This naturally varied from person to person.

Some had to consider their physical condition, wondering if they should hold back a bit in the early part of the season and only go all out during the crucial moments, to avoid exhausting themselves too soon. Others debated whether to risk using new skills they had just developed in the first half of the season, using the competition to refine them. However, they worried that the new techniques might cause too many mistakes, leading to a disastrous performance and potentially missing the finals.

But for Zhang Jue, the first thing he needed to think about this year was which competitions he could participate in.

It was well known that athletes had world rankings, and the International Skating Union had set a rule that figure skaters’ rankings were based on points, which were earned by participating in competitions and finishing in certain positions.

If an athlete participated in all the competitions they were supposed to in a season, they would accumulate enough points, and by the end of the season, the athlete ranked first in the world would even receive a cash prize from the Skating Union.

Unfortunately, although Zhang Jue currently held the title of the “uncrowned king” of the men’s singles event, his world ranking had only dropped to seventh because he had only participated in the latter half of last season. On the other hand, Hayato Teraoka, who had competed in every event of the previous season and had performed well, was ranked first in the men’s singles.

Due to injuries and growth-related issues during the season before last, Zhang Jue had missed the Four Continents Championship, so he had not been able to finish within the top five in the world that season, even though he had won silver medals at both the Grand Prix Final and the World Championships, the most important events.

This year, Zhang Jue finally joined the national team, and even Sun Qian hoped that he would deliver impressive results this year to prove that he was doing well on the national team and to earn a world ranking that matched his abilities.

Zhang Junbao exchanged glances with Coach Lu and Shen Liu, then, in agreement, went to ask team doctor Yang Zhiyuan for Zhang Jue’s medical report. When they found out that this kid was strong enough to take down a bull, they immediately made their decision.

“Zhang Jue, this year, in addition to the two Grand Prix events, the Final, the Four Continents, and the World Championships, you’ll need to participate in one B-level competition. Aim to rank first on the points leaderboard this season.”

Zhang Jue had just finished a set of quadruple jumps, and as he was blowing his nose, he casually tossed the tissue into the trash can and responded nonchalantly.

“Oh.”

Sun Qian, eager for the discussion, added: “B-level events take place earlier than A-level events. How about letting him compete in the Autumn Classic in Canada?”

Zhang Junbao shook his head repeatedly: “No, we can’t send him there. The time difference between North America and here is too big, and Zhang Jue is terrible at adjusting to time zones.”

With a 13-hour time difference, unless Zhang Jue went five days early, he would struggle to perform well.

Sun Qian asked: “Hasn’t he been competing for several years? Has he still not mastered adjusting to time zones?”

Shen Liu replied: “That kid is naturally bad at it. Let’s just find a nearby B-level event where he doesn’t have to deal with much of a time difference.”

After some back and forth, Coach Lu made the final call: “The Challenger Series events are all B-level. We don’t necessarily have to compete abroad. Isn’t Chongqing hosting one this year? Let’s have Zhang Jue compete in that.”

“As for the Grand Prix Final, it’s in Barcelona, Spain, this year. Have the competition schedules for the preliminary rounds been released?”

Zhang Junbao pulled out his notebook: “Yes, they’ve been released. The competitions are later this year, with the first one starting on October 24.”

The first stop was the U.S.

The second was Canada.

The third was China.

The fourth was Russia.

The fifth was France.

The sixth was Japan.

Sun Qian quickly chimed in: “Zhang Jue must participate in the Chinese leg this year. Domestic skating fans have already gathered to petition for it.”

It was indeed unfortunate that although Zhang Jue had become the number-one figure skater in China during his junior years, he rarely competed in domestic competitions. Many Chinese skating fans had never seen his live performances, and in June of this year, thousands of them had left comments on the Chinese Figure Skating Federation’s official website, creating a rare stir in Chinese figure skating.

Zhang Jue had been busy with college entrance exams at the time and was unaware of this, but the coaches had followed the whole situation closely.

Zhang Junbao blinked: “Since Zhang Jue doesn’t like adjusting to time zones, he can’t go to North America. Should we then assign him to the French leg or the Japanese one?”

Coach Lu said: “The ice quality in France is notoriously poor. Let’s send him to Japan. They have a strong winter sports scene, plenty of commercial events, and excellent ice quality.”

And so Zhang Jue’s schedule was set.

On September 20, he would participate in the Chinese Challenge Cup in Chongqing, part of the Challenger Series. On October 1, Zhang Jue would head to Finland for the Cup of Misty.

Both events were B-level, open to anyone willing to pay the entry fee, with relatively low competition levels. Zhang Jue was sure to win, making these good warm-up events for the season.

On November 7, Zhang Jue would compete in the Grand Prix’s Chinese leg in Shanghai.

On November 28, he would compete in the Japanese leg in Osaka.

Barring any unexpected developments, he would compete in the Final in Barcelona on December 11.

The coaches finalized the plan but also checked with the athlete himself. If Zhang Jue felt the schedule wasn’t right or thought the B-level events were unnecessary, they were prepared to adjust it.

Zhang Jue didn’t care. Wherever the coaches told him to go, he’d go.

He simply said: “Okay, let’s go with that,” before turning his attention to Jin Zixuan.

“Zixuan, the timing of your jumps still doesn’t match the music’s beats. Should I slow down the tempo a bit?”

This year, Zhang Jue had bought two cars, and Jin Zixuan had helped him with the license plates, so Zhang Jue felt very grateful and had voluntarily offered to help Jin with editing his competition music for free.

As a result, whenever Jin Zixuan worked on his programs, he would often ask Zhang Jue to check his musical synchronization and point out any mistakes for improvement.

In short, everything was settled.

That evening, Qin Xuejun squeezed a pump of lotion into his palm and began massaging Zhang Jue’s foot. His gray eyes were fixed on the TV, which was playing “Parents’ Love.” Zhang Jue, holding a professional book, sat nearby, while Saori was comfortably perched on Zhang Jue’s muscular leg, cracking sunflower seeds.

After a while, Zhang Jue put down his book and began gently stroking Saori.

“Saori, my season is about to start.”

Qin Xuejun replied: “Be careful on the road. I’ll take care of Saori and look after everything I’ll water the fermentation bed regularly to keep the humidity up, so the chicken smell won’t bother the neighbors. The smart watering system you installed is very useful. I’ll control it through the app to ensure that everything at home grows well.”

Zhang Jue thought: You’ve said everything I was going to say!

Suddenly, the living room fell silent. After a pause, Qin Xuejun asked: “When are you leaving? Do you want me to drive you to the airport?”

Perhaps it was just an illusion, but despite the lack of resemblance between Qin Xuejun and Ilya, at that moment, Zhang Jue couldn’t help but feel that Qin’s expression was somewhat similar to Ilya’s.

They both seemed to understand him well, except Ilya’s understanding often ran counter to Zhang Jue’s thoughts. For example, when Zhang Jue had wanted a simple hug as a child, Ilya had lifted him high into the air. But Qin Xuejun truly got what Zhang Jue meant.

His face was clearly delicate, but there was something a bit goofy about it, as if the soul of a bear resided inside him. However, this gray-eyed bear seemed smarter than that blue-eyed polar bear.

Zhang Jue couldn’t help it and asked tentatively: “My second granduncle’s orchard had two beehives move in, so he had someone remove the hives and gave me two bottles of wild honey. I’m thinking of making honey cake—do you want some?”

Qin Xuejun’s eyes lit up: “Of course!”

For Dr. Qin, the biggest perk of being Zhang Jue’s roommate wasn’t the incredibly low rent, but Zhang Jue’s excellent cooking

Otherwise, why would he willingly massage Zhang Jue’s feet like this?

Zhang Jue thought, Definitely a bear.

Suddenly, Zhang Jue hissed: “Ouch, it feels a bit sore and tingly.”

Qin Xuejun pressed that spot again: “That means I hit the right acupoint. Alright, switch feet, give me your left one.”

Zhang Jue, grinning, lifted his foot: “Hey, are you free in November? I’ll give you a ticket to the Chinese leg of the Grand Prix, invite you to visit Shanghai.”

All expenses paid, including food, accommodation, travel, and even a treat for old-fashioned duck and noodle soup.

Qin Xuejun couldn’t help but laugh: “And what about the girl?”

Zhang Jue replied: “I’ll leave her to Dela. He’s coming to Beijing in November for further training and will even make a guest appearance at his company senior’s concert.”

Qin Xuejun raised an eyebrow: “Wasn’t he told to lose weight by his manager before? He wasn’t stage-ready with his weight.”

Zhang Jue nodded: “He’s slimmed down now.”

At 14, Xu Dela, unlike his older brother who maintained low body fat year-round, had a later growth spurt this lifetime. Earlier this year, he had suddenly shot up to 1.73 meters tall and slimmed down to 50 kilograms, transforming from a chubby boy to a handsome young man with a classical and refined appearance. He had quickly become the second most attractive member of Fengming Company after their star bassist.

After the schedule was finalized, Zhang Junbao began registering Zhang Jue for B-level competitions and submitting his application for the Grand Prix series.

The Grand Prix’s format was unique; athletes and events mutually selected each other. With Zhang Jue’s reputation and skill, any event he applied for would gladly accept him, as he was a major draw for ticket sales.

However, few expected that Zhang Jue’s popularity would extend beyond A-level competitions. Even in B-level events, his schedule, once posted by Shen Liu on Weibo, caused the tickets for the Chongqing Challenge to sell out in ten minutes. The organizers were shocked, and by that evening, the tickets for the Chinese leg of the Grand Prix could only be purchased through a lottery system on the Skating Union’s official website.

Zhang Jue first flew to Chongqing, checked into his hotel, and barely rested before being taken to the rink. Within two days, he completed his competition, skating two scores close to world records.

Because of the overwhelming fan enthusiasm, he got stuck at the entrance for 20 minutes.

When it came time to participate in the Cup of Misty in Finland, Zhang Jue had hoped to explore Santa Claus’s homeland. However, he ended up being chased by fervent male fans for two blocks, so aside from competition time, he had to stay in his hotel.

For the first time in two lifetimes, Zhang Jue felt overwhelmed by his own popularity.

In his previous life, he had experienced online hate and even being booed during performances by rival fans. He thought he’d seen it all. But he never expected that blowing up in popularity would bring a different set of problems.

“Seriously, I’m an athlete, but why is my popularity higher than when I was an idol?” he muttered to his uncle.

“I think I need a manager to handle my travel issues. If I keep getting mobbed like this, it’ll start affecting other athletes too, right?”

Zhang Junbao listened and nodded earnestly. He immediately went to find the head of the business office, Bai Suqing.

That afternoon, Bai Suqing brought a handsome young man with clean, well-defined features to meet Zhang Jue.

“This is my son, Bai Xiaozhen. He works as a manager at a company, though none of his artists are particularly famous. If Zhang Jue doesn’t mind, he can help manage your business and travel arrangements.”

“Oh, Zhang Jue, you probably know the company he works for—it’s Fengming, the same one your brother’s band is signed to.”

Zhang Jue looked at the young man’s face, trying hard to control his expression, but his heart raced.

Bai… Brother Bai!

The young man rubbed his hands together and smiled sheepishly as he walked up to Zhang Jue: “Wow, so you’re the author of Tonight’s Starry Sky, Dragon of the Waves, and Rising with the Wind! Thank you for writing Rising with the Wind! My brother-in-law’s band has become popular thanks to that song.”

He extended his hand: “Nice to meet you, Zhang Jue.”

 

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