For Zhang Jue, winning competitions was not an unusual thing, but for fans who only started following him after the Sochi Winter Olympics, every one of his performances was immensely precious.

At first, many fans didn’t understand “why he kept skating those same two programs,” but later, they were able to explain to others: “Athletes only change their competitive programs once per season.” Many ice-skating enthusiasts learned to identify six different types of jumps, memorized the names of various spins, and stayed up late to watch his competitions—all for Zhang Jue.

When Zhang Jue took first place in the short program at the Grand Prix Final, his fans immediately celebrated, posting excited updates on Weibo, liking posts from fellow fans, and sharing competition videos on several video platforms to spread the joy with other skating enthusiasts.

Some die-hard fans celebrated and then treated themselves to a cup of “Ladder Mountain milk” before catching up on sleep, while those with larger appetites added a snack of ” Sweet Zizi No. 1 Corn.”

This kind of massive fan following, where millions of people tracked an athlete’s competition updates, was once reserved for stars, and while it didn’t reach the level of national attention like Liu Feiren in hurdles, it was definitely top-tier for a winter sports event.

The influence and popularity of a top-tier athlete were fully displayed in Zhang Jue, to the point where even the morning news on CCTV-5 covered his first-place finish in the short program. H Province TV even replayed the men’s short program during prime time.

With only six competitors in the Grand Prix Final, airing it didn’t take much time, and the ratings were high—perfect. After the competition broadcast, they could also show the live interview with Zhang Jue.

The timing of the reporter’s visit was a bit unlucky, as Zhang Jue had just returned to his room after receiving his small medal, planning to wash up and go to sleep. But then his uncle knocked on the door, telling him to quickly get ready because a reporter from his hometown had come for an interview.

Zhang Jue quickly threw on a checkered coat and sat in a chair with wet hair still dripping water, but surprisingly, he didn’t appear disheveled.

It was probably his sunny smile that made him so likable, or perhaps it was his slightly proud expression when the reporter praised him. The atmosphere of the less-than-10-minute interview was very good. Zhang Jue briefly talked about his thoughts on the competition and then had some casual conversation with the reporter.

“My hairstyle? That was styled by Brother Shen with hair gel, and he also dyed my hair.”

“Yeah, I was really surprised by the enthusiasm from the skating fans. I was so flattered. Before the season started, I hadn’t skated much at all during the off-season, and I wondered if I’d been away from the scene for too long.”

“Exactly. I was suddenly woken up in the middle of the night and told someone was going to set fire to the hotel. I didn’t get much sleep, and the next day during the program run-through, my head was pounding.”

Zhang Jue’s Mandarin was actually very standard, but the reporter interviewing him was a true Northeasterner, and Zhang Jue’s northeastern accent slipped out during the interview. Both the reporter and Zhang Jue found each other’s way of speaking very much to their liking, and the viewers found it endearing as well.

At the end of the interview, the reporter extended his hand, saying: “Good luck in your competition.”

Zhang Jue shook hands with him, saying: “Thank you, I’ll do my best.”

The next day, the weather in Barcelona was poor, with the sky overcast. Shen Liu checked the weather forecast and said there would be light rain late at night, so they casually brought one umbrella when they left. But by the time the bus arrived at the arena, it was already pouring rain.

Zhang Junbao gave Shen Liu a sidelong glance: “Light rain at night?”

Shen Liu sighed: “Looks like foreign weather forecasts aren’t accurate either.”

It certainly wasn’t his fault for misinterpreting the Spanish weather report; Shen Liu had confidence in his language skills.

One umbrella could only cover two people, so Team Doctor Yang suggested taking turns under the umbrella. Zhang Junbao and Shen Liu said they didn’t mind getting wet, as long as the athlete and Coach Lu didn’t get rained on.

If the athlete got sick, it would be a big problem. Coach Lu, being 73 years old, also shouldn’t be caught in the rain in December. Shen Liu even wrapped his scarf around Coach Lu’s neck, leaving the old man no chance to refuse. When it came to his health, the entire team was in agreement.

In the end, it was the Japanese team passing by who helped them out. Hayato Teraoka, Takeshi Chiba, Keiko, and Shoji all had umbrellas and were more than happy to share one with the Chinese Team.

Zhang Jue and Keiko shared an umbrella, and he quietly asked: “How’s your knee?”

Keiko blinked: “You noticed, huh? It’s fine, just a Grade 1 strain, not as serious as yours was.”

Zhang Jue said: “Mine was also a Grade 1 strain back then, but competing while injured made it worse. Take care of yourself.”

A Grade 1 strain could heal with rest, but anything worse might require surgery.

Keiko sighed: “I’d love to rest, but the Grand Prix Final is an A-level event, and since I’m the only skater from my country to make the final, there’s no way I can withdraw.”

It wasn’t just China that had performance quotas. The Japan Skating Federation also had high expectations for their top male and female skaters. For instance, after Sochi ended last year, Zhang Jue skipped commercial performances to focus on his college entrance exams, but Keiko was ordered by the Japan Skating Federation to participate in 35 commercial performances. On top of that, she signed with a management company to gain more advertising opportunities, but after everyone took their cut, Keiko herself didn’t earn as much as people might think.

Keiko’s father had passed away early, and her mother had to support both her and Masako’s skating careers, leaving the family with some debt. Masako also had medical bills, so Keiko was under a lot of pressure.

Zhang Jue nodded: “There’s a commercial performance in Beijing around June next year. Can you come?”

Keiko joked: “How much is the appearance fee? I won’t go if it’s too little.”

In truth, even if Zhang Jue didn’t pay her, as long as he covered her travel and accommodation, Keiko would be happy to help warm up the crowd at his event.

Zhang Jue calmly replied: “One million yen (about 60,000 yuan), plus travel and accommodation.”

If ticket sales went well, Zhang Jue might even give the athletes some local specialties as gifts, but since that was uncertain, he didn’t mention it yet.

The initial investment for the commercial show, including the appearance fees for top-tier athletes, came to around 5 million yuan. Zhang Jue personally covered half of that amount.

Future profits would depend on ticket sales and sponsorships. Fortunately, Zhang Jue’s sponsors were generous. One brand gave 3 million yuan in sponsorship, and another, not to be outdone, gave 4 million. On top of that, H Province TV purchased the broadcast rights for 1 million yuan, so even before tickets went on sale, the event had already broken even.

Sponsors clearly wanted a return on their investment, so Zhang Jue placed great importance on the quality of the event. He only invited athletes who excelled at show skating, avoiding those who reused the same program for several seasons.

Keiko’s usual appearance fee for commercial shows was 900,000 yen, which was already a top-tier rate. Even Vasili, a Grand Slam champion, only charged 1.2 million yen for shows in Japan, plus travel and accommodation.

Zhang Jue offering Keiko an extra 100,000 yen made him shine with a “golden aura” in her eyes.

She eagerly agreed: “Don’t worry, as long as I can still skate, I’ll definitely be there.”

As for Hayato Teraoka, Ilya, and Vasili, they had already accepted Zhang Jue’s invitation the day before, and even Takeshi Chiba had been roped in by Zhang Jue.

When they entered the arena, 80% of the fan posters in the audience were for Zhang Jue. It seemed like everyone wanted him to win. Even though he only had one gold and one silver from the qualifiers, unlike Teraoka and Ilya, who both had two golds, most people still believed Zhang Jue had the best chance of winning.

The teachers didn’t have high expectations for Cha Hanbuhua, they just hoped he could make it onto the podium. But the young boy still felt a lot of pressure, while for Zhang Jue, not winning the championship wasn’t an option.

Before Hanbuhua went on stage, he looked at his senior, who was calmly reading a textbook, and suddenly realized he had a long way to go.

Zhang Jue looked up and said: “Why are you looking at me? You’re about to go on stage. Do your best.”

Hanbuhua scratched his head and replied: “Oh.”

Meanwhile, the top skaters from Japan and Russia were encouraging their younger teammates.

Teraoka Hayato said: “Takeshi, do you see those two Russian bears over there? Beat them!”

Ilya said: “Ivan, Vagel, do you see that short Japanese guy? You can lose to anyone, but not him!”

Both younger skaters nodded seriously and decided to perform at their highest level.

Young athletes often lack stability, just like when Zhang Jue was in the junior category and often made mistakes. And since performing at the highest level is the riskiest, it wasn’t surprising that the young skaters from both Japan and Russia made errors.

Cha Hanbuhua also aimed for his highest level, attempting two 3A jumps.

His free skate was set to the instrumental piece “Wind, Please Send a Message,” with its gentle, serene tone. Hanbuhua graceful performance, stable jumps, and deep, precise skating earned him the gold medal.

Zhang Junbao was overjoyed and immediately lifted his student high in the air, while Chiba Takeshi, who had taken silver, buried his face in his coach’s chest, wiping away tears and further solidifying his resolve.

“If I can’t even beat the juniors, my biggest rival is definitely still that black bull!”

After receiving his gold medal, Hanbuhua was still in a bit of a daze.

The young boy always thought he didn’t have much talent. He was slower than others at mastering difficult moves, and apart from his stability, he didn’t have many advantages. He saw himself as someone who could simply reach the podium in A-level competitions for his age group.

But somehow, he had won the gold? How did that even happen?

Hearing his self-doubt, Zhang Jue walked over and patted his head: “Who are you comparing your progress with?”

Hanbuhua silently looked at his senior. Zhang Jue suddenly understood.

“You’re comparing yourself to me? There’s no need for that. Very few people in this world can match my talent.”

Zhang Jue was a prodigy among prodigies. It was perfectly normal for Hanbuhua not to measure up to him, but that didn’t mean Hanbuhua wasn’t a talented skater in his own right.

Before young skaters earn a spot in A-level competitions, they first have to defeat all their domestic rivals. The fact that Hanbuhua made it to the finals showed he had more talent than his peers.

“Little Bull, you need to understand something. When Coach Sun first scouted talent, he didn’t just want our coaching team and me—he also wanted you, Min Shan, and Jiang Yihong. This proves that the potential in you was enough to catch the eye of a national team head coach.”

Moreover, many senior male skaters still saw the 3A jump as their most difficult challenge, while Hanbuhua had landed and stabilized his 3A at just 14 years old. How could he say he had no talent? He was clearly gifted!

As for Zhang Jue, his talent was at the top level, unrivaled.

Hanbuhua accepted his senior’s words and felt more confident as a result. However, he couldn’t help but think that, even though his senior was speaking the truth, there was still a touch of arrogance. Yet, Hanbuhua also found Zhang Jue’s confidence to be somewhat endearing, like a little crocodile puffing out its chest proudly.

Some people don’t physically stand with their hands on their hips, but you just know they are in their hearts.

What they didn’t know was that the H Province TV station had broadcast all the Grand Prix events, including the junior competitions. From the moment the junior men’s singles event started, the station’s ratings began to climb.

One of the producers told his boss: “Chief, the ratings just broke 1.5.”

The chief watched for a moment and chuckled: “There are a lot of viewers from Inner Mongolia. Many of Cha Hanbuhua’s fellow Mongolians are watching, and some viewers are probably tuning in hoping to catch Zhang Jue in Hanbuhua event.”

Even people who didn’t usually follow figure skating would become interested when they heard about a local kid excelling in a sport typically dominated by Europeans and Americans. Sometimes, they’d get so interested that they became lifelong fans. This was how Zhang Jue and Cha Hanbuhua gained many dedicated fans from Mongolia and the northeastern provinces.

Another producer chimed in: “Some people are tuning in just to see their coach. I remember Coach Zhang has quite a lot of fans too.”

Later that evening, when the senior men’s singles event started, the TV station staff were stunned as the ratings soared past 2, higher than many popular TV dramas.

One of the producers murmured: “Looks like when Zhang Jue’s commercial performance airs, the ad rates for that time slot will go up significantly.”

 

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