Qin Xuejun’s new day started with the sound of the doorbell ringing at 5 AM and the startled, loud clucking of the big red and second red chickens.

He hurriedly slipped on his slippers and ran to the door. When he opened it, he saw Zhang Jue sitting on a suitcase, looking haggard, pressing his finger on the doorbell, and tremblingly saying: “I’m hungry.”

Seeing his fragile waist and listless spirit, Qin Xuejun almost thought this figure of the figure skating champion had just come out of the harem of King Chu.

“Didn’t you bring a key?”

“I forgot it before I left, Xue quick, give me something to eat. I had a really bad flight sickness this time, barely ate anything on the plane. My uncle also got sick and was helped back to rest by Brother Shen.”

Xue: “Isn’t your uncle immune to motion sickness?”

Zhang Jue sighed long and hard: “No choice, I only found out when we landed that the pilot was from a battle-hardened nation.”

Xuejun immediately understood. Russian pilots do have a rather wild flying style, where there’s no weather or maneuver they won’t dare to attempt. Some passengers, who are on the verge of getting motion sickness, will inevitably feel sick once on their planes.

He let Old Master Yu into the house, boiled water to prepare noodles, while Old Master Yu collapsed on the sofa, continuously asking for things.

“Cut more green onions for me, and sprinkle some white pepper on the noodles after they’re done. I don’t want Italian or buckwheat noodles, just the fine hanging noodles from Chen Keming. And make me a fried egg with eggs laid by Big Red or Second Red, not any other chicken eggs.”

Qin Xuejun paused his movements, turned to look at Zhang Jue’s miserable state, and compared it to his radiant and charismatic figure on the ice, thinking that his fangirls really should see what he looks like daily.

This would surely shatter the idol aura instantly, leaving not a single trace.

Zhang Jue slumped for a while, and Qin Xuejun placed a bowl of noodles on the tea table in front of him.

“Old Master, the noodles are ready.”

Zhang Jue looked up: “I thought you would say something like: ‘Here, food.’”

He was quite aware of how annoying his demands were, and only those close to him could tolerate it.

Qin Xuejun: “…Jue isn’t that mean, hurry up and eat.”

Since the tea table was low, Zhang Jue just sat on the floor to eat the noodles. Qin Xuejun placed a cushion with a cartoon hamster pattern underneath him. Shaori hadn’t woken up yet, and the little hamster hadn’t jumped onto its wheel, leisurely sipping water instead.

The two chatted casually, discussing things like Big Red and Second Red having laid three eggs during Zhang Jue’s absence, their conditions not being great, while Shaori could eat and drink but wasn’t in good spirits. Qin Xuejun had taken her for a physical exam, and all her indicators were normal, likely just winter fatigue. The vegetables on the balcony were growing well, and some that couldn’t be eaten in time were made into pickled vegetables by Qin Xuejun.

Zhang Jue was astonished: “You can make pickles?!”

Qin Xuejun smiled confidently.

“Russian-style pickles, my grandma taught me. They’re essential for winter, and you can have some too.”

After Zhang Jue finished the noodles and soup, he wiped his mouth and started talking about his recent competitions. Everyone knew that he had broken records and won gold medals, as he’d even made it onto hot searches five times during the competition. Shen Liu had even called it his “deification battle.” But some small details of the competition only Zhang Jue knew.

This was exclusive information from the figure skating champion.

The results from China at the finals were excellent. Zhang Jue, Huang Ying/Guan Lin, and Cha Hanbuhua all won gold medals in their respective events. Fatty/Luo Mi took silver in the youth pairs, and Min Shan won silver in the youth women’s singles. Everyone brought home medals, making the figure skating scene in China look prosperous.

However, their bench was too thin, and they lacked enough reserves of talent. If anyone got injured, there would be no one to replace them on the competition stage.

For instance, in the youth women’s singles, only Min Shan could perform, and in the adult category, the top female skater, Xu Chuo, had a short stamina. In ice dance, no one could compete, and in pairs, only the Huang-Guan combination was viable. Only after fatty and Luo Mi graduated could they catch their breath.

“When I did the 4S jump, I didn’t keep my body tight enough. After all, I didn’t raise my hands to further shrink the axis, and since I’m tall, my jump axis is quite thick. It was really lucky that I landed so steadily…”

Zhang Jue complained about nearly falling, and then shared the embarrassing moment when he passed the gold medal to Hasegawa Haruto. Even Zhang Junbao didn’t know about this.

“And many people seem to have really high expectations of me. That’s a lot of pressure because I’m not sure if I can create something beyond ‘The Tree of Life.'”

Zhang Jue sighed deeply on the tea table.

“The Tree of Life is, of course, a great piece. I’m satisfied with it, but now I don’t even know what I’ll create for next season.”

“I feel like my inspiration is dried up. And the song that Mrs. Saranna gave me is also really good, but I just can’t seem to skate to it. Could it be that my talent is used up? No, I’m only 17! If this continues, I’ll definitely disappoint my fans!”

Qin Xuejun thought about the barrage of comments like “desire hard but soft” and “desire to struggle but weak” from contemporary masters of neologisms when Zhang Jue skated to “Moulin Rouge” and thought that group wouldn’t be disappointed in him.

With Zhang Jue’s looks, as soon as he stepped onto the ice, a crowd of “face fans” would love him like crazy. He just wasn’t willing to rely solely on his face for fame.

Zhang Jue felt his technical progression hadn’t ended, but his performance had hit a bottleneck. That feeling of being able to come up with a performance that roughly matched the music in less than a day, and after refining it, easily stunning the crowd, was gradually disappearing.

Meanwhile, his competitors were not facing such a problem. They were also developing new jumps and maturing their performance styles, while Zhang Jue, whose performances were already mature, was unsure of where to go next.

Could it be because I’m getting old?

Zhang Jue doubted himself. Even though he looked 17, he had been almost 25 before his rebirth… plus the five years after rebirth, making him 30 years old now!

Oh my god, he was already this old, could this be… a mid-life crisis?

The 21-year-old Qin Xuejun scratched his head: “But didn’t you promise to write a new song for your brother’s band not long ago? I thought your creativity was overflowing and had nowhere to go.”

In Qin Xuejun’s eyes, Zhang Jue was a model of talent, not only amazing at skating but also a genius at songwriting. He even used “Ladon” as a name in his compositions.

In Greek mythology, Ladon was a hundred-headed dragon who guarded the golden apple tree, one of the children of Echidna and the giant Typhon.

Anyone with some knowledge of Greek mythology would know that “Ladon” was actually Zhang Jue.

Zhang Jue gave him a long, melancholic look.

“This is another problem I’m worried about. I can’t write it, but I already promised Dela. If he knows I can’t write it, I won’t have any dignity left as an older brother. Xuejun, what should I do?”

Xuejun had no idea what to do. He was a medical PhD student, not an art PhD student, so his expertise was irrelevant, and he couldn’t help.

“You should rest. Maybe after taking a break, new inspiration will come to you. You see, India’s math genius Ramanujan, he also encountered unsolvable problems, but after a nap, new ideas came to him.”

Sighing, he sat down on the floor, lifted Zhang Jue’s leg, and began massaging his soleus muscle.

“Did it still hurt when you jumped?”

Zhang Jue replied groggily: “It was fine when I jumped, but when I landed, it occasionally hurt a little, and also during the transition steps… This year, the transition steps were arranged at level 4, and doing high-difficulty edge changes and high-speed gliding also caused some pain.”

However, because he had taken good care of himself in the past, and with two hours spent daily on physiotherapy, the pain was bearable.

As for his knees and ankles, they were in great condition. Especially with a good diet, regular exercise, and long hours spent in the ice rink out of sunlight, Zhang Jue felt that, compared to his 17-year-old self from his past life, his skin was even better now. It was fair, translucent, and there wasn’t even a trace of acne—his skin was like white porcelain, with pores invisible even under glasses.

Moreover, the ideal resting heart rate for adults was 55-70 beats per minute. His resting heart rate was around 50. In general, excluding the energy expenditure during training and competitions, Zhang Jue’s health index was at the highest level among humans.

Zhang Jue gradually fell asleep, leaning against the sofa with his head tilted back. His jet-black hair hung down on the cushion, gradually reaching his shoulders. His breathing was even. Qin Xuejun pushed him gently, but he showed no sign of waking up.

Given his sleep quality and the added fatigue from the long trip, waking him up might make him grumpy. But he couldn’t let him sleep like this; his posture wasn’t right, and if he woke up later, his shoulders and neck would hurt.

Saori was munching on a breadworm, and under her nibbling, the worm gradually lost its vitality. Her black eyes reflected the two bipedal creatures in the living room.

The one with the particularly large build hesitated for a moment before picking up the smaller bipedal creature and carrying it into the bedroom. Then he came back out and put the dishes in the dishwasher.

The prelude to Zhuque Band’s “Dragon of Breaking Waves” began to play, and Qin Xuejun answered a phone call.

“Little Rong was hit on the head with a hot water bottle by Grandpa Lu? Uh… After all, chemotherapy is painful… Hmm, I’ll go pick him up now.”

Qin Xuejun packed his things and left. It was still 6:30 in the morning. He hadn’t had breakfast, and it was foreseeable that once he got to the hospital, he wouldn’t have time to eat.

At noon, Zhang Jue got up, walked into the kitchen to find something to eat. His movements were light, and he didn’t wake the hamster girl who was sleeping soundly. The refrigerator had his special compartments with marinated chicken breast and fish, along with fresh vegetables from the balcony and twelve large red eggs that Qin Xuejun had gathered. There was also a bag of whole wheat bread, so he could eat to his heart’s content.

Zhang Jue still didn’t have any inspiration for new songs. The idea that a good sleep would bring a burst of inspiration clearly didn’t happen easily.

Maybe he could just reuse the songs he wrote in his past life to get by… After all, they were his own, so there wouldn’t be any copyright issues. But those were songs he wrote during the second year after his uncle passed away, for the first birthday without his uncle, in memory of him. Although after singing it, a group of people misunderstood it as a love song, Zhang Jue always felt it was because he used an overly vintage, soothing melody.

Slow songs were mostly lyrical love songs, but Dela band was a rock band. Although they also performed pop songs, their new album couldn’t be without rock tracks. That song would be more suitable for Zhuque Band, a group Dela greatly respected.

He chewed the bread slowly, humming a tune occasionally.

Then a phone call came in.

“Rulalu la…”

Zhang Jue answered the phone: “Hello?”

“Huh? Xuejun fainted? Did he get beaten again… Oh, it was a fainting episode from low blood sugar? That’s fine, I understand. I’ll go pick him up now.”

In a hurry, Zhang Jue quickly filled Saori water, put on a mask and a red knitted hat, and threw on a green coat before rushing out.

 

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