On the figure skating rink, there has always been a tradition of several athletes falling together in the same competition, known as the so-called “cluster of mistakes.” This year, however, not only did it happen, but there were accidents, and the three people involved were from different countries and time zones. The coincidence was almost supernatural.

Ilya strained a ligament while practicing a 4Lz, which was understandable as it’s one of the most common injuries in figure skating. Stress fractures were also common, so if it hadn’t been Zhang Jue who got injured, people might have just sighed and said: “This athlete has it tough.”

Moreover, Ilya’s ligament injury was even more severe than Zhang Jue’s because he needed surgery, while Zhang Jue did not.

As for David, his injury was truly unlucky. It was said that he was in a heated moment with his new boyfriend in a car when a drunk driver backed into a parking spot and crashed into their car, sending it flying.

He had been following all the traffic rules, and was just about to enjoy a sweet night with his boyfriend, only to be suddenly hit by a car.

His luck was so bad that “unlucky” wasn’t enough to describe it.

If Zhang Jue had been the only unlucky one, he might have been depressed, considering it was his first time breaking a bone in two lifetimes. But after finding out that two other unlucky people had also gotten into accidents, his good mood returned.

He wasn’t the unluckiest, nor was he the most severely injured, so he quickly regained his balance. Ahem, this is probably just human nature.

His injury, though serious, wasn’t too bad—he just needed to go home and rest with a cast. His parents were taking good care of him. Whenever he wanted something, all he had to do was glance at it, and Xu Dela would immediately help him. Apart from the pain in his injured area, life was actually more comfortable than before.

Cha Hanbuhua replaced Zhang Jue in Nagano. Although Zhang Jue felt a little disappointed, he still sat in front of his computer right on time to watch the live stream when the competition began.

This year, the costume for Xiao Bainiu was blue and white, and paired with his dark skin, he stood out quite a bit.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have a technical advantage, so from the start, there was no hope of him competing for a podium finish. However, the kid’s fighting spirit seemed high.

A pleasant female voice came from the TV: “Now on the ice is our young talent, Cha Hanbuhua, a lovely young man from the Mongolian ethnic group…”

Zhang Jue curiously asked his father: “Dad, who is this commentator?”

His father patted his head: “That’s Zhao Ning, silly boy. She’s commented on many of your competitions, from the junior to the senior level, never missing one. She’s famous for appreciating you.”

Zhao Ning was a commentator with a lovely voice, excellent professional knowledge, and elegant, precise commentary. After Zhang Jue completed a competition, she was never stingy with her praise.

She had even once recited a line: “A beauty on ice, a nation-toppling figure,” when Zhang Jue performed Rain Falling in Your Black Eyes. As a result, she was affectionately nicknamed by Chinese skating fans as the “Head of the Fish Seedling Department on CCTV.”

Zhang Jue suddenly understood: “Oh, it’s her. Well, I’ve always been the one competing, and I never bothered to watch the replay videos. I thought that sitting at home watching competitions and listening to commentary was something I wouldn’t do until I retired.

At that, he paused for a moment, then changed the subject, saying he wanted to eat snacks while watching.

Xu Yan gave him a calm look and shoved an apple into his hand: “No other snacks for you, make do with fruit.”

Zhang Jue noticed something for the first time: with the growing popularity of figure skating, domestic live broadcasts now even featured a small box in the lower-right corner of the screen showing the coach’s face, likely so viewers could see the coach’s real-time reactions during the athlete’s performance.

When Cha Hanbuhua completed his 4T, although it was just one quadruple jump, Shen Liu leaned forward, intensely watching him before the jump. When the jump was successfully completed, Shen Liu leaped up, punched the air, and then clapped along with Zhang Junbao.

They looked so happy. Did the coaches also react like this when Zhang Jue completed a jump?

Zhang Jue didn’t know, because during competitions, his focus was always on himself and his program.

Cha Hanbuhua finished in fifth place, while Hayato Teraoka won the gold medal with a program called Jin Yi, achieving the highest score of his career in this Grand Prix final.

It was his first gold medal at a Grand Prix final. The silver medal went to Canada’s skating expert, Carlson, while the bronze went to France’s top skater, Alex.

In his post-match interview, Hayato said one thing to the camera: “I’ll wait for you all to come back.”

Originally, Zhang Jue thought he had a good attitude, but when he saw that, a restless feeling rose in his heart.

He immediately turned off the TV, grabbed his crutches, and returned to his room, falling face-up onto his bed.

Athletes are known to have big appetites, and Zhang Jue’s appetite hadn’t decreased. However, with the cast on, he couldn’t do any exercises. In just one week, his weight shot up by 5 pounds.

Yang Zhiyuan, who came to give him a check-up, tutted and said: “This won’t do. After your injury heals, just losing weight will be enough to wear you out.”

Zhang Jue looked helpless: “What can I do? I gain weight easily, and now I can’t even swim. Without aerobic exercise to burn fat, it’s impossible to control my weight.”

Auntie Ning, who came to visit, placed a recipe in front of Zhang’s mother: “Reduce his carb intake. Replace it with chicken breast and beef for protein, but in moderation. If he’s still hungry, give him plenty of low-calorie vegetables. The milk should be skimmed. These are his calcium and vitamin supplements.”

Zhang Jue’s comfortable days ended abruptly as his team doctor and nutritionist worked together to arrange everything for him.

He loudly protested: “You can’t do this, I haven’t eaten enough yet!”

But both the doctor and nutritionist replied in unison: “Figure skaters aren’t meant to eat enough!”

Zhang Jue pouted, his black eyes rolling, and his rebellious spirit immediately kicked in.

Even though he knew they were doing it for his own good, he still decided to express his dissatisfaction through action. Given that Zhang Jue was an extremely proactive person, he immediately called Qin Xuejun.

With a proud and solemn tone, he declared the decision he had made in just three seconds:

“I’m running away from home, Xuejun, help me.”

Qin Xuejun had been at home making chicken soup, and when he received the call, the chicken was still in the pot. Hong and San Hong were eating their feed, Saori was sleeping soundly in her nest, and he slowly typed out a question mark.

Zhang Xiaoyu, the ace of China’s national figure skating team, top male singles skater, and a future GOAT, had all kinds of documents ready from frequently traveling abroad for competitions and commercial shows. He was also an adult, so he could travel abroad on his own. On top of that, he had a younger brother who doted on him without limits, helping him pack his suitcase, buy tickets, and drive him to the airport.

For someone like him, running away from home was ridiculously easy. After finishing the chicken soup Qin Xuejun brought, gnawing down a chicken leg, Zhang Jue wiped his mouth and demanded his help to run away.

Dr. Qin booked wheelchair services for him at the airport, so from the moment Zhang Jue entered, an attendant pushed him all the way onto the plane. His suitcase had been checked in earlier, courtesy of Qin Xuejun. Zhang Jue had nothing to worry about.

Before boarding the plane, Qin Xuejun squatted down and reminded him: “Keep an eye on your documents and wallet while you’re out. Call me if anything happens. Come back when you’re done having fun.”

Zhang Jue listened to him for 10 minutes, then immediately grabbed Xuejun by the collar and pulled him toward himself.

“Take care of yourself and Saori, and wait for me to come home.”

Then he nodded to the flight crew and prepared to board the plane.

Qin Xuejun touched his ear, still feeling the warmth from Zhang Jue’s words lingering there. Before long, that spot turned bright red.

He sighed deeply, still unsure what kind of spell he was under—whatever Zhang Jue said, he just went along with it.

“If I spend the rest of my life with someone like that, my future will probably be filled with both happiness and excitement,” he thought, and his mood brightened again.

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t miss him. When he found out that Zhang Jue was leaving, Qin Xuejun had already prepared himself to think about him every day. But as long as Zhang Jue wanted to fly, there was nothing he could do but help. He had no other choice.

Dr. Qin put his hands in his trench coat pockets, looking at the blue sky with gentle eyes.

No matter where Zhang Jue wanted to fly, it didn’t really matter to him, because he knew that child would always land, and when the time came, he would be there to catch him.

Zhang Jue’s first stop was Nagano. He flew to Tokyo first, then took the Shinkansen, which took about two hours to reach Nagano Prefecture.

This was the host of the 1998 Winter Olympics, and when it comes to that year’s games, what people still talk about most was the legendary battle of the ice dancers. All six pairs in the top six had championship titles from top-tier competitions. But for Chinese figure skating, what stood out most was the women’s singles skater, Chen Zhu, who, after going through development, injuries, and coaching changes, finally won her second Olympic bronze medal in her career.

A bronze medal… If he had won a bronze in a competition, even though he wouldn’t openly show any negative feelings, he would definitely feel disappointed.

He only liked gold medals—nothing else would do. But when it came to whether he could win a gold medal at the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics in two years, or whether he could even compete in the Beijing-Zhangjiakou Winter Olympics later on, he wasn’t sure.

On the ice, anything was possible. Maybe fate would give him a surprise and let him enter that “zone” again during the competition. Or maybe, he would fall again.

After walking around Zenkoji Temple, Zhang Jue saw a newlywed couple wearing traditional samurai wedding attire, posing for photos. Someone was holding a red umbrella behind the bride.

He watched the happy couple from the crowd, thought for a moment, and then took a picture of the temple’s entrance, planning to show it to Xuejun when he got back.

Being on crutches, it wasn’t convenient for him to go too many places, so after visiting the temple, Zhang Jue found a nearby mall to sit in, holding a cup of barley tea.

Ice sports were quite popular in Japan, and the center of the mall’s first floor even had an ice rink big enough to host professional events. At that moment, a children’s competition was taking place.

One by one, the kids—who looked like elementary school students—were wearing bright costumes and stepping onto the ice. Most of them couldn’t even land a triple jump, and their skating was often clumsy. A few skaters managed to perform smoothly enough to do a double Lutz-double Toe combination jump. And even though many spectators didn’t understand figure skating, they still applauded to encourage the skaters when they completed their moves.

Zhang Jue clapped along, his eyes filled with envy.

He really wanted to get back on the ice. It had been two weeks since he last skated, and he felt like he was rusting.

If only he had a healthy body, like those kids—never having tasted the pain of injuries, and without the fear of future injuries that weighed on him…

Just then, someone called out in surprise: “Zhang Jue?”

Japanese skating fans and athletes liked to call Zhang Jue “Tama-chan,” but this person used his name with the correct Chinese pronunciation, which surprised him as he turned around.

“You are… Chiba Takashi?”

It was Chiba Takashi, the gold medalist in the men’s singles youth division at this year’s Grand Prix Final

Zhang Jue didn’t pay much attention to the youth division, but he remembered this kid’s name because Chiba had just broken Zhang Jue’s previous youth world record in the final with a free skate featuring two quad Salchows.

He curiously asked: “The competition in Nagano is already over. Why are you still here?”

Chiba Takashi sized up this older skater who so many young men in the singles division looked up to and realized that, in everyday life, aside from his impressive height, Zhang Jue didn’t seem much older than himself.

This guy actually had a baby face, just like his coach, and he could probably pass for a high school student. But then again, Zhang Jue was only 18 this year.

Chiba Takashi silently mocked this in his head and then sat down in the chair opposite Zhang Jue, calmly saying: “I’m originally from Nagano City. After finishing the competition, my coach allowed me to rest at home for a week before returning to training.”

He turned his head, his eyes soft as he looked at a girl on the ice.

“My sister is competing today, so I came along to watch.”

Zhang Jue made a sound of acknowledgment. “So that girl who skated the smoothest is your sister, huh? Her spins and skating are pretty good. The double Lutz-double Toe combination is still a bit under-rotated, but her edge work is on point. With proper training, she could have a bright future.”

Chiba Takashi looked surprised. “Were you really watching? I thought you wouldn’t care about a small competition like this.”

Before striking up a conversation with Zhang Jue, Chiba had quietly observed him for a while. He’d noticed that Zhang Jue seemed lost in thought, staring blankly at the ice, his mood seemingly low. Yet, he had actually been watching the competition?

Chiba’s assumption that Zhang Jue wouldn’t care about small competitions wasn’t unfounded. It was well-known that Zhang Jue had switched from skating to ballet for four years before his uncle convinced him to return to the ice as an athlete. Within a year of resuming training, he competed in his first national competition and won the junior world championship in his debut season.

Someone like him, who had never even skated in a club league, and whose mere application to a B-level competition would have organizers praying he would favor their event, wasn’t expected to pay attention to anything below the top tier.

Zhang Jue tapped the table in dissatisfaction. “What do you mean I wouldn’t care about a small competition? I may not have participated in these types of competitions, but the future of figure skating is hidden in them, isn’t it?”

He turned to look at the girl on the ice wearing a pink qipao-style costume, smiling with anticipation.

“I didn’t watch kids’ competitions much before, but they’ve surprised me with their talent.”

 

 

Author’s note: When most athletes have mental struggles, they resolve them through various internal conflicts, eventually finding their way out with the help of mentors or friends.

When Zhang Jue has mental struggles, he runs away from home. In his past life, whenever he missed his deceased parents and brother too much, he would walk to the cemetery outside of town, and in the end, his uncle would come and carry him back home.

 

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