Chapter 119 The result of the third stop was unknown...

The result of the third leg was as expected.

The moment the ice skate got stuck on the ice, Ren Xiyao heard a crisp sound of bones grinding together. Before she could even close her eyes, she saw the lights from the ceiling explode in front of her, turning into a blurry white blur.

Ice shards crept into her collar, chilling her to the bone, but she didn't feel cold. The gasps around her, the referee's whistle, and her teammates' shouts all seemed to be muffled by a layer of water, barely audible. She lay on the ice, a piercing pain shooting through her right knee, her left shoulder and back feeling as if they had been ripped apart, but strangely, the tension that had been building up inside her for half a year suddenly relaxed.

relief.

The thought popped up without warning, carrying a cruel sense of relief. She even wanted to laugh; finally, she wouldn't have to count the days in Pingcheng anymore, wouldn't have to struggle with the second team's chaotic training schedule anymore, wouldn't have to practice until dawn in front of an empty ice rink anymore. Falling was fine; falling gave her a reason to stop.

She wasn't unfamiliar with stretchers. In the past, she'd at least hear concerned voices, but this time she only heard Coach Li from the second team saying to someone, "I told you she wasn't in good shape, but she insisted on pushing herself..."

The voice was light and airy, like a feather landing on her heart, but it didn't stir up any ripples.

When the diagnosis came out, Ren Xiyao was lying in a hospital bed with an IV drip in the back of her hand. The doctor held the X-ray, his brows furrowed: "Your right knee meniscus tear has worsened, your anterior cruciate ligament is damaged, and there is severe effusion in your knee. This is due to the old injury. The new injury is even more troublesome: a fracture of the humerus in your left shoulder, and fractures of the third and fourth lumbar vertebrae... You're risking your life with this body."

She stared at the ceiling, saying nothing. A report on her physical deterioration was attached to the diagnosis, stating "long-term sleep deprivation, malnutrition, severe muscle loss, elevated cortisol levels..." It was all evidence of the strain of the past six months. The doctor sighed, turned to the nurse, and instructed, "Give her some strong sedatives and tranquilizers, let her get a good night's sleep. If she continues like this, her body will break down."

The medication took effect quickly, and drowsiness washed over her like a tide. Before she closed her eyes, her last thought was: Heijo... I'll think about it when I wake up.

Perhaps the tension in her heart had finally eased, because Ren Xiyao slept soundly for what seemed like forever. When she woke up again, the curtains in the ward were drawn, and the air smelled of disinfectant, a peculiar odor of the hospital. Coach Zhang was sitting by the bed, his hair disheveled and his eyes dark and swollen. When he saw her open her eyes, he stood up abruptly, his voice hoarse: "Awake? You've been asleep for three days. Are you hungry? The doctor said you'd wake up soon, so he had the cafeteria make you some soup."

As her memories slowly returned, she nodded, wanting to ask where she was, but Coach Zhang spoke first, his tone laced with anger: "Those bastards wanted to just dump you at the local hospital! I argued with them for two days, and the club also fought hard to get you transferred back."

His hand trembled as he spoke, his knuckles turning white from the force. Ren Xiyao knew that the "argument" he spoke of was far more than a simple dispute. The club had limited influence; Coach Zhang had bowed his head countless times and endured immense humiliation to snatch her back from Coach Li.

"Where is Coach Li?" she asked softly.

"Hmph," Coach Zhang sneered, "He came to see me once. He stood at the door of the ward, looking so sarcastic. If the director hadn't stopped him, I would have punched him on the spot."

Ren Xiyao fell silent. She could imagine Coach Li's expression, a mixture of smug satisfaction ("I knew this would happen") and relief ("One less problem"). To them, her fall was merely confirmation of their prediction that she was "out of form," a chapter they could easily turn the page on.

What she didn't know was that Coach Li was muttering, "Young people just can't keep their tempers up, they get upset over the slightest setback..." before Coach Zhang grabbed him by the collar.

"Say that again?" Coach Zhang's fists clenched so tightly they cracked, his knuckles turning white. "I entrusted my child to you, and you're going to treat her like this? You knew she was injured, yet you forced her to play in the third game, and now she's lying here. You're telling me she couldn't hold her nerve?"

Those around them quickly pulled him away, but Coach Li shook off his hand, straightened his rumpled collar, and smiled sarcastically: "Coach Zhang, don't get agitated. In competitive sports, injuries are inevitable. Besides, this is just to give her some 'training,' after all..."

"Get out." Coach Zhang's voice was as cold as ice: "If I see you again, don't blame me for being impolite."

Coach Li walked away dejectedly, his figure quickly disappearing around the corner of the corridor. Coach Zhang watched his retreating figure, his chest heaving violently, but in the end, he only slammed his fist hard against the wall, wincing in pain. It was ironic and absurd; he had faced this situation countless times. But every time, he had to endure these hypocritical charlatans spouting nonsensical nonsense. He couldn't lay a hand on them; if he did, the children's last remaining chance would truly be gone.

Ren Xiyao watched the medicine drip from the IV tube and suddenly felt it was absurd. Her struggle, which she had fought with half her life on the line, was not even a ripple in the power struggles of those people.

The digital clock hanging in the hospital ward showed that it was already mid-November. There were less than three months until the Pingcheng Winter Olympics.

She slowly raised her right hand and touched her knee, which was still wrapped in thick gauze and ached slightly. But strangely, the feeling of "relief" was gone, replaced by something heavier, like the most solid ice layer of the Songhua River, hard enough to crush bones, yet also possessing a tenacious spirit that refused to melt.

Coach Zhang thought she was upset and wanted to say something to comfort her, but she spoke softly, her voice still a little hoarse but very clear: "Coach Zhang, once I can get out of bed, please find me a rehabilitation therapist."

Coach Zhang was stunned.

“Pingcheng…” She looked at the sky outside the window, which was gray and hazy, but it seemed as if there was light shining in the distance: “I still want to try.”

Even now, even if the whole world has forgotten her, even if those dismissive words still weigh on her like a mountain, she still wants to try. She's unwilling to let her career be wasted like this, year after year. This is her career; if she gives up on herself, then truly no one will care.

The days of rehabilitation training were long and tedious. Every day, under the guidance of the therapist, Ren Xiyao had to undergo various targeted strength recovery, joint mobility restoration, and balance training. Those movements that were once easy for her were now extremely difficult, each one causing excruciating pain in her injured areas. Sweat soaked her rehabilitation clothes, blurring her vision, but she always gritted her teeth and persevered without uttering a sound.

The day she met the captain, she was slowly training. Just then, she glanced up and saw that familiar face reflected in the glass of the rehabilitation room. The captain was there for a check-up. The injury she suffered three years ago before the Winter Olympics in Solomon Island was too severe; the doctor said it was a miracle she could walk again. Now, she also needed regular check-ups.

It was on the day she met her that the anger and frustration that had been suppressed in her heart for so long finally found an outlet. She couldn't tell her family, afraid of upsetting them. She dared not tell her friends, afraid of affecting their training. She dared not tell Coach Zhang either, afraid of seeing their disappointment and helpless expressions. Only this captain, who had left the short track speed skating team but still held a very important place in her heart, this senior who had led her into the world of short track speed skating—the captain—could let her be. They shared similar, yet helpless experiences, and only in front of her could she briefly indulge in her whims.

She cried all afternoon that day. All the grievances, hatred, struggles, and breakdowns were poured out, word by word, in that hospital room. The captain had experienced everything she had gone through, even more and more, and it had been much harder for him. So she finally found a place where she could temporarily put her weakness. She no longer had to pretend to be calm and collected. She no longer had to pretend that she was still strong and could handle it. From that day on, the captain would come to see her from time to time and accompany her during her rehabilitation training.

The captain helped her stand up with difficulty on the balance beam: "I heard they came to inquire about your recovery again?"

Ren Xiyao's forehead was covered in cold sweat, and she gave a short "hmm".

How to say it?

Ren Xiyao slowly stopped moving and pouted: "They said that Kim Sook-yeon from South Korea broke the 1500m record. South Korea has a new training method, and they are much faster on curves."

"The implication in her words is that everything I'm doing is in vain." Ren Xiyao sneered, suddenly losing her balance. The captain quickly supported her, but heard her hoarse laughter: "Look, I can't even stand up straight, and they're still afraid of me."

The recovery mirror reflected her pale face and trembling legs, but the fire in her eyes remained unextinguished. Looking at her, the captain suddenly spoke: "Three years ago in the ward, you asked me if I had any resentment. And now? What do you think?"

Ren Xiyao laughed self-deprecatingly. After a long while, she stopped and said, "People do grow. Back then, I thought these things were obvious, so why couldn't we get a fair result? But now, all I want is to go back to the ice rink."

The captain looked at the young girl before her, her eyes filled with admiration and a hint of barely perceptible heartache. Xu Qinghe had once said she was like him, but she hadn't really felt it. She thought the girl was reserved, which was probably similar to Xu Qinghe. From the moment she first joined the team, this girl was enveloped in an aura of unapproachability. She was mostly silent, completely different from her own loud, outspoken, and impulsive personality. But in the end, it turned out that whether it was her straightforward, headstrong choice to confront the world head-on, or her quiet accumulation of potential for an explosion, they ultimately arrived at the same destination. Their final destination was on the ice rink.

The maple leaves outside the window are still burning brightly in the autumn wind, just like the indelible love in their hearts.

When she first stepped onto the ice skates again and tried to glide across the ice, excruciating pain shot through her right knee, left shoulder, and lower back, causing her vision to blur and almost making her faint. She gripped the ice rink railing tightly, gritted her teeth, and struggled forward.

"Xiyao! Slow down! Don't rush!" The team doctor and rehabilitation therapist standing on the sidelines were worried that she would fall again and cause further injury.

"Bang!"

With a dull thud, she fell heavily onto the hard, cold ice.

A sharp pain struck, but strangely, at the moment of falling, a relieved smile appeared on her face.

It hurt terribly, excruciatingly. But she could still skate. That was enough.

The captain was watching her rehabilitation training from the sidelines when he saw her like this and immediately rushed in to help her up: "Are you crazy?! Are you trying to kill yourself?!"

Ren Xiyao lay on the cold ice, and just a few simple movements had already soaked her whole body in cold sweat.

98 days.

There are less than 100 days left until the opening of the Heisei Winter Olympics.

She knew that the ice in Pingcheng would be even colder and more brutal than here. But she also knew that she would fight tooth and nail to stand on that ice.

Late at night, Ren Xiyao took out the strong painkillers prescribed by the doctor from her bedside table and swallowed a few pills expressionlessly. Outside the window, the first snow of the year began to fall.

She suddenly remembered that last winter, during the first snowfall in Seoul, Kwon Ji-yong called her and, amidst the swirling snowflakes, smiled and told her that the wishes she made during the first snowfall would come true.

She gazed at the swirling snowflakes outside the window and murmured silently to herself:

"Give me another hundred days... no, 98 days will be enough..."

After a short break of less than twenty days, Kwon Ji-yong immediately threw himself into BIGGBANG's farewell tour.

Backstage, when he opened his eyes and looked at the person in the mirror, he realized that he finally looked a little more "human".

The assistant pushed open the dressing room door and reminded him, "Brother, you'll be on stage in five minutes."

He stood up, and just before leaving the dressing room, he suddenly stopped and turned to ask his assistant, "What's the date today?"

"November 25th, brother."

Kwon Ji-yong nodded slightly and said nothing more.

The countdown to the Heijo Winter Olympics is 76 days.