Chapter 81 Ren Xiyao stayed at the school for a while...

Ren Xiyao stayed at school for a day and bought a ticket back to Hainan the next day. It was her holiday, and also the Lunar New Year for her whole family; her mother had taken her annual leave and arrived in Hainan a little earlier. It's said that Hainan is the "second home" for Northeasterners. Her family is no exception; all four elders own property in Hainan. While they have other plans for retirement, vacationing there is their obsession. Her parents have a good relationship, and both sets of grandparents are retired government officials, so they get along well. Their family is a typical Northeastern family, conforming to stereotypes. The family structure is also relatively simple. On her maternal grandparents' side, there's only her mother and aunt; on her paternal grandparents' side, besides her father, there's her uncle. Her uncle got married a few years ago. They have a six-year-old son, much younger than Ren Xiyao.

Actually, she goes home almost every off-season. It's just that once she's back, she doesn't talk much about her career. At most, she'll say, "You've worked hard, get some rest." The older folks just keep cooking her all sorts of delicious food, feeling that she's living a life of hardship. Ren Xiyao understands their thoughts. The older folks have lived through turbulent times; what haven't they seen in their lives? Of course, they hope Ren Xiyao will bring glory to the country and become a source of national pride, but this doesn't conflict with their concern for her.

Ren Xiyao dragged her suitcase out of the terminal, a wave of heat mixed with the salty sea breeze hitting her face. She squinted and saw the familiar black SUV in the parking lot. A tall man in a floral shirt was standing next to the car, standing on tiptoe and looking towards the exit.

"dad."

Mr. Ren turned around abruptly, his face instantly breaking into a smile. He rushed over in three steps to take the luggage, exclaiming, "Oh, my daughter!" He looked Ren Xiyao up and down, "You've lost weight."

"I haven't lost weight." Ren Xiyao let him pinch her arm: "The team just measured my body fat, and it's normal."

"That's definitely muscle!" Mr. Ren chuckled as he opened the trunk. "Your mom has an unexpected meeting at work and will be a little late. Grandpa, Grandma, and Grandpa on both sides are all waiting at home, and your grandma insists on cooking herself..."

The car window rolled down, and cool air wafted out, mingling with the melody of "Moscow Nights." Ren Xiyao climbed into the back seat and noticed a bulging file folder on the seat.

“Your maternal grandfather gave it to me,” Mr. Ren said, starting the car. “He said he found some rare materials that would be useful for your graduation thesis.”

Ren Xiyao opened the file bag, inside were several yellowed copies of "A Brief History of Ancient Chinese Sports," with her grandfather's neat penmanship on the title page: "Reference by Yaoyao, March 2016." A note was also tucked between the pages: "Page 78 contains records of ice skating, which may be relevant to your field of study."

She gently stroked the pages, suddenly recalling the winter of her freshman year when her grandfather braved the heavy snow to bring her an outline of aesthetics. Back then, the old man had coldly remarked, "Academic pursuits are better than sports," but now he proactively helped her find materials. It was a significant improvement.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, a loud argument could be heard coming from inside the room:

“I told you we should add fermented black beans!” That was Grandpa’s Northeastern accent.

"Seafood is only truly fresh when steamed!" Grandma's Beijing dialect was impeccable.

Ren Xiyao pushed open the door and saw four elderly people gathered in the open kitchen. Her grandmother, wearing an apron, was steaming fish, while her maternal grandfather stood by, teacup in hand, offering "guidance." Her paternal and maternal grandmothers were bickering over the seasonings. The table was already laden with dishes: boiled shrimp, Wenchang chicken, garlic water spinach... all her favorites. This was the scene she saw every time she returned from vacation. It was many times more lavish than the New Year's Eve dinner. Dishes from both the north and south were included, some with auspicious meanings, some nourishing, and some of her favorites... everything that could be made was prepared. Every meal during her stay was this grand affair.

"Yaoyao's back?" Grandma was the first to spot her, wiping her flour-covered hands on her apron. "Let Grandma see her!"

The four elderly people immediately surrounded her. Grandma pinched her cheek: "Your little face is all tanned." Grandpa stared at her knees: "Has the old injury flared up again?" Grandpa silently slipped a glass of chilled coconut juice into her hand.

Ren Xiyao was surrounded by people, her nose filled with the aroma of food and the faint scent of medicine from the old man. This warmth, which enveloped her completely, was even more dizzying than the sunshine here.

"Eat first!" Grandma waved her hand. "The fish will be ready soon."

The atmosphere at the dinner table was pleasant and harmonious. But suddenly, Grandpa spoke up: "So, that 'all-around champion' is equivalent to having the highest overall score?" Grandpa placed a piece of fish belly in Ren Xiyao's bowl. This was the first time they had proactively asked about Ren Xiyao's grades.

"Hmm." Ren Xiyao lowered her head to pick out fish bones: "The one with the highest combined World Championship points."

Grandpa pushed up his reading glasses: "I saw a CCTV report saying that only four women in the history of the Chinese women's team have won this title?"

“Three,” Ren Xiyao corrected, “I’m the fourth.”

The dining table fell silent for a second.

"Bang!" Grandpa suddenly slammed his hand on the table: "I knew my granddaughter was amazing! The Ren family genes speak for themselves!"

"Come on," Grandma said elegantly, peeling a shrimp. "Yaoyao's stamina clearly comes from the Zhang family. Back in my day, I ran a marathon..."

"You were being chased!" Grandma exposed his weakness.

Everyone burst into laughter. Ren Xiyao was somewhat surprised to see her grandparents bickering. She suddenly remembered how happy her family would be after every competition when she was little. These kinds of arguments often occurred around various competition venues when she was very young. Back then, they hadn't retired yet and couldn't go to watch her compete abroad, but for any domestic competition, the four grandparents would have four pieces of equipment: cameras, DV cameras, SLRs—whatever had the highest resolution, whatever was advanced. Her grandfather's study had more camera lenses than books. They never missed a figure skating performance, a folk dance performance, a cello performance, or even her kindergarten's performance. No matter what place she got, they always said she was the best.

I just don't know when it started, probably when she chose the path of a professional athlete. Every time she called home after a victory, it was "I heard you, take care of yourself." And when she lost, it was "You should have retired earlier." Now, however, the four elderly people are surrounding her, asking about the details of the competition, and even arguing endlessly about "which move was the coolest."

"Oh, by the way," Grandma ladled her a bowl of soup, "I heard you got accepted into a graduate program. After you finish the Pingcheng competition, you should consider..."

“The child just got back,” the grandfather suddenly interrupted, “Let’s eat first.”

"Ahem," Grandpa suddenly spoke up, "Yaoyao, what was the topic you mentioned for your thesis last time?"

"On the Presentation of Ice and Snow Sports in Chinese Painting".

"What a coincidence!" Grandpa's eyes lit up: "The Palace Museum just exhibited a painting called 'Ice Skating,' and I found a high-resolution scan of it..."

The topic was thus easily changed. Ren Xiyao secretly breathed a sigh of relief, only to find her grandmother looking at her thoughtfully.

After lunch, Ren Xiyao helped clear the dishes when her grandmother came over with a fruit platter: "Want to go to the balcony for a chat?"

A sea breeze rustled through the palm trees, and the sound of waves crashed in the distance. Grandma handed her a slice of chilled mango: "Still trying to pick a fight with us?"

"No."

"The thing your grandfather got angry about last year..."

"I know I've made you worry."

Grandma sighed. In the sunlight, Ren Xiyao realized that aging could happen in an instant. The Grandma she remembered—after leaving the army, always strong and healthy, her back always straight like a pine tree—had, she wondered, become slightly hunched. "The day you fell off the ice rink and were carried away on a stretcher," she said, "on the way to Beijing, your grandfather cried the whole way in the car. Your maternal grandfather's hands trembled so badly that he poured scalding hot tea directly onto his treasured book. Your maternal grandmother almost choked."

Ren Xiyao was stunned. She had never known these things. She had thought that she had worried the old man, but she never expected that the old man, who had been so strong all his life, would lose his composure because of her.

“But actually, over the years your parents, your aunt, and your uncle have done a lot of persuasion work with us.” Grandma suddenly laughed: “The way you cried after crossing the finish line…” Her voice choked up: “My granddaughter really loves it.”

A silence lingered for a while.

"Oh, right," Grandma suddenly changed the subject, "Your grandpa and grandma are planning to go to Xinjiang in June, and they insist on taking the train. People can't resist getting old; my old arms and legs just can't keep up. You should try to persuade them..."

"grandmother."

"Um?"

Ren Xiyao looked up, sunlight casting dappled golden shadows on her eyelashes: "My World Championship prize money has arrived."

"so?"

"I'll buy you plane tickets and book hotels!" She smiled slightly. "It's not a small amount, but as long as Grandpa doesn't take a fancy to any rare antiques, it'll be more than enough."

Grandma's eyes widened, and suddenly they reddened: "Ren Xiyao! You..."

Ren Xiyao hugged her grandmother tightly and snuggled into the old woman's arms. It was the familiar smell from her childhood that felt like home.

The sea breeze suddenly picked up, scattering the old man's unfinished words. In the distance, on the beach, several children were flying kites, their colorful paper kites soaring high into the azure sky.

After dinner, the whole family huddled on the sofa to watch the race video that Ren Xiyao had brought. When they got to the last corner where she overtook someone, Grandpa was so excited he almost lost his dentures: "Beautiful! That lane change!"

Grandpa, wearing his reading glasses, studied the technical movements: "Is the bending angle bigger than last year's?"

"Because I changed my way of pushing off the ice." Ren Xiyao subconsciously rubbed her right knee: "Taking corners at high speeds will also reduce the pressure on my knees."

Suddenly, all four elderly people looked at her knees.

"It's nothing," she quickly put her hand down, "it's all better now."

Grandma suddenly got up and went to the bedroom. When she came back, she was carrying an iron box: "The plaster recipe you used when you were a child. I got it from an old comrade-in-arms."

Grandpa magically produced a bottle of medicinal wine: "It's made with wild ginseng from Changbai Mountain!"

Grandma didn't say anything, but silently picked up an apple and started peeling it.

Ren Xiyao, embracing the overflowing "love," suddenly recalled Quan Zhilong's frequent comments that she was "clumsy in her love." Indeed, it was clumsy, but its depth was reassuring. Growing up in such a family atmosphere, she learned to do more and say less. Because love isn't just spoken, it's hidden in these small details. That's her confidence, the anchor she'll always have no matter how far she goes or what choices she makes.

Outside the window, the last rays of the setting sun sank below the horizon. Ren Xiyao took the apple her grandmother had peeled, and suddenly tasted saltiness—it was from tears that had fallen unnoticed…