Chapter 140, November 2024...
November 2024. Time flies. When I first arrived, I could still feel the breath of early spring, but now the chill of early winter is already upon me.
It's that time of year again—the snowy season. Ren Xiyao stared at the computer screen, her expression blank, but the way she unconsciously stroked her ring betrayed her current anxiety.
She took a deep breath and closed her laptop. The first snow was falling outside the window; winter came to New York earlier than to Harbin.
My phone vibrated. It was a message from Kwon Ji-yong: "The meeting has been delayed. I'll pick you up at the library in half an hour."
She replied with an "Mm," then reopened her computer and pulled up the match video.
2024 was also a year of new beginnings for Kwon Ji-yong, after a seven-year hiatus from the stage. His return and fresh start were thankfully well-received. It can be seen as a double success in both love and career.
When Kwon Ji-yong entered, Ren Xiyao was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, with three devices spread out in front of her: a tablet playing match replays, a laptop running data analysis software, and a phone displaying team group chat history. Having participated in three matches since the start of the new season, Kwon Ji-yong was quite familiar with this scene.
“I bought fried noodles.” He placed the paper bag on the coffee table. “Double the beef, no cilantro.”
Ren Xiyao didn't even look up: "Just put it there."
Kwon Ji-yong squatted down and took the pen from her hand: "Eat first."
"Let me finish looking at this set." She reached out to grab it, but he held her wrist.
"Ren Xiyao," he said, his voice turning serious, "you have a bad stomach."
She finally looked up, her dark circles under her eyes making it look like she'd been punched: "Just five minutes."
Kwon Ji-yong didn't let go: "You also said five minutes yesterday, but you ended up watching until 2 a.m.
After a few seconds of awkward silence, Ren Xiyao deflated and grabbed the takeout box. Quan Zhilong sat down next to her and helped her organize the pile of documents.
"Xu Qinghe has transitioned to coaching?" Kwon Ji-yong broke his chopsticks apart.
“Yes, lead the youth team.” Ren Xiyao stirred the rice noodles: “The current main team has an average age of 21, and they have too little experience in major competitions.”
"You had already swept three gold medals at the World Championships when you were 21."
“That’s different.” She poked at a piece of beef: “Back then, we had veteran teammates leading the competition.”
Kwon Ji-yong watched her pound the beef into small pieces and suddenly asked, "Has your retirement application been approved?"
"Not yet, the Sports Bureau is going through the procedures." She put down her chopsticks: "Actually, it doesn't matter whether it's approved or not."
“It’s alright, the captain’s appointment wasn’t approved until 2020. I should…”
Neither of them spoke, and a hush fell over the dinner table. Each was preoccupied with their own thoughts. The team's increasingly poor performance and Ren Xiyao's growing anxiety since the start of the winter sports season were both evident to Kwon Ji-yong, and his worries seemed to be becoming increasingly real…
Kwon Ji-yong woke up in the middle of the night and found no one beside him.
Ren Xiyao stood on the balcony wrapped in a blanket, holding a cup of hot milk in her hand. The doctor had asked her to take calcium supplements before bed, otherwise her lumbar spine would easily cramp.
"Can't sleep?" He opened the glass door.
"Hmm." She didn't turn around: "Did I wake you up?"
"The blankets are cold when you're not here." Kwon Ji-yong stood next to her and noticed she was looking at her phone. It was a training video sent by a young player from the same club as her, currently on the national team, with the caption: "Sis, how do I fix this cornering?"
Ren Xiyao sighed and pressed the voice button: "Lower the center of gravity a bit, and you still need to control the core more precisely..."
After she finished sending the message, Kwon Ji-yong took the milk cup and took a sip: "You weren't this patient when you were teaching me to ice skate."
“You’re just doing it for fun.” She snatched back the cup and argued, “They’re professional players.”
The snow was falling heavily, and the lights on the Empire State Building in the distance were blindingly bright.
The rehabilitation center was packed with people on the weekend.
When Ren Xiyao came out after her lumbar traction, she saw Quan Zhilong playing on his phone on a bench in the corridor, with two hot drinks next to him.
"What brings you here?" She raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Didn't you have an appointment with the producer today?"
"It's been rescheduled." He handed her a glass of hot lemonade. "I just ran into someone I know downstairs."
Following his gaze, Ren Xiyao saw Canadian short track speed skating star Susan standing next to the water dispenser, her right leg in a brace.
"A torn meniscus," Kwon Ji-yong said in a low voice. "I fell during the World Cup last month."
Susan saw her too, smiled at her, and raised her water bottle in greeting.
Ren Xiyao nodded, then suddenly asked, "What if I were to make a comeback now...?"
"Ren Xiyao." Quan Zhilong's heart tightened, and he interrupted her without waiting for her to finish: "The weather changed last week, and you were afraid of straining your back if you sneezed."
She shut up.
When Lin Shan made a video call on Christmas Eve, Ren Xiyao also followed local customs and made a small Christmas tree.
"Holy crap, you're really living in New York? I'm back at the club coaching youth academy now." On the other end of the camera, Lin Shan, munching on an apple, hesitated for a long time before speaking: "This year... the team's results haven't been particularly good."
Ren Xiyao adjusted the camera to avoid showing her wrist, which was wrapped in kinesiology tape: "Newcomers need time."
"Come on, you didn't need time when you swept the World Championships at 21." Lin Shan suddenly lowered her voice as if remembering something: "Has your retirement application still not been approved?"
Kwon Ji-yong, holding a pumpkin pie, said in the photo: "Departments around the world are not very efficient."
"No way! You're living a peaceful life now! Leaving me all alone in the country!" Lin Shan shrieked, "That's too much!!"
Ren Xiyao hung up, stopping the piercing scream. She continued with her work, while Quan Zhilong continued setting the table for dinner. These warm, homey days of running their little family were his greatest reward this year.
Of course, there are also the forced regular schedules and the continued exercise habits.
Quan Zhilong caught up with Ren Xiyao, panting, and grabbed her arm: "Slow down... Do you think this is speed skating practice?"
Ren Xiyao slowed her pace and waited for him to catch his breath: "Your stamina is too poor."
“I’m a musician, not an athlete.” He leaned on his knees, panting. “Besides, how can you appreciate the scenery when you’re running so fast?”
Who goes for a morning run to enjoy the scenery?
"Me?" Kwon Ji-yong pointed to the lake: "There's a mandarin duck over there."
Ren Xiyao squinted and looked over: "Those are mallards, aren't they?"
"Anyway, you're very cute." He suddenly asked a seemingly unrelated question: "What was the last thing you thought of before you fainted after the Pingcheng competition?"
Ren Xiyao was taken aback for a moment, then frowned slightly: "Why are you asking this out of the blue? I didn't mean anything by it. I just feel a little relieved."
Kwon Ji-yong laughed, which puzzled Ren Xiyao, but then he suddenly hugged her.
"what?"
"It's nothing." He buried his face in the crook of her neck: "I just suddenly felt so glad that you were able to retire safely."
The joggers passed by them, and no one noticed the Asian couple embracing.
On the day of the Montreal race, the weather changed. Ren Xiyao slept until noon, which was unusual for her.
When she woke up, Kwon Ji-yong had already gone to the studio. There was a note on the dining table that read: "There's porridge in the microwave. I've sent you the link to the live stream of the match."
She heated up the porridge, turned on her computer, and just in time for the women's 1500-meter final.
Watching the young player on the team fall off the track.
Ren Xiyao suddenly stood up, her lumbar spine cracking with a "crack". She froze on the spot, and only slowly sat down after the excruciating pain subsided, noticing that her palms were covered in sweat.
My phone lit up, and a message from Kwon Ji-yong popped up: "Stop watching the live stream, come to the studio."
Upon seeing this message, Ren Xiyao replied with a question mark.
The reply came almost instantly: "The collaboration is very interesting; it's related to the theme of ice and snow."
Ren Xiyao stared at the message for a while, then looked at the game, and finally shut down the computer and grabbed her coat.
The snow outside has stopped, and the sunlight shines on the snow, making it dazzlingly bright.
Time flew by, and it was February 2025. Kwon Ji-yong's comeback album had been released and was doing very well. This brought with it an increasingly busy schedule. Ren Xiyao's year-long studies were also drawing to a close.
"G-Dragon, come on stage in five minutes." A staff member knocked on the door to remind him.
It was a mystery, but he understood immediately.
When he first received the message, he almost couldn't control himself and wanted to fly over immediately to stop her. But he also understood. This message wasn't a discussion, but a notification; she had made her decision. And he couldn't change it.
He was so sleepy he could barely keep his eyes open, but he remembered the force with which her fingers dug into his arm, as if she wanted to crush something.
An adaptive ice rink near New York University. Ren Xiyao slammed her skate cover heavily onto a bench.
Ren Xiyao turned off her phone.
The administrator peeked in: "Professor Ren? The art history students are waiting for you."
“Let them read the documents, I’ll be there later.” She dialed an overseas number: “I accept the General Administration’s conditions.”
There was a three-second silence on the other end of the phone: "Think it through. There's only one year left until the Winter Olympics, and you're thirty-one this year."
“So I only need one year.” Her tone was firm and devoid of emotion: “The club will talk to them; I want a say.”
Kwon Ji-yong's new song debuted on the global charts, but he was hiding in the bathroom watching a live sports news broadcast: "Legendary athlete Ren Xiyao's name has returned to the doping test pool, possibly preparing for the 2026 Winter Olympics."
Kwon Ji-yong turned off the screen, when his manager suddenly burst in: "Damn it! The reporters are all looking for you!"
“I haven’t been there all these years, have I? Just say I had an upset stomach.” He shoved his phone at the other person: “Book the earliest flight to Beijing tomorrow.”
Kwon Ji-yong stood in the arrival hall of Beijing airport, clutching a red amulet in his hand.
Ren Xiyao's phone lit up with a message: "I've arrived in Beijing."
She was practicing on the ice and didn't see it.
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