Chapter 35 The coach and team doctor temporarily went out to hand over…
The coach and team doctor went out to negotiate temporarily. Ren Xiyao was left alone in the room. Panic spread through her, but she deliberately ignored it. She forced herself to think mechanically and calmly, reviewing the curves in the race on one hand, and thinking about the upcoming rehabilitation training on the other.
"Ren Xiyao." A familiar voice rang out at the door. She turned her head and saw Quan Zhilong standing there, his mask pulled down to his chin, his face terribly pale. Two security guards followed behind him, speaking to each other in Korean.
“I saw it,” his voice was hoarse, “that foul.”
Ren Xiyao suddenly felt a lump in her throat. Not from the pain, not from losing the medal, but from the helpless anger in Kwon Ji-yong's eyes. He could control the emotions of millions of viewers on stage, yet at this moment he didn't even dare to touch her.
She forced a smile: "You saw it during the Canadian leg, didn't you? It was fine."
Kwon Ji-yong's hand hovered in mid-air before gently landing on her hair: "Does it hurt?"
"I'm alright," Ren Xiyao lied. In reality, her knees felt like they were being pricked by countless needles, and even breathing aggravated her pain. Looking at Kwon Ji-yong's red-rimmed eyes, she suddenly realized he might be crying. The radiant G-Dragon on stage now stood before her bedside like a helpless child.
Just as he was about to say something, the door was suddenly pushed open. The Chinese team's equipment coach and another assistant coach walked in with a translator. They were visibly taken aback when they saw Kwon Ji-yong: "This is...?"
“My friend,” Ren Xiyao replied quickly, “a doctor at another hospital in South Korea.”
The coaches were skeptical, but there was something more important at the moment: "Xiyao, the appeal was successful. The South Korean team was disqualified, and we were awarded the silver medal."
Ren Xiyao nodded, feeling slightly comforted, but not as happy as she had imagined. She simply mechanically and calmly considered the current situation.
"I'll go discuss the follow-up matters with the coach," the equipment coach continued. "You should rest well and not think too much."
After the team leader left, Kwon Ji-yong sat back down on the edge of the bed. He gently took Ren Xiyao's hand, and this time he didn't hesitate: "It will get better."
"It's okay, I know." She reached out and touched his cheek, her thumb brushing against his reddened eyes. "Go back, it's not safe here. Your phone keeps ringing, they must be going crazy with worry over there."
But hidden beneath these words of dissuasion was her unspoken fear. At that moment, she dared not touch anything soft, for she feared her carefully constructed rationality would crumble.
Kwon Ji-yong's eyes were filled with struggle. Coming here was truly risky; there were many reporters outside. His company was furious that he was here; if he were caught, the media would explode. But at this moment, he really didn't want to leave. The moment Ren Xiyao was injured, he felt as if he had been pushed off a cliff. On the way here, the image of her lying there, unable to get up, kept replaying in his mind. That helplessness, that fear, was tearing him apart.
Ren Xiyao saw through the struggle in his eyes and said to him, "Go and deal with your company's affairs. There's nothing you can do by staying here now, and things won't get better immediately."
"YG's PR department must be going crazy right now. The longer you stay here, the greater the risk."
He suddenly grabbed Ren Xiyao's wrist, his eyes reddening: "Is that all you're worried about?"
Ren Xiyao looked at his taut jawline and suddenly sighed. She reached out and gently touched the back of his hand, which was clenched so tightly it had turned white: "Athletes who are okay have to learn to coexist with injuries. I'm slowly getting used to it too. Let's go back." She was saying this to Kwon Ji-yong, but also to herself.
He grabbed her fingers with his other hand, so hard that it almost hurt her, but he immediately let go after realizing it.
"Okay." She nodded before he could finish speaking, and even smiled: "Now, be careful when you leave, don't get photographed."
Kwon Ji-yong stood still.
Ren Xiyao picked up the water glass from the bedside table, took a sip, and said in a relaxed tone as if she were discussing the weather: "If you don't leave now, I'll press the call button and have the nurse kick you out."
He finally turned around, but stopped at the doorway.
"Ren Xiyao".
"Um?"
"...Don't be afraid."
She paused, then repeated, "Don't be afraid." He had sensed something unusual the first time in the locker room of the training base in the north of the city. This time, his "Don't be afraid" meant he saw through her deep-seated fear and forced rationality, and he chuckled, "I know."
After the door closed, Ren Xiyao loosened the sheet she had been clutching; her palms were sweaty.
After a while, the ward door was pushed open again, and the head coach came in with an ice pack, his face even whiter than the hospital walls: "I contacted experts in China, and they suggested that we do preliminary treatment here first, and then have a more detailed examination when we return to China."
Ren Xiyao took the ice pack and pressed it against her knee; the biting cold seeped through the bandage. Silence filled the room. After a long pause, the head coach finally spoke: "The referee determined it was a dangerous overtake, but..." She didn't finish, but Ren Xiyao understood. In short track speed skating, some subtle actions never disappear.
As night fell, Ren Xiyao was able to walk with difficulty using crutches. The nurse had just finished changing her dressing when there was a gentle knock on the ward door.
"Please come in." She assumed he was the team doctor.
"Why are you here? The team will kill you if they find out." Ren Xiyao sat up straight in surprise. Li Enjing was also selected for the South Korean national team this season. She specializes in long-distance running. When the accident happened on the field, she was the fourth batter, and she was terrified at the time. But Ren Xiyao didn't expect him to come running over at this moment.
Li Enjing put down her backpack and took out an exquisite wooden box from it: "This is a family heirloom ointment that helps with ligament injuries." Her voice was as soft as a feather.
Ren Xiyao hesitated before taking the box, smelling a strong herbal odor: "Thank you, but the team doctor probably won't allow me to use it..."
“Apply it before bed at night,” Lee Eun-jung said, seemingly ignoring her refusal. “I used this when I injured my knee a year ago.”
"The first year was two months before the World Youth Championships," Lee Eun-jung said calmly. "I was bumped by a teammate during the team's internal testing."
Ren Xiyao stared at the scar and sighed deeply: "So today, Park Hye-yeon..."
“South Korea’s short track speed skating team has no shortage of talent, and the younger athletes are emerging. There aren’t many spots left for veterans, since there are only a few available.” Lee Eun-jung smiled wryly. “Why do you think she’s taking this risk? Just to impress the coach? She doesn’t really want to retire yet. If she can make it to the Olympics on home soil, her retirement benefits will be different. Plus, the refereeing on home soil is inherently biased, so someone has to make those fouls.”
The neon lights outside the window cast striped shadows on the hospital bed through the blinds. In fact, the infighting within the South Korean team was known to various countries and players, as they rarely concealed it. On-court squabbles between two South Korean teams were quite common. But to see it so openly discussed, especially by teammates, was still somewhat shocking.
Ren Xiyao recalled the competition within the domestic team. Although there were minor frictions and teamwork issues, it was far from reaching the point of intentional harm. The undercurrents of competition for spots were never directed at the players themselves. Just as she was about to say something, another knock sounded on the door.
This time it was Rita. She was clearly taken aback when she saw Li Enjing: "You came here, won't the national team kick you out?" Then she said to Ren Xiyao: "You're all alone, there's no one to keep watch for you or anything. Is it convenient for you tonight? Where's Lin Shan?"
Ren Xiyao looked at Rita, who came in all high spirits: "Lin Shan went back to rest. She's been working hard for a long time. I just talked to her and told her not to worry. Anyway, we'll go back together in a couple of days. The team doctor is here tonight. He's gone to eat now. He's been busy with things all day."
Rita put down a paper bag containing various vitamin supplements: "I brought some that might be useful to help you recover faster."
The three girls looked at each other, then suddenly burst into laughter. In the two months since the start of the season, they hadn't talked much, given their busy schedules. But on this strange night, in this hospital ward filled with the smell of disinfectant, they temporarily forgot their respective national flags; they were simply three girls who all loved skating.
Rita dragged a chair over and sat down: "Our team reviewed the video, and even though he's an old guy, that move was still too dirty."
"...Does this happen in your team?" Ren Xiyao suddenly asked Rita.
Rita raised an eyebrow: "Canada? Not at all, we can fight each other fairly and squarely."
Lee Eun-jung smiled wryly: "Only the South Korean team is this crazy."
The conversation shifted from injuries to training methods, and then to the different policies of various national ice hockey federations. Rita shared the relaxed team atmosphere in Canada, while Lee Eun-jung described South Korea's brutal elimination system. The men's team, in particular, is involved in mandatory military service, making it much more difficult than the women's team. Ren Xiyao listened, sometimes surprised, sometimes moved, and her knee pain seemed to lessen somewhat.
“Actually, I envy you,” Li Enjing suddenly said to Ren Xiyao. “No matter what the club does, as long as you’ve been selected for the national team, at least the national team will be united.”
Ren Xiyao sighed. Of course, it's best to be united against a common enemy. Having a shared goal allows us to temporarily ignore the opinions of certain clubs.
Rita glanced at her watch: "I have to go, our flight is tomorrow morning." She hugged Ren Xiyao: "Keep in touch, ask me anytime if you need anything about the rehabilitation plan."
Lee Eun-jung also stood up, but hesitated before leaving: "I...we."
Ren Xiyao knew what she wanted to say, smiled, and interrupted her: "We're friends. I know."
Yes, we are friends, even with some less-than-honorable aspects. But genuine souls and pure passion will always guide similar people to meet.
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