Chapter 7: Ren Xiyao's fingertips were still injured even now...
Ren Xiyao's fingertips still retained the tactile sensation of the gold foil on her bouquet from the awards ceremony. As the hot water flowed over her collarbone, her mind was filled with analysis of tactical maneuvers and route choices, constantly reviewing the match. A persistent buzzing sound from the wardrobe interrupted her train of thought; water droplets splashed onto her phone screen, blurring the urgent announcement from the national team.
"The captain of the Chinese women's short track speed skating team suffered a fractured transverse process of the lumbar vertebra and a herniated disc during a high-speed collision on a curve during acclimatization training in Suocheng. She has been confirmed to withdraw from this Winter Olympics." A thunderclap went off in her mind. It was like a sudden bolt of lightning shattering all her thoughts. She felt an unprecedented chill, as if she were in a dizzying world, and she herself was frozen in place, unable to move.
The phone screen flickered in the dim, gray-blue light of the early morning. Downstairs, children were practicing their turns and steps at the ice rink. But the coach's whistle seemed to dance on her sensitive nerves.
The heating pipes in the training base emitted a muffled rumble. When Ren Xiyao came to her senses, she suddenly realized that her right hand was gripping her left shoulder tightly. She felt the old wound there throbbing, resonating with the distant capital. The dressing mirror reflected her stiff back. All the news she had suddenly received filled her with inexplicable fear. She trembled uncontrollably.
The door was flung open, and Lin Shan, who had said she was going to the cafeteria, rushed in with her phone in hand. The shock in her eyes hadn't faded, and tears were already streaming down her face uncontrollably. For the young athletes, this was the captain who had made history for Chinese short track speed skating. She was their pillar of strength, their absolute leader. Like Lin Shan, she had also risen step by step from the basic training team in the hometown of short track speed skating to the national team. This feeling was passionate and sincere, a simple admiration. It was simple, just a dedication to skating itself.
"A transverse process fracture of the lumbar vertebra is caused by the upper body twisting violently due to inertia at the moment of a fall, resulting in shear force on the lumbar vertebrae and causing a fracture. The transverse process of the lumbar vertebra is a bony protrusion on both sides of the lumbar vertebrae. Fractures are mostly caused by direct impact or violent muscle contraction. Injuries such as lumbar transverse process fractures combined with herniated discs require absolute bed rest for 2-4 weeks and wearing a lumbar brace for at least 3 months." This is not as simple as missing a Winter Olympics. It means the end of a professional career, the possibility of never wearing ice skates again, and even the potential impact on normal walking for the rest of one's life.
Why suffer such a severe blow just 20 days before the Winter Olympics? Our captain is in top form. For us, having our captain in the sprints practically guarantees a gold medal, and the women's 3000m relay, with such a strong leader, is an absolute favorite for gold. Even South Korea, after observing the situation, advised us to abandon the sprints and focus on the 1500m and the all-out relay. Why now of all times?
Lin Shan rushed over and hugged Ren Xiyao. Ren Xiyao buried her head in Lin Shan's shoulder and clung to her tightly. They both felt a chill run through their bodies and trembled violently. They were terrified. But she couldn't quite put her finger on what she was afraid of.
When the fog of Paris rises from the Seine, the January wind is like a sharp pair of scissors, cutting the velvet curtains in the shop windows into tassels.
On a winter afternoon, the streetlights cast a dim, yellow glow early, and the wind swirled tattered newspaper pages across the somewhat deserted sidewalk, startling a flock of gray pigeons seeking shelter under the eaves. Their wings flapped in the air, amplifying the sense of emptiness.
The mirror reflected his swift action of switching accounts to check the short track speed skating forum. His anxiety surged, and the moment he saw the message, Ren Xiyao's words echoed in his ears. She said her phone wallpaper was of the Winter Olympics gold medal from Suocheng; even if she couldn't go, she knew short track speed skating wouldn't disappoint its fans. She was happy as long as they won. She said the captain was her spiritual idol. She said her initial firm decision to switch sports instead of going back to school was because she saw the captain on the ice. She said… She said so much, always speaking eloquently, with respect, reliance, and an excitement that Kwon Ji-yong could feel even through the screen. He dared not think. How was Ren Xiyao doing now?
Meanwhile, silence had permeated the room all morning. No one spoke; it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Ren Xiyao's thumb rubbed the mouse wheel, leaving fingerprints. All morning, she forced herself to calm down, scrolling through web pages repeatedly, wanting more information, wanting to know more about the injury. But all the results pointed to the worst-case scenario.
"Radiating pain or numbness in the lower extremities."
"Severe lower back pain, unable to stand upright, even affecting breathing"
"Core muscle atrophy requires retraining to improve balance during the recovery period."
"Accompanied by local bruising, swelling, and significant tenderness."
Any one of these factors could potentially end an athlete's career. And now, all of them are involved.
Lin Shan nudged Ren Xiyao and said, "There's a press conference this afternoon. They'll...they'll talk about the team leader's situation." Ren Xiyao gave a brief "Mmm" and didn't say anything more. Both of them sat there, seemingly lost in thought. Lin Shan spoke up, "Is it the team leader? She doesn't like..."
"Stop talking! This is not something you should be saying!" Ren Xiyao quickly interrupted her.
Lin Shan continued, talking to herself, "The timing is too coincidental. Too coincidental. Why did they insist on letting her go on the ice when they knew there was a problem with the ice surface? Why couldn't they have taken a little time to fix it? What are we to them?"
“Every child in my hometown has heard of her. Every child knows her. No one who practices short track speed skating doesn't want to be like her. She represents an era. I especially want to compete internationally alongside her. I dream of becoming the person after her, competing alongside her like Sister Xu. I grew up watching her.”
Ren Xiyao listened to Lin Shan rambling on in her ear, not a single word registering in her mind. Her sensitive and suspicious nature had, at that moment, transformed into a tangible sword, piercing her chest. The anger within her was like an uncontrollable wild beast, about to break free of its chains. She interrupted Lin Shan, realizing she herself had gone through the same thoughts countless times, even imagining worse scenarios. But she, too, was caught in the turbulent currents, powerless to control her own destiny.
In a Paris hotel, Kwon Ji-yong's finger hovered over a lighter, Marlboro smoke swirling before his eyes. A tablet computer looped news reports from South Korea about short track speed skating. Top athletes, the favorites to win gold. For South Korea, their biggest rival, this injury before the Solo Winter Olympics was a stroke of good fortune. Their chances of winning gold had increased again.
Some media outlets were barely suppressing their schadenfreude in their press releases. Kwon Ji-yong instinctively loathed such reporting; injuries were never something to be celebrated. Top athletes deserved even more respect. Right now, all he could think about was Ren Xiyao's unconscious rubbing of her left shoulder. He suddenly remembered her saying, "Every scratch on the ice skate is an athlete's medal," and now those words tasted bitter like painkillers on his tongue.
The schedule his agent sent lit up his phone screen; the invitation to the haute couture show's after-party overlapped with his greeting to Ren Xiyao in the same time zone. Ren Xiyao hadn't replied yet. He thought for a long time, deleting and rewriting his message repeatedly, wanting to ask about the situation but afraid of using the wrong words. In the end, he only sent one sentence: "How was training today?" He regretted it as soon as he sent it. It was too stiff, like a polite colleague. But if he asked her about the captain, he was afraid of overstepping his bounds. As he got up, he knocked over the sparkling water on the piano bench, the bubbles leaving dark marks on the carpet. He didn't care about it, and just reached for the box of sleeping pills on the bedside table.
At the afternoon press conference, Ren Xiyao was huddled in her dorm with Lin Shan, holding her phone and waiting for the news release. Ren Xiyao saw Quan Zhilong's message, but she didn't reply immediately; she didn't want to reveal her fear. As a complete outsider, Ren Xiyao was afraid she wouldn't be able to control herself and blurt out all her thoughts. Even if these were just guesses and suspicions without evidence, she dared not reply. She could sense that Quan Zhilong's message meant no harm; it was simply out of concern for her. But for now, she needed some time to calm herself down.
Half an hour later, the press release came out. The captain of the Chinese women's short track speed skating team suffered a transverse process fracture of the lumbar vertebra and a herniated disc during training, which can be described as an extremely serious injury.
According to the diagnosis of sports medicine experts at top domestic hospitals, "fractures caused by high-energy impacts require open reduction and internal fixation surgery. Postoperatively, at least 6-8 weeks of bone healing is required, and the irreversibility of cartilage damage directly threatens the athlete's competitive performance." It can even be said that a long and extremely arduous rehabilitation training is required after surgery to avoid sequelae and to allow the athlete to walk like a normal person.
Furthermore, according to the joint diagnosis of professional injury assessment institutions and multiple doctors, the injury is considered to be season-ending, and occurring during the Winter Olympics preparation period is tantamount to directly declaring the loss of Olympic qualification. The entire report seems to be trying to avoid the cause of the accident and only stating the result, as if the person responsible for the dereliction of duty does not exist, making it seem like a training accident.
At the end of the news article, they included an interview with the captain. "Even when I'm not there, the boys' and girls' unwavering belief in winning and bringing honor to the country will not change. They've achieved quite good results even when I'm not around. Our training has been sufficient. As long as their belief and will remain strong, and they believe in themselves, I believe they will perform well again this time."
Yes, in the end, she was always the captain of the Chinese short track speed skating team. She was always the absolute standard-bearer. Just her presence gave everyone who came near her boundless strength. Ren Xiyao said, "I'll go see the captain tomorrow. She just finished a competition and needs time to adjust. You should focus on preparing for the World Junior Championships with the team. Doing well in the competition is also the captain's wish." Lin Shan nodded silently beside her, swiping her phone back and forth, repeatedly looking at this reply.
Today will eventually pass, and tomorrow will always come. Some things will never have a conclusion. But what can be said is that it is through the dedication and support of generations of people who truly love ice and snow that the project has a future. Such passionate and sincere dedication should never be betrayed.
A note from the author:
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