Chapter 113 The Shadow of the Investigation in the Capital...
The shadow of the investigation in the capital city clung to Ren Xiyao like a leech, consuming her day by day. Her body issued warnings even before her will.
She knew she was about to break. The interrogation felt like a dull knife cutting into her flesh, and rumors spread throughout the training base, saying she was "uncooperative," "arrogant," and "bullying others"... Even her name was completely removed from the list of predicted Olympic athletes. The panic and anxiety she had desperately suppressed were seeping out from the very marrow of her bones, making her will swell and soften.
The turning point came on a sweltering afternoon. Coach Wang, who had been in charge of her overseas training that year—the nearly fifty-year-old coach who always wore faded training clothes—suddenly submitted his resignation. In the report, he took full responsibility for the "violation of regulations regarding leaving the country" and "violations of regulations during overseas training"; "management negligence," "misunderstanding of regulations," and "failure to report in a timely manner"—every word was a self-inflicted accusation, the ink at the end of each sentence spreading like wet tear stains.
"If my mistake jeopardizes the athletes' future, I will be willing to die a thousand deaths to atone for it." That last sentence silenced the entire Winter Sports Management Center.
Almost simultaneously, Ren Xiyao's family finally submitted her bank statements and asset certificates to the disciplinary inspection department. The clear income and expenditure records, like a sharp blade, pierced the accusation of "unexplained sources of income." Dissenting voices began to emerge within the investigation team.
The tug-of-war finally showed signs of loosening. The atmosphere of scrutiny at the training base had eased somewhat; only Ren Xiyao's phone was still missing. Standing by the window watching her teammates train, listening to the crisp sound of their skates cutting through the ice, she suddenly felt incredibly tired. It turns out that sometimes, just surviving is harder than finishing a tough competition.
As Lin Shan squatted beside the fire hydrant and dialed an international number, his fingers turned white from the force. On the other end of the line, Li Enjing's Korean was sleepy, but she instantly woke up when she heard the name "Ren Xiyao".
“Lan Hai has no intention of stopping,” Lin Shan shrank into the shadows, avoiding the passing coaches. “They separated me and Xi Yao into different rooms. She’s sharing a room with Wang Lu now. The team leader is one of Lan Hai’s people. There are eyes everywhere.”
"Is she alright?" Lee Eun-jung's voice was strained.
"Can it get better?" Lin Shan smiled bitterly. "I was woken up by nightmares several times last night. Coach Wang's letter... wasn't it also a form of torture for her?" She paused, then spoke faster. "I want you to find Quan Zhilong and have them speak before the punishment is handed down. Good or bad, it'll all come to an end. How they choose to proceed is up to them..."
Li Enjing hung up with only a helpless sigh. The unfinished words Lin Shan had spoken were questions Lin Shan didn't know, and neither did she. What else could she do? She called Quan Zhilong. He was in the rehearsal room at the time, the background noise a mix of music and conversation. He heard the name "Ren Xiyao," followed by a loud crash as a chair overturned. "Where are you?" His voice was low, trembling almost imperceptibly.
In the Seoul night, in the underground parking lot of the YG building, Kwon Ji-yong sat in the back seat of his van waiting for Lee Eun-jung. The smell of smoke filled the car, and the dark circles under his eyes were even darker than the night. When Lee Eun-jung got in the car, he hurriedly turned on the car air purifier, his fingertips unconsciously scratching shallow marks on the leather seats.
"Lin Shan said her investigation is almost over, but she hasn't returned her phone yet." Li Enjing handed over the phone: "Maybe... just this once before it's over..."
Kwon Ji-yong's fingertips trembled slightly as they touched the phone case. Lee Eun-jung opened the car door, giving him space. They both knew things had come to this point; what chance did they have? Where could they go? What choices did they have?
For a quiet, long time, like a century.
"Hello?"
The call was connected.
A familiar, unforgettable voice came through the receiver, tinged with a barely perceptible hoarseness and weariness.
It was Ren Xiyao's voice.
Kwon Ji-yong's breathing almost completely stopped for a moment.
Ten days.
Ten full days. He hadn't heard her voice, hadn't received any news from her. Those ten days felt like an eternity to him. Every minute, every second was filled with torment and longing.
“...It’s me.” He spoke, his voice hoarse beyond belief.
There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone. Those two seconds felt like an eternity to Kwon Ji-yong. He could even clearly hear his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
"Um."
Just that one word, a calm, monosyllabic response. Yet it struck Kwon Ji-yong's heart like an invisible hammer. His fingers clenched tightly, his nails digging deep into his palms.
"You haven't gotten your phone back yet?" he asked.
"Um."
"What about disciplinary action?"
"They haven't come down yet."
Where are your teammates?
"It's alright now."
The question-and-answer session was so mechanical, it resembled an interrogation.
Kwon Ji-yong closed his eyes, his forehead pressed weakly against the cold car window. A huge, cold stone felt pressing on his chest, making it hard to breathe. He could feel her on the other end of the phone, using all her strength to maintain this deliberate distance and calm. And this calmness hurt him more than any hysteria.
"Kwon Ji-ryong".
"Um?"
"I might not be able to listen to your new song." Her voice was soft and gentle, yet it was like the sharpest knife, precisely piercing the softest spot in his heart.
His throat tightened, and after a long pause, he managed to squeeze out, "...I understand."
Another suffocating silence fell. Only the crackling of the electricity silently conveyed an unspeakable sorrow between the two.
"What's the name of the new song?" she asked.
"Untitled".
"Does it sound good?"
Kwon Ji-yong tried hard to force a smile, but tears welled up and fell first, dripping onto the back of his hand resting on his knee. He wiped his face haphazardly, his voice thick with nasal congestion: "It sounds awful."
A very soft gasp came from the other end of the phone, as if someone was trying hard to suppress something.
"Kwon Ji-ryong".
"Um."
"The hot springs in Gangneung... are very warm."
He finally couldn't hold back any longer, pressing his forehead hard against the cold, hard car window, his shoulders beginning to tremble uncontrollably.
"Um."
"The sunset in Las Vegas is also beautiful."
"Um."
“And…” Her voice finally broke into an undisguised sob, like a volcano that had been suppressed for a long time about to erupt: “The wild ice rinks in Harbin and the wind in western Sichuan.”
Kwon Ji-yong bit his lip hard until he tasted a faint metallic taste of blood. Tears streamed down his face like a broken string of pearls, blurring his vision.
He knew what she was talking about.
She was saying goodbye.
Using the few precious and beautiful memories they once shared, they slowly peeled each other away from their lives.
"Ren Xiyao." He called out her name with a hoarse voice, each word seeming to bleed from his broken heart.
"Um?"
"Is the ring... still there?" He asked the question he had always been afraid to ask, yet most wanted to know the answer to. There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, so long that he thought she wouldn't answer.
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.
"exist."
Do you still have the clasp?
"carrying"
Kwon Ji-yong looked up and took several deep breaths before managing to steady his voice: "That's good."
"Kwon Ji-ryong".
"Um."
"Take care." Ren Xiyao's voice carried a gentleness and admonition he had never heard before, yet it also carried a heartbreaking resolve.
He smiled, but the tears flowed even more fiercely: "You too."
"Um."
Kwon Ji-yong
"Um"
"Happy birthday"
He knew what she was talking about. While the entire company was treating this album as a savior, she was still remembering him. This was a carefully prepared 30th birthday gift to himself: "Okay."
"So... he hung up?"
"Ren Xiyao".
"Um?"
"Don't be afraid!" Kwon Ji-yong desperately suppressed his emotions, wishing that these words could still give her some strength, just like before. But he knew it was a drop in the ocean, and ironically, it was the only thing he could offer her at this moment.
"good."
The sound was so soft that it would dissipate with a gust of wind, yet it was also so heavy that it seemed to pierce through the heart, leaving only pain and struggle.
The moment the call ended, Kwon Ji-yong slammed his fist into the seat.
When Li Enjing opened the car door, she saw him curled up in the seat, silently howling like a wounded wild beast.
Ren Xiyao returned the phone to Lin Shan. She looked down at the plain ring on her ring finger, where sunlight shone through the glass, refracting into tiny spots of light.
The summer of 2017 has begun, but their emotional moment stopped at the first cicada's chirp.
However, the sadness didn't have time to build up. At the same time, in a courtyard that held a hidden world within, it was so quiet that you could hear the soft sound of water boiling in a purple clay teapot. The sandalwood scent of the tea room mingled with the astringency of Longjing tea, and while cicadas chirped noisily outside the window, the interior was as still as if it were immersed in water.
The owner of Lanhai Club stirred the tea cake with a tea needle, his smile hiding a chilling undercurrent: "I thought Longcheng was still planning to remain a coward, but I didn't expect him to actually go to such lengths this time. But did he really think that submitting his resignation would be the end of it? Power, once you let go, you might not be able to get it back even in ten years." He glanced at Coach Jin across from him: "How many people has Lanhai sent to the national team in the past twenty years? The batch of referees that Coach Tang trained, the rehabilitation center that Dr. Li is currently managing, and those in the General Administration of Sport..." He didn't finish his sentence, but just took a sip of tea: "Saying that he's nurturing talent for the country isn't an exaggeration, is it? Having some power is just a way to make things run more smoothly."
Li, the director of the sports university, picked up his teacup, the rim touching his nose: "He's over fifty and still can't settle down and retire, he just keeps causing trouble. Fine, the suspension is just the beginning. There are plenty of ways to torment him, what's the rush? It's just a bit troublesome..." He chuckled: "Still want to replicate the women's team's legend? You've probably forgotten who's in charge of Lanhai now, trying to seize the power of the Beijing cycle."
The team leader sneered, "Those guys from Longcheng are acting like ascetics now, as if they can't live without training. But try letting them hold any real power and see what happens. They're all clubs, or to put it bluntly, profit-driven businessmen. Who's superior to whom? I don't believe anyone can resist the lure of resources and Olympic spots. Pure? That's just fooling outsiders. Equipment, coaches, facilities, advanced training resources—all of that costs money. There's an old saying, 'The poor study literature, the rich study martial arts.' Which top athlete wasn't trained at great expense? The country's massive investment in winter sports shows how much importance it places on them. What do the athletes' achievements represent? They're a fast track to success, something money can't buy..."
As the tea boiled several times, the conversation turned to Ren Xiyao, and the air in the private room seemed to cool down a bit. The owner of Lan Hai Club frowned slightly, as if remembering something: "She hasn't completely broken things off with that South Korean star yet?"
"Kwon Ji-yong? Ha, Ren Xiyao is incredibly audacious to be with someone like that. But Kwon Ji-yong is truly something else, having been in South Korea for so many years, and after dating for so long, he hasn't let a word slip." The team leader poured some tea for everyone present, his tone somewhat strange: "If only they hadn't completely broken things off, what a pity..."
Director Lee frowned slightly: "YG has tightly controlled the evidence, probably bought it all out. Without evidence, there's nothing we can do but resort to a media assault, which might not be a good strategy, as it's a double-edged sword. Besides, they have deep roots in the entertainment industry and are good at dealing with the media. Kwon Ji-yong's business empire is too large, and if the media frenzy starts, there will be too many variables, and we might not be able to control it. Moreover, it could easily blur the public's focus and cause the narrative to develop in the direction we want."
"Hmph, it doesn't matter. Those kinds of tricks in the media are all played by people in the entertainment industry. They have no right to know about the real undercurrents. Just set some rules for that entertainment company. Shut them up." The owner of Lanhai Club drew a shallow mark on the tea tray with his tea needle: "We didn't get involved before, and we won't get involved now. It's none of our business to interfere in sports."
Coach Kim didn't say much throughout, except for this moment when he took a sip of tea and said in broken Chinese, "It's a pleasure to work with you."
After everyone had left, the team leader approached Lan Hai's boss and said, "The list of funding for the Beijing cycle has been released, and it's more than expected."
“We need to pave the way in advance. We must hold onto what we need.” He tapped the tea tray with the lid of his teacup: “The cooperation with the university needs to be further refined. Things like ‘technical exchange’ and ‘talent cultivation’ need to have impressive names and tangible benefits…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but the meaning in his eyes was crystal clear.
"But they are foreign parties after all... and given the current relationship between the two sides... can we achieve anything in Pingcheng?"
"What's with all this talk about foreign and domestic teams?" Lan Hai's boss interrupted him, his eyes turning cold. "Achieving results and getting resources is what matters. Do you think those higher-ups don't understand? They want gold medals, they want results, especially during the Beijing cycle. As for who trained them, what methods were used, as long as it's within the rules, nobody really cares. What does it matter if there are connections? Hasn't finance and trade recovered? We're a business club, we're businessmen, we talk business... Do I need to teach you these kinds of tactics? Can't you play the game?" He picked up his teacup, examining the color of the tea in the light. "As for Pingcheng's results, what's the rush? Winter events aren't just about short track. As long as it's not too bad, that's fine. Beijing is our home turf. Besides, we're not sending talent to others; we're using their experience to promote our own people. What's the point of worrying about temporary gains and losses?"
“Power is like tea; it needs to be steeped and brewed slowly,” he said slowly. “You can’t rush it, but you can’t let your guard down either.”
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