Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

Chapter 113 - Spinning in the Snow

1

Switzerland. St. Moritz.

December 24th. Christmas Eve.

The clinic is located at the foot of the Alps in a 19th-century stone building.

Outside the window is a ski resort; people ski during the day, but at night it's all just a vast expanse of white.

Ling Wuwen was lying in a hospital room on the third floor.

Body temperature 37.2℃. Stable for three consecutive days.

This is her best data since she was admitted to the hospital.

Gu Xidong sat on the edge of the bed, holding the black notebook in his hand.

He had already read Ling Wufeng's diary four times. The creases on each page were getting deeper, and some of the writing was blurred by his fingerprints.

Snow began to fall outside the window.

The first snowflake landed on the glass and melted quickly.

The second film.

Part Three. Ten minutes later, a thin layer of white had accumulated on the windowsill.

Ling Wuwen opened his eyes.

She turned to look out the window.

"It's snowing."

Gu Xidong closed his diary.

"Um."

She slowly sat up.

He supported her back and propped her up with pillows. She moved more nimbly than a week ago, able to lift her hands on her own without his help.

She looked out the window.

The snow fell heavier and heavier. The streetlights illuminated the falling snowflakes, each one swirling in the light.

"I want to dance," she said.

He looked at her.

"Now?"

"Now."

He stood up and took her down jacket from the closet. He helped her put it on, zipping it all the way up.

He put on a long black coat.

She got out of bed.

My feet felt cool on the floor.

She flinched, and he squatted down and put the cotton slippers on her feet.

She looked down at him.

"Gu Xidong".

"Um."

"You're spoiling me."

He stood up.

"You can't spoil someone."

Her lips twitched slightly.

2

The corridor is very long.

White walls, gray floor tiles, and a wall lamp every ten meters.

The lampshade was milky white, providing soft light. The ward doors on both sides of the corridor were all closed. The other patients were already asleep.

The lights were on at the nurses' station. The nurse on duty looked up at them, said nothing, and then lowered her head to continue writing her notes.

Ling Wuwen walked while supporting himself against the wall.

Every step was slow.

The immunosuppressants made her muscles weak and her knees tremble. Gu Xidong walked beside her, his arm ready to support her at any moment.

She stopped in the middle of the corridor.

"Here," she said.

He looked at her.

"It's spacious here."

He nodded.

She turned around to face him.

She reached out her hands. Her left hand rested on his shoulder. Her right hand reached towards him.

He took her right hand in his.

He held her waist with his other hand.

She was so thin. Underneath her down jacket, her waist was so thin you could feel her ribs. He supported her as if she were a fragile piece of porcelain.

"There's no music," she said.

"have."

She looked at him.

"What?"

He looked down and gazed into her eyes.

"The sound of breathing. The sound of footsteps. The sound of falling snow."

She didn't say anything.

He began to move.

Very slowly. One step, two steps, three steps.

She followed his rhythm, her feet sliding across the floor tiles.

The cotton slippers made no sound; only the slight friction of the soles of his leather shoes pressing against the ground could be heard.

She leaned against him.

Most of the weight was on him. He supported her, a sharp pain shooting through his left knee, which he ignored.

Spin.

Very slow. One lap. Two laps.

Her hair brushed against his chin, carrying the smell of hospital disinfectant. But that wasn't what he smelled.

It's snow, it's a winter night, it's a white world outside the window.

She buried her face in his chest.

He could feel the rise and fall of her breath. It was very light, like snow falling on the windowsill.

Continue rotating.

Third lap. Fourth lap.

The light at the nurses' station was still on. The nurse on duty looked up and saw two figures moving slowly down the corridor.

She looked at it for a while, then lowered her head and continued writing in her notes.

Spin.

Fifth lap.

Sixth lap.

Ling Wuwen raised his head.

She looked at him.

3

"Gu Xidong".

He stopped.

"Um."

She didn't let go of his hand on his shoulder.

"If one day I become a completely different person," she began, "forgetting you, forgetting all of this, would you still love me?"

He looked at her.

The wall lamps in the corridor cast a soft light on her face.

Her eyes shone brightly in the light, and his reflection was in her pupils.

Three seconds. Five seconds. Ten seconds.

"I love the person who dared to kiss me in the pouring rain," he said.

She didn't say anything.

"The soul that dares to stand up before the gun," he continued.

"Whatever it's called now, or whatever it will be called in the future."

She looked at him.

Her eyes slowly reddened.

"are you sure?"

He lowered his head, his forehead touching hers.

"Sure."

She closed her eyes.

Tears streamed down my face.

He didn't wipe it. He just kept pressing his forehead against hers.

The snow is still falling outside the window. Flakes land one by one on the windowsill, on the streetlights, and on the distant ski slopes.

They stood in the middle of the corridor.

There was no music. Only the sounds of breathing, footsteps, and falling snow.

4

The nurse stood up and walked to the window.

She looked at the snow outside for a while, then turned and went back to the nurses' station.

The two people were still in the corridor.

The man supported the woman, and the woman leaned against him.

They were talking, but their voices were so soft that it was impossible to hear what they were saying. Only the woman's lips moved, and the man's lips moved.

The nurse looked down at the monitor screen.

Heart rate is stable. Blood oxygen levels are normal.

She picked up her pen and wrote in her notebook:

"On December 24th, at 23:47, the patient was moving around in the corridor, accompanied by Mr. Gu. Vital signs were normal."

She put down her pen.

Look up and take another look.

The two people started moving. Very slowly, one circle, two circles.

The nurse looked at it for three seconds.

Lower your head.

Continue writing in the journal.

5

"Are you cold?" Gu Xidong asked.

Ling Wuwen shook his head.

"It's not cold."

But he still pulled the collar of her down jacket tighter. He zipped it all the way up, covering her chin.

She watched him do these things.

"Gu Xidong".

"Um."

Do you remember the first time we met?

He thought about it.

"2015, National Championships. You were in the stands, I was on the ice rink."

She shook her head.

"Not that time."

He looked at her.

"Which time was that?"

She remained silent.

"In 2014," she said, "Changchun. My brother was competing, and I went to watch him. You were warming up by the ice rink, and I walked past you. You glanced at me."

He recalled.

I can't remember.

"You glanced at me," she said, "and then looked down and continued tying your shoelaces."

He looked at her.

"You remember this?"

She nodded.

"My brother later told me that the person who tied the shoelaces was named Gu Xidong. He said you would become a world champion."

He didn't speak.

She reached out and touched his face.

"He's right."

He took her hand.

6

One o'clock in the morning.

The nurse came over.

"It's time to rest," she said softly. "The patient needs sleep."

Gu Xidong nodded.

He helped Ling Wuwen slowly walk back to the ward.

She walked very slowly, each step as if measuring the distance. She stopped at the door.

Look back down the corridor.

"I want to jump a little longer," she said.

"tomorrow."

She nodded.

Entering the ward.

He helped her take off her down jacket and helped her lie down. The blanket was pulled up to her chest. She reached out her hand, and he took it.

"Where do you sleep?"

He pointed outside the door.

"Folding bed".

"It's cold outside."

"There is heating."

She looked at him.

"Gu Xidong".

"Um."

"Merry Christmas."

He lowered his head and touched her fingers with his lips.

"Merry Christmas."

He turned and walked out of the ward.

The door closed.

She looked at the ceiling.

The snow is still falling outside the window. Snowflakes cling to the glass, slowly melting. One by one, one by one.

She closed her eyes.

7

Three o'clock in the morning.

Gu Xidong lay on the folding bed.

I didn't sleep.

He looked at the ceiling of the corridor.

The light bulb hummed softly. The white light from the nurses' station shone through the corner, casting a half-lit, half-shadow on him.

He was thinking about what she had said.

You glanced at me, then looked down and continued tying your shoelaces.

He looked back on 2014.

Changchun. National Championships. He was indeed warming up. Someone did walk past him. But he didn't remember the face.

He was twenty-one years old at the time.

His mind was filled with nothing but the ice rink, jumping, and spinning. He wouldn't remember a stranger walking past him.

That person is now lying in the ward three meters behind him.

He closed his eyes.

The snow is still falling.

8

Seven o'clock in the morning.

Ling Wuwen opened his eyes.

Gu Xidong sat on the edge of the bed.

He was holding that black notebook in his hand.

"woke up?"

She nodded.

He opened his diary.

"December 24, 2017," he read.

She froze for a moment.

"Did he write that day?"

He nodded.

"Wuwen called today. She said she wouldn't be going home for Christmas and would be staying with the team for training. I said okay. Only after hanging up did I realize that she was alone."

He paused.

I texted her: Merry Christmas. She replied: Merry Christmas to you too.

Ling Wuwen remained silent.

He continued reading.

"Next Christmas, I'm going to see her. I'll take her out for a nice meal, go shopping with her, and buy her a gift. I'll make up for everything I owe her."

He closed his diary.

She looked out the window.

The snow stopped. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the clouds, spreading a golden layer across the snow.

"He didn't come," she said.

Gu Xidong took her hand.

"He's here."

She turned to look at him.

"In his diary," he said. "He was in it every Christmas."

She didn't say anything.

Tears streamed down my face.

9

10:00 AM.

The nurse pushed the door open and came in.

"Someone brought a gift."

She was holding a cardboard box in her hands. The packaging was simple, white, and unsigned.

Gu Xidong took it.

open.

Inside was a pair of ice skates.

White, women's style, size is exactly Ling Wuwen's size.

The blade was brand new, without scratches or wear. A line of small text was embroidered on the shoe tongue:

"For Wuwen, brother."

Ling Wuwen looked at the shoes.

long time.

She reached out and touched the words.

How did he know I was in Switzerland?

Gu Xidong remained silent.

He looked out the window.

A trail of footprints stretched across the snow from the building entrance into the distance. The footprints were deep, indicating that the person who left them was walking very slowly.

He stood up.

I walked to the window.

At the end of the footprints, a person in a black coat was walking towards the parking lot.

The person walked very slowly, each step leaving a deep mark, like a footprint in the snow.

The man stopped.

Look back.

Three hundred meters away, across the snow, and through the reflection of the car window, he couldn't see that face clearly.

But he knew who it was.

The man stood there for three seconds.

He turned around and got into the car.

The car started, drove away from the parking lot, and disappeared into the snowy landscape.

Gu Xidong turned around.

Ling Wuwen was holding the pair of ice skates.

She pressed her face against the tongue of the shoe, against the words.

"Brother," she said.

The sound was very soft.

So softly that only she could hear it.