Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

Seven days after the exhibition match, at the press conference at the ISU headquarters.

More than 300 reporters crowded the hall, cameras were set up in a dense forest, and the flashes were so bright that it was hard to open one's eyes.

Seven people were seated on the dais: the president of the International Skating Union, the chairman of the disciplinary committee, the legal advisor, and four observers from different countries.

Gu Xidong was not present.

He was in his hotel room, watching the live television broadcast.

Ling Wuwen's seat was empty.

In the footage, the president of the International Skating Union cleared his throat and began to read out the verdict:

"Following a comprehensive review by the investigation committee, and based on the evidence publicly available on the day of the exhibition match and subsequent submissions, the International Skating Union Disciplinary Committee has ruled—"

He paused for a moment, and the entire hall was so quiet that you could hear the shutter click.

"Chen Guodong, Zhou Wentao, Li Zhiyuan, Wang Haidong, and 19 others are permanently banned from competition, and all their historical achievements, medals, and honorary titles are revoked. They are also permanently barred from engaging in any training, coaching, or management work related to the Skating Union."

Gu Xidong clenched his hands on his knees.

Nineteen names. Nineteen people. The core members of the "breeding poison" plan, from coaches to team doctors, from management to the masterminds behind the scenes. Not a single one was missed.

"Secondly, the International Skating Union has established an 'Athletes's Rights Committee' immediately, composed of independent council members and representatives of current and retired athletes. Gu Xidong will serve as honorary chairman for a five-year term."

The camera cuts to the audience, where some people begin to applaud.

"Third, an independent oversight mechanism will be established. Starting today, all referee scoring records for international competitions will be made public and subject to third-party auditing. Any abnormal scoring will automatically trigger an investigation."

The applause grew louder.

Gu Xidong turned off the TV.

enough.

He stood up and walked to the window.

Outside the window is the street scene of Seoul, with a constant flow of traffic and flashing neon lights.

The exhibition match seven days ago, those solo dances, those pieces of evidence, those accusations—it all felt like a dream.

But when the dream ended, Ling Wuwen was gone.

2

At the same time, at Zurich Airport in Switzerland.

A man in a gray trench coat was surrounded by four plainclothes officers as soon as he stepped out of the arrival gate.

"Mr. Volkov?"

He stopped and looked at the faces in front of him. His lips twitched as if he wanted to laugh.

"You're faster than I expected."

"Interpol. You are under arrest. Charges: human trafficking, illegal human experimentation, organized crime—"

"I know," Volkov interrupted him, extending his hand. "Handcuffs? Or are we just leaving?"

The plainclothes officers exchanged a glance and then handcuffed him.

As the escort vehicle drove away from the airport, Volkov glanced back at the terminal's massive glass facade.

The setting sun shone on it, reflecting a dazzling light.

He said something in a low voice, but no one heard him.

The interrogation lasted seventy-two hours.

Volkov's cooperation was unexpected—he revealed the source of all the experimental documents, the flow of funds, and the details of his transactions with Chen Guodong and others.

But whenever Ling Wuwen was asked, he would fall silent.

On the fourth day, the interrogator changed his strategy.

Where is she?

Volkov looked at him, his eyes calm.

"She completed the deal. I let her go."

"Where to?"

"have no idea."

"You let her go, don't you know where she went?"

Volkov leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling.

"She signed the agreement. She traded her freedom for those documents. I honored the agreement. Where she went after she left is none of my business."

The interrogator slammed a stack of photos on the table.

"This is a list of private nursing homes in the five Nordic countries. Which one is she in?"

Volkov glanced at it and shook his head.

"have no idea."

"If you don't tell us, we can investigate."

"Investigate," Volkov said, closing his eyes. "But you won't find anything. Because she doesn't want you to."

3

Raven called late at night.

Gu Xidong had just fallen asleep when his phone vibrated so loudly that the bedside table was buzzing.

He reached out and answered the call, and upon hearing the raven's voice, he instantly snapped back to reality.

"We've found a lead."

"explain."

"In Northern Europe, in the area where Finland, Sweden, and Norway meet, there's a private nursing home that admitted an Asian female patient three weeks ago. She used a pseudonym, paid in cash, and refused to register her real information."

Gu Xidong sat up, his heart starting to race.

"Can you confirm it's her?"

"No," said the raven.

"That nursing home has a very high level of secrecy, and its clients are all wealthy people or people who need to 'disappear.' I hacked into it once, but their medical records are physically isolated—not connected to the internet."

Send me the address.

"Don't rush," Raven's voice deepened.

"There's another piece of information. That patient was in a deep coma when admitted to the hospital."

Gu Xidong stopped breathing.

"What's the reason?"

"I don't know. It could be a rejection reaction, a side effect of the medication, or—" Raven paused, "it could be her own choice."

"What do you mean?"

"She signed the agreement in exchange for those documents. But we don't know the contents of the agreement. Volkov said she 'completed the deal,' but completed what? What did she give in exchange?"

Gu Xidong held his phone, his knuckles turning white.

He recalled the day of the exhibition match, when Ling Wuwen stood in the center of the ice rink, watching him finish his last dance.

Her eyes were so calm, as if she were saying goodbye.

She already knew.

She knew all along that she would leave after that dance.

"I'm flying to Northern Europe tomorrow," he said.

"I'll book the tickets for you," said the raven, "but consider the east and west—"

"Um?"

"Be mentally prepared. If she's really in a deep coma, what are you going to do if you find her?"

He gazed at the night outside the window and remained silent for a long time.

Then he said, "Let's find it first."

IV. The Empty Ice Rink

A week later, Gu Xidong returned to China.

He visited five nursing homes in Northern Europe, from Finland to Sweden, and from Sweden to Norway.

Every institution said "there is no such patient," and every institution refused to provide any further information.

The raven's trail went cold.

That mysterious Asian female patient seemed to have vanished into thin air.

He sat by the empty ice rink in the stadium, looking at the ice in front of him.

This is where they first met.

Five years ago, he was training here when she suddenly appeared and stood in the shadows of the stands watching him for a long time.

He glided over and asked her who she was looking for, and she said, "You."

He later learned that she had been watching him for three months.

Now, this place is completely deserted.

The ice surface had been re-poured, smooth as a mirror, reflecting the sparse lights overhead.

There were no knife marks, no bloodstains, no evidence of burning. Everything seemed as if it had never happened.

But it happened.

He reached out and touched the ice.

A chill crept up from my fingertips, creeping up my arm and into my heart.

The ice melted slightly under my palm, leaving a small water stain.

"I'm done dancing."

He spoke softly, his voice sounding faint and thin in the empty venue.

"Did you...see it?"

Only echoes.

His voice struck the distant wall, bounced back, and bounced back again, growing weaker and weaker until it finally disappeared into the silence.

He looked at the ice surface, at the water stains he had touched, which slowly froze into a thin layer of ice.

I suddenly remembered a quote from Ling Wuwen:

"Ice doesn't lie."

He lowered his head, his forehead touching the ice.

It's very cool. So cool it makes you feel refreshed.

He closed his eyes and heard a faint cracking sound deep within the ice.

That was the sound of ice adjusting itself to temperature changes, and also the sound of something inside him cracking.

5

Three days later, Gu Xidong received a phone call.

The number is from Norway, and it's unfamiliar.

He answered the call, and there was a long silence on the other end, so long that he thought the other person would hang up.

Then a woman spoke, her English accented with a Scandinavian influence:

"Are you Mr. Gu Xidong?"

"Yes."

"I come from the Aurora Sanatorium in Oslo. About the person you've been looking for—"

Gu Xidong's hands began to tremble.

"She woke up a week ago."

He held his phone, speechless.

"But she asked us not to contact anyone. She said she needed time. She said—" the woman paused, "" she said she would show up when the time was right."

"How is she now?"

"She's still recovering. Her physical damage was severe—rejection, nerve damage, and drug side effects. But she's awake. And she's doing something."

"What is it?"

The woman remained silent for a few seconds.

"She's learning to walk."

Gu Xidong's tears welled up.

He leaned against the wall, listening to the breathing on the other end of the phone, unable to utter a single word.

"Mr. Gu, she asked me to pass on a message to you."

"What?"

"Tell him I'm done jumping. Now it's time to learn to walk."

The phone hangs up.

Gu Xidong stood there, his phone still pressed against his ear, listening to the busy tone.

Outside the window, the sun was setting. Golden light streamed into the room, illuminating his face and the still-wet tear stains.

He slowly put down his phone and looked at the light.

Then he laughed.

I laughed through my tears.

6

After that, he stopped looking for her.

He knew where she was, knew she was alive, knew she was learning to walk. That was enough.

He resumed teaching.

The number of children at the ice rink has increased from just a few to dozens, and then to hundreds.

The Iceblade Foundation's aid program has expanded to seven countries, and everyone on the victim list has received compensation and medical support.

Ling Wufeng was learning to walk with a prosthetic leg at the rehabilitation center. He fell countless times every day, but he got up every day.

Lin Xiaoman came to class on crutches. She skated more and more steadily, and her smile became more and more frequent.

The raven continued its pursuit of those still at large, sending them to prison one by one.

He was the only one who sat by the ice rink every evening, watching the children skate.

Sometimes he would think of her.

I remember the kiss on that stormy night, the dance in the ice room on a snowy night, the gaze under the aurora, and the way she looked at him on the day of the exhibition match.

Then he would lower his head, touch the ice, and whisper a sentence:

"I'm waiting for you."

The ice surface will not answer.

But each time, he could hear a faint cracking sound deep within the ice.

The voice seemed to say: She's here.

She is learning to walk.

She is on her way back.

She will appear when she is supposed to.

All he had to do was wait.

Keep waiting.

I've been waiting.

Until the day when ice skates glide across the ice again.