Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

December 20th, Rehabilitation Center.

Ling Wufeng gripped the parallel bars, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead onto the floor.

The prosthesis extends below the knee, with a titanium alloy frame, a silicone simulated outer layer, and ends in a sports-type prosthetic foot.

Specifically designed for sports rehabilitation, it can bear weight, provide cushioning, and enable basic walking movements.

But there is a hellish distance between "can" and "know".

He took a step forward.

The prosthesis landed, the center of gravity shifted forward, and the socket in the knee constricted the stump tightly—

The pain wasn't a sharp, stabbing pain, but a dull, heavy, throbbing pain that seemed to drill into the very bones.

He gritted his teeth and took another step.

"Take a break," said the therapist next to me. "You've had enough practice today."

He ignored him and kept walking.

Step 3. Step 4. Step 5.

When he reached the end of the parallel bars, he turned around and walked back.

Step 1. Step 2. Step 3.

During the fourth step, my left leg suddenly went weak, and I fell to the side.

The therapist rushed over to help him up, but he managed to brace himself against the parallel bars and didn't fall.

He stood there, panting heavily, sweat dripping down his chin.

Ling Wuwen sat in the wheelchair beside him, without saying a word.

Just looking at him.

Ling Wufeng turned his head and met her gaze.

"What are you looking at?"

"Look at you, trying to be tough."

He smiled and wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve.

"It's not about showing off. It's about learning."

Why is it necessary?

He didn't answer, but continued to hold onto the parallel bars and walk back step by step.

Ling Wuwen watched his retreating figure—

With each step, his left leg trembled slightly, the clothes on his back were soaked and clung to his skin, and his shoulders hunched slightly from the effort.

But he didn't stop.

She suddenly remembered when she was five years old, the first time she learned to ice skate, she fell more than a hundred times.

Each time, he would help her up, pat the ice off her body, and say, "Let's do it again."

Now it's his turn.

She wheeled her wheelchair closer to the double bar and stopped beside him.

"Help me up."

Ling Wufeng looked down at her.

She reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Help me walk."

He paused for a moment, then smiled.

This time, it was a genuine laugh.

2

That afternoon, Ling Wuwen accompanied him for a full two hours.

From one end of the double bars to the other, twelve steps.

From one end to the other, it's another twelve steps. Over and over again, in a never-ending cycle.

He didn't speak, and neither did she.

But every time his legs went weak, she would tighten her grip to support him.

Every time he stopped to catch his breath, she would wait quietly, without urging or asking.

The sun shone through the window, casting the shadows of the two people on the floor, overlapping, separating, and then overlapping again.

When they reached the thirty-seventh round trip, Ling Wufeng suddenly spoke.

"How many times did you fall when you were learning to ice skate?"

More than a hundred times.

"How many times have I helped you up?"

"Every single time."

He nodded and continued walking.

When he reached the forty-second round trip, he spoke again.

"So how many times do I owe you now?"

Ling Wuwen thought for a moment.

"More than one hundred times, multiplied by five years, then multiplied by three hundred and sixty-five days."

"How long will we have to keep supporting them?"

She looked up at him, her eyes shining.

"Support until it's too late."

Ling Wufeng stopped and looked down at her.

Sunlight streamed in from the side, illuminating her gray hair, her thin face, and the corners of her mouth that were slightly upturned.

Five years ago, she was the younger sister he wanted to protect.

Five years later, she was the one who supported him as he walked.

He didn't say anything, but simply reached out and patted her head, just like he did when she was a child.

Then keep walking.

3

Outside the rehabilitation center, the world is undergoing a dramatic transformation.

The contents of the hard drive ignited a global sports frenzy.

Twelve countries, thirty-seven officials, and two hundred and thirteen athletes were involved, with the amount involved exceeding 1.4 billion euros.

Ledgers, transaction records, chat screenshots, audio recordings—every piece of evidence is irrefutable, and every blow hits the most critical spot.

The news broadcasts continued for seven days, with new names being exposed and new people being arrested every day.

The plan to raise venomous insects has been completely exposed.

The list of victims who were used as experimental subjects was made public.

The Iceblade Foundation has launched a class-action lawsuit, seeking compensation from international sports organizations on behalf of 37 victims.

Ravens became the busiest people.

Every day, I receive dozens of phone calls, deal with hundreds of media outlets, and handle interview requests, cooperation invitations, threats, and intimidation from all over the world.

Gu Xidong pushed all the work onto her.

He refused all interviews, all public appearances, and all invitations to "return as a hero."

He only does one thing every day—

skate.

4

The new ice rink is not yet completed. The original ruins have been cleared, but reconstruction will take time.

Gu Xidong skated on the temporary ice rink—a venue provided by another club in the city, free for him to use anytime.

He goes there every evening and skates until late at night.

There was no music, no audience, and no goal.

It's just slippery.

One lap, two laps, three laps. Forward glide, backward glide, step turn. Single-leg spin, double-leg spin, swallow balance.

His left knee hurts every time he exerts force, but he keeps going.

If it hurts, grit your teeth and keep going until the pain goes numb.

Ling Wuwen would visit him sometimes.

Sitting in the stands, watching him spin around and around on the empty ice, like a bird trapped in a cage.

She knew what he was thinking.

Ling Wufeng's words: "Live for me."

But he didn't know how to "live for someone else".

In his life, he first lived for his parents—to prove that their choice was right.

Then it's about living for the coach—to repay his kindness. Then it's about living for her—waiting for her to come back.

Then it's about living for the truth—making those people pay the price.

Now that the truth has come out and the price has been paid, she is back, and Ling Wufeng is back too.

He should be alive.

Live for yourself.

But he didn't know what it looked like.

Late that night, Ling Wuwen wheeled himself into the rink and stopped at the edge of the ice rink.

Gu Xidong slid over, squatted down in front of her, panting, his face covered in sweat.

Are you tired?

He shook his head.

She reached out and wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead.

Why are you running?

He froze.

"I'm asking you, why do you skate like this every day?"

He looked into her eyes, opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything.

She didn't ask any more questions, she just held his hand.

"I'll skate with you."

5

Late the next night, Gu Xidong went to the ice rink as usual.

But this time, there were people on the ice.

A girl stood motionless in the center of the ice rink, her back to the entrance.

She was wearing a regular down jacket, jeans, and a pair of old ice skates—the kind that were rented and badly worn out.

She heard the door open and turned around.

Gu Xidong was stunned when he saw her face.

Very young, in her early twenties. Round face, big eyes, pale complexion, and slightly purple lips—

That's the color people with chronic anemia or who take medication regularly have.

She was using a cane.

There was clearly something wrong with his left leg; his ankle was wrapped in thick bandages, and his foot was unnaturally tilted to one side.

But she stood very straight, her back as upright as a tree.

She looked at him, her eyes bright.

Are you Gu Xidong?

He nodded.

She took a step forward, her cane tapping on the ice, and she almost slipped.

She steadied herself, took another step, and stopped three meters away.

"I am Lin Xiaoman," she said. "One of Ling Wufeng's experimental subjects back then. Number seventeen."

Gu Xidong's breath hitched for a moment.

He was a victim of the Gu poison scheme. He had seen the list; Lin Xiaoman was among the thirty-seven names.

Twenty-one years old, a figure skater, selected at thirteen, failed the experiment at seventeen, resulting in nerve necrosis in her left leg and lifelong disability.

"He saved me," Lin Xiaoman said. "I was inside during the explosion five years ago. He pushed me out."

Gu Xidong was speechless.

"I've been looking for him. Five years." She looked at Gu Xidong. "I saw the news the day before yesterday and learned that he's still alive. So I came to find him."

"He's at the rehabilitation center—"

"I know," she interrupted him. "I'm not here to see him. I'm here to see you."

"Looking for me?"

Lin Xiaoman looked at him, her eyes shining even brighter.

"I want to learn to ice skate."

Gu Xidong was stunned.

"My leg is ruined. The doctor said I can never skate again," she said.

"But I watched that video of you from five years ago. The one where you jumped under the aurora."

That was the only time he was ever filmed dancing. Someone uploaded it online, and it became a legend in the figure skating world.

"Your knees are ruined. But you're still skating." She looked him straight in the eye. "So I wanted to ask you—can you teach me?"

Gu Xidong stood at the edge of the ice rink, looking at the girl.

She leaned on a cane, her left leg was crooked, and her face was as pale as paper. But her eyes shone like two flames.

He thought of himself five years ago.

When his knee was first damaged, the doctor said he would never be able to compete again. He lay in his hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking for three days.

Then he stood up, put on his skates, and skated his first lap.

It hurts. It hurts so much I feel like I'm going to die.

But he didn't die. He skated a second lap, a third lap, a thousandth lap.

He laughed suddenly.

This was the first time he had smiled in a month.

"Okay," he said. "I'll teach you."

Lin Xiaoman paused for a moment, then smiled. The smile bloomed on her pale face, like the first crack in ice in spring.

6

The following evening, Ling Wuwen appeared at the edge of the ice rink.

She brought her own wheelchair; she didn't ask anyone to bring her.

Gu Xidong was teaching Lin Xiaoman how to stand—holding onto the protective mat, bearing weight on her left foot, and gently touching the ice with her right foot.

Lin Xiaoman fell seven times, but stood up on the eighth time.

Ling Wuwen wheeled himself closer, stopped at the edge of the ice rink, and looked at them.

Lin Xiaoman saw her first, paused for a moment, and then asked Gu Xidong, "Who is that?"

Gu Xidong turned his head, saw her, and his eyes lit up.

He didn't say anything, he just glided over and stopped in front of her.

"Why are you here?"

"I came to watch your teaching," she said, glancing at Lin Xiaoman behind him. "A new student?"

"Hmm. Lin Xiaoman, test subject number seventeen."

Ling Wuwen stared at the girl for a long time.

Then, holding onto the armrests of her wheelchair, she slowly stood up.

Gu Xidong instinctively reached out to help, but she blocked him.

"I'll do it myself."

She gritted her teeth, gripped the handrail, and stood on the ice, her legs trembling. Her left leg was weak, her right leg bearing the weight, and she swayed precariously, as if she might fall at any moment.

But she didn't fall.

She stopped.

Gu Xidong looked at her, and his eyes suddenly stung.

She looked up and met his eyes.

"Take me for a ride."

He didn't say anything, he just slid over and reached out his hand.

She took that hand.

The two slowly skated toward the center of the ice rink.

Very slow. Very slow.

It was as slow as a slow-motion scene in a movie. Her left leg dragged behind, and she would buckle with every step, but he always managed to support her just right.

He caught her every time she stumbled.

One lap. Two laps. Three laps.

Lin Xiaoman stood at the edge of the ice rink, looking at them, something flashing in her eyes.

In a corner of the rehabilitation center, Ling Wufeng sat in a wheelchair, watching all of this through the glass window.

He didn't go in.

Just watching.

Watching my younger sister glide slowly across the ice, accompanied by Gu Xidong. Watching her gray hair shimmer silver under the lights. Watching her finally stand on the ice again, finally move forward again.

His eyes were red-rimmed.

Then he laughed.

7. Three people

That night, the three of them sat side by side on the edge of the ice rink.

Ling Wuwen sat in a wheelchair, Gu Xidong sat beside her, and Ling Wufeng sat on the other side. In front of the three of them was a whole expanse of white ice, gleaming softly under the lights.

Lin Xiaoman has already left. Before she left, she said to Gu Xidong, "I'll come again tomorrow."

Ling Wufeng looked at the ice surface and suddenly spoke.

"I want to see you dance."

Ling Wuwen turned his head and looked at him.

"A real duet," he said. "Not a performance, not a competition, just the kind where the two of you dance together."

Ling Wuwen looked at Gu Xidong.

Gu Xidong looked at her.

She stood up, steadying herself with the help of her wheelchair. Then she reached out her hand to him.

"Want to give it a try?"

He stood up and took her hand.

The two slowly skated toward the center of the ice rink.

The lights came on—not ordinary streetlights, but the competition lights that Ling Wufeng had ordered. They illuminated the entire ice surface from every angle, making it look like a luminous piece of white jade.

They stood in the center of the ice rink, facing each other.

Her hand rested on his shoulder, and his hand rested on her waist.

There is no music.

But the hissing sound of ice skates cutting through the ice is the best music.

She began to move. His body moved with her.

Slowly. Gently. Every movement seemed both a probe and a response. He caught her every time she stumbled. She kept up with every spin he made.

It's not perfect technology. But every second, it's engaged in dialogue.

Ling Wufeng sat by the ice rink, watching them.

Her eyes welled up with tears again.

But he didn't blink, afraid of missing even a second.

On the ice, the two skated closer and closer, but their skating slowed down.

Finally, they stopped in the middle of the ice rink, facing each other, their hands still clasped.

She looked up and met his eyes.

He lowered his head and looked into her eyes.

The lights shone down from above, casting the shadows of the two people onto the ice, where they merged together, resembling one person.

Ling Wufeng looked at the shadow and whispered a sentence.

The voice was very soft, so soft that only he could hear it:

"This is what it means to be alive."