Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

The black and white image on the television screen was relentlessly ticking towards 00:00:03.

Those were the last three seconds of the game.

The air seemed to freeze, with only the faint buzzing of electricity remaining, like the whisper of death in one's ear.

The image shows the ice surface.

Gu Xidong took a deep breath, his chest rising high and then slowly sinking.

His body was like a bow drawn to its limit, every muscle taut and strained under the lights, exuding an explosive beauty.

Sweat soaked his forehead, shimmering under the spotlight.

He's about to jump.

That was the last quadruple jump of his entire routine.

A perfect, god-like four-stage jump.

As long as he loses decisively, the gold medal is his.

Glory, flowers, applause—the whole world will grovel before his ice blade.

He didn't look behind him.

He doesn't need to see it.

In his world, the game was over.

He's the winner. From beginning to end.

However, at that moment...

Behind us, a rapid, piercing sound of ice breaking came from the ice.

"Snap! Snap! Snap!"

That wasn't the sound of gliding.

It was a sound that was... close to the limit, tearing through the air.

It's a reckless, all-consuming sprint, burning with the intensity of life itself.

Ling Wuwen's pupils suddenly contracted, his heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly by an invisible hand, and even breathing became difficult.

She saw it.

In the bottom right corner of the screen, there is Ling Wufeng, who should have slowed down or even given up due to exhaustion.

At this moment, his face was completely bloodless, as white as a sheet of paper.

But his eyes were frighteningly bright.

That wasn't the look of someone yearning for victory.

It was a look... of someone facing death. A light that was both resolute and liberated, almost insane.

He did not choose to surpass it.

He did not choose to rush towards the finish line.

He slammed his feet off the ice, his skates scraping up two fine streaks of ice.

He was like a cannonball that had been launched.

In a suicidal manner that completely violates the laws of motion.

With its full weight and speed.

Hard.

Resolutely.

It crashed into Gu Xidong's side and rear!

That location.

There was no referee's line of sight.

There was no audience to focus on it.

Only Gu Xidong's back, completely unprepared, was gathering strength for a leap.

2

Time seemed to stretch out infinitely at this moment.

The world is fragmented into countless broken frames.

The footage, due to the stuttering of the old cassette tape, turned into a brutal and suffocating slow-motion scene.

First frame.

Ling Wufeng's body struck Gu Xidong's side and chest like a heavy iron hammer.

Gu Xidong's body, which was full of strength and ready to take off, suddenly froze.

The confident, even slightly arrogant smile on his face, before it could fully unfold, froze into utter astonishment.

He didn't even have time to feel the pain.

The brain's reaction is always slower than the body's response to trauma.

His body, under the enormous, unimaginable impact, resembled a kite with a broken string.

It suddenly took flight.

It flew into the air.

He flew towards the pristine, jade-white ice surface where he was supposed to land perfectly.

Second frame.

His body traced a tragic, out-of-control parabola in the air.

His left leg was still unconsciously rotating due to inertia.

But that's not a graceful figure skating move.

It was a meaningless struggle of the limbs on the verge of death.

His body slammed heavily and without any cushioning onto the protective mat at the side of the field.

But the protective pad was too thin.

It is simply not strong enough to withstand such a high-speed impact.

His left leg was at a visibly bizarre and nauseating angle.

A "click" sound.

It was twisted and broken by force.

The sound of bones breaking was crisp yet dull, seemingly piercing through the old cassette tape and the television speakers.

It rang clearly and fiercely in Ling Wuwen's ears.

Gu Xidong's mouth suddenly opened.

But not a sound was made.

The intense pain, exceeding the limits of human endurance, caused him to lose his voice instantly, and his mind went completely blank.

He arched his body in agony, like a boiled shrimp.

He clung tightly to his deformed, mangled left leg with both hands, his knuckles turning white from the force.

The third frame.

The camera suddenly shifts.

They returned to the point of impact.

The person who caused the impact.

Ling Wufeng.

Because of action and reaction forces.

He lost all control of his body the moment of impact.

He was like a rag doll that had been thrown out.

On the ice, it spins and tumbles uncontrollably.

His helmet flew off during the impact.

Like a tossed pebble, it rolled away into the distance.

His young, pale face was revealed.

His eyes were wide open.

There is no pain inside.

There was no fear of death.

There is only one kind of... relief.

A hollow sense of relief, as if a mission has finally been accomplished.

then.

In slow motion.

The back of his head.

That most vulnerable part that has no protection whatsoever.

Heavy and heavy.

Crisp and clear.

With a "thump".

It struck the ice, which was as hard as iron.

That sound.

It wasn't big, but it was exceptionally clear.

Like an overripe watermelon that has been smashed onto a concrete floor.

Dull.

And yet, it sends chills down your spine.

3

The image suddenly freezes.

The image freezes on the moment Ling Wufeng falls.

Followed by.

The entire room fell silent.

A deathly silence.

Time seemed to stand still.

then.

Screams.

Like a tsunami.

From the television, from that time and space that had been sealed for three years.

It erupted.

It swallowed everything in an instant.

The screen began to shake violently.

The person holding the camera was also so frightened by the sudden tragedy that their hands trembled and they could no longer keep their balance.

Ling Wuwen stared intently at the screen.

Her mind was blank.

She saw it.

On the ice.

On the ice surface, as white as jade.

At the place where Ling Wufeng fell.

A dazzling, alluring red plum blossom.

It is happening at a speed visible to the naked eye.

It blooms rapidly.

blood.

Warm, fresh blood.

It dyed the ice surface red.

It stained Ling Wufeng's white racing suit red.

It also stained Gu Xidong's outstretched hand, which was trying to grab him, red.

Gu Xidong clutched his broken leg, rolling on the ground in agony, cold sweat soaking the stray hairs on his forehead.

His hands were stained with blood.

He wanted to capture Ling Wufeng.

But he couldn't catch it.

He could only watch helplessly.

Watching the pool of blood flow more and more, like a small stream.

Watching Ling Wufeng's body gradually grow cold and stiff on the ice.

Looking at that life that was just moments ago so vibrant, with its stubborn smile.

In front of oneself.

It's slipping away little by little.

dissipate.

The commentator's voice, choked with sobs and filled with disbelief and terror, echoed hoarsely in the air above the stadium and in Ling Wuwen's mind.

"...Oh my god! What...what is this?"

"...Ling Wufeng! Why did he do this?"

"...He deliberately crashed into Gu Xidong! He ruined himself! And he ruined Gu Xidong too!"

"...Why? Why?"

"This is a tragedy! This is an irreversible catastrophe!"

Why?

Ling Wuwen stood in front of the television.

Tears flowed like a flood bursting its banks.

It surged forth, blurring her vision.

She looked at the screen, at Gu Xidong's face contorted in agony.

Looking at his strangely twisted left leg.

He watched in despair as his blood-stained hand reached out to Ling Wufeng.

All the hatred she had harbored over the past three years.

All the reasons for revenge.

All the self-pity and persistence.

At this moment.

This slow-motion replay.

Behold this blood-red plum blossom.

We were struck by this cruel truth.

It was smashed to pieces.

She always believed that Gu Xidong was the one who killed her brother.

It was his jealousy, his scheming, and that collision.

result.

It's her brother.

He deliberately bumped into Gu Xidong.

He risked his life.

It ruined Gu Xidong's leg.

It also ruined Gu Xidong's future.

Why?

Why?

4

"Sizzle—!"

Suddenly, a blinding burst of sparks erupted from the television screen.

The old cassette tape, after playing the final truth, finally succumbed to the electrical load and burned out completely.

The screen went black.

The sound stopped.

In the ruins.

A deathly silence.

All that remained was Ling Wuwen's suppressed, broken sobs.

She knelt down on the ground.

He grabbed his hair with both hands.

Her fingernails dug deep into her scalp, and the pain gave her a fleeting sense of unreal reality.

She remembered.

She remembered everything.

before that.

The night before the match.

Her brother found her.

His face was as pale as a ghost, but his eyes were unusually gentle.

He stroked her head and said to her in a hoarse voice:

"Xiao Wen, if... I mean if... something happens to me on the field. Or... if I do something strange. You must hate Gu Xidong."

"You need to keep an eye on him for me."

"Make him wish he were dead."

"Only in this way...can he survive."

"Only if he becomes a 'scumbag' will those people... not kill him to silence him."

Those people?

who is it?

Who wants to kill Gu Xidong?

Ling Wufeng.

Why did he do that?

He used his own death.

By destroying Gu Xidong's glory and future.

To protect Gu Xidong?

This made him a "perfect target".

It becomes a "discarded piece of trash".

In order to escape the pursuit of the mastermind behind the scenes?

Ling Wuwen's mind was buzzing.

the truth.

Like a red-hot branding iron.

It burned fiercely and deeply into her soul.

The pain was so intense she couldn't breathe, so intense she wanted to die.

Just then.

"Boom!"

A loud bang shook the entire ruins.

The iron gate, engulfed in flames and ablaze with kerosene.

It was violently knocked away.

In the firelight.

A figure.

They rushed in.

It's Gu Xidong.

He was covered in fire.

His clothes were on fire on his arm, and his skin was sizzling.

His face was covered in soot, only his eyes shone brightly in the firelight.

He wasn't holding a fire extinguisher.

He stumbled and staggered to Ling Wuwen's side.

He grabbed her collar.

They lifted her up from the ground.

His eyes were bloodshot.

He stared intently at her.

That look in his eyes.

Like a wounded, dying wild beast.

It was filled with pain.

It was filled with despair.

There was also a hint of... the madness and embarrassment of being exposed.

"You saw it?"

He roared.

His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper, and carried a bloody smell.

"Did you see how he died?"

Ling Wuwen was in tears.

She looked at him.

Looking at the person she had hated for three years.

Looking at this person whom her brother protected with his life.

Looking at the burned skin on his arm.

She opened her mouth.

I want to ask him why.

I want to ask him when he found out.

I want to ask him if the torment he endured over the past three years was all a joke.

But she couldn't make a sound.

My throat felt like it was blocked.

Gu Xidong looked at the tears on her face.

Looking at the regret and despair in her eyes.

His hand was gripping her collar.

It slowly loosened up.

My strength seemed to have been drained away in an instant.

His whole being.

It's as if all the bones and supports have been removed.

Following the wall.

He slid down and sat on the ground.

He sat in that burning sea of ​​fire.

Leaning against the wall.

Looking at the burnt-out television set, billowing black smoke.

Looking at the cassette tape that had turned to charcoal.

He laughed suddenly.

Amidst the laughter.

With a sob in her voice.

It was filled with endless sorrow and self-mockery.

"You didn't want to know...?"

Why should I buy that camera equipment?

He raised his head.

Looking at Ling Wuwen.

His eyes were vacant, as if they pierced through her and showed her that night three years ago.

"Because that night..."

"Your brother came to see me."

He told me…

"Someone wants to kill me on the field."

"Either I'll risk my life."

"Either use his life."

"In exchange for my 'uselessness'."

He paused.

The sound was as soft as the wind.

I told him not to go.

I begged him not to go.

"But he still went."

He said, "Only in this way can I live."

He said, "Only in this way can you be safe."

He looked at Ling Wuwen.

Tears streamed from his eyes, which were always cold and mocking.

It flowed down.

"So these three years."

"I drank on purpose."

"Intentionally starting a fight."

"Intentionally turning yourself into a scumbag."

"Because only in this way..."

"That's why they'll think I'm a piece of trash."

"Only then will you let me go."

"Only then will I let you go."

He stretched out his hand.

He wanted to touch Ling Wuwen's face.

I want to feel the temperature of those tears.

But the hand was only halfway out.

It stopped again.

He clenched his fist.

He slammed it hard against his broken leg.

The excruciating pain contorted his face.

But he was smiling.

Laughing hysterically.

Are you satisfied now?

"Ling Wuwen".

"Your revenge..."

"it's over."

"My hell..."

"It's over."

He slowly took something out of his pocket.

That's not a knife.

It's not a gun.

It is one.

lighter.

It's exactly the same as the one Ling Wuwen has.

He looked at the cluster of flames.

In the sea of ​​fire.

Leaping.

It reflected his face, which was half ashes and half tears.

"Now that the truth is clear..."

"Since we have no other way out..."

"Then how about..."

"Right here in this fire."

"Burn everything."

He stood up.

Swaying and staggering.

He walked towards Ling Wuwen.

He stretched out his hand.

I didn't go to hug her.

Instead, it was the lighter.

It was handed to her.

"Come."

"Give me a hand."

"help me……"

"Complete liberation."

The firelight danced in his eyes and was reflected in Ling Wuwen's pupils.