Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

The cold air was sliced ​​through by the sharp ice blades, making a soft "hiss" sound.

Immediately afterwards, with a loud "bang," a figure fell heavily onto the ice, sliding a long distance until it crashed into the barrier at the edge of the rink and came to a stop.

Gu Xidong lay there, his face pressed against the icy ice, his chest heaving violently. Sweat dripped from his hair, spreading into a small, dark patch on the ice.

A piercing pain shot through his left leg from his knee, a familiar yet strange pain that felt as if his bones were being torn apart.

But this pain gave him a morbid sense of pleasure.

"continue."

A cold voice lashed across the empty ice rink like a whip.

Gu Xidong struggled to lift his head and look at the figure standing outside the barrier.

Ling Wuwen was wearing a black down jacket, his arms crossed, his face expressionless, and his eyes seemed to be looking at an inanimate object.

"Continue?" Gu Xidong propped himself up, wiping the sweat from his face. His voice was hoarse and full of sarcasm. "Continue crawling on the ground like a dog? Ling Wuwen, what exactly do you want? To make me skate like an idiot, skating forward, backward, and doing push-ups? Is this what you call 'rehabilitation'?"

He found it utterly absurd. He had once been a world champion, a king on the ice. He was used to the weightlessness and explosive power of high-difficulty jumps like 4A and 4T, and the dazzling world of light and color before his eyes when spinning at high speed.

But now, she's making him act like a three-year-old who's just learning to ice skate, repeating the most basic and tedious movements over and over again.

This huge drop was even more unbearable for him than the pain in his left leg.

"For you, this is 'recovery'." Ling Wuwen walked to the barrier, looking down at him through the transparent plastic sheet. "For me, this is 'reconstruction'. Your body right now isn't even a decent piece of cast iron; at best, it's just a pile of slag. I don't need slag to jump around; I just need it to remember how to 'walk' on ice."

She emphasized the word "walking" with extreme force, her tone filled with contempt.

"You..." Gu Xidong clenched his fist tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. He wanted to rush over, to tear her cold face apart. But he didn't even have the strength to stand up.

"Get up." Ling Wuwen glanced at the stopwatch on his wrist. "You took two and a half minutes for that set of exercises. My requirement is one and a half minutes. If you can't finish within ten minutes, today's training will be doubled."

She turned away, no longer looking at him, as if he were just an insignificant object.

Gu Xidong stared intently at her retreating figure, his eyes filled with anger, humiliation, and a hint of confusion about the computer-aided surgery plan that he himself was unaware of.

He eventually managed to stand up, swaying slightly, by holding onto the partition.

The ice skates sliced ​​through the ice again.

(Please remember the website 20 ...

"hiss--"

"Bang!"

Another heavy fall.

2

The training lasted for a full three hours.

Gu Xidong glided mechanically and clumsily across the ice like a soulless puppet. With each turn and each shift of the blade, his left leg felt as if it were being repeatedly cut by countless blunt knives.

He started to become irritable.

He deliberately lost his balance while taking a step, and deliberately exerted too much force when turning, causing his body to crash heavily onto the ice. He used this self-destructive method to vent his anger, to resist Lin Wuwen's control, and also to try to escape the confusion of being "chosen" deep in his heart through this intense, real pain.

He didn't want to be controlled by her, didn't want to be "reshaped" by her, and didn't want to think about the meaning behind the surgical plan.

He just wanted to wallow in pain.

"Bang!"

Another violent impact.

This time, he fell particularly hard. A tearing pain shot through his old injury in his left leg, causing his vision to go black and cold sweat to instantly soak his back.

He huddled on the ice, his body trembling violently from the pain and cold.

He didn't want to get up.

He wanted to lie there like that until he froze to death, until he died from the pain.

The sound of light footsteps came from the edge of the ice rink.

Ling Wuwen walked over. She didn't reach out to help him up; she just stood there, looking down at him as if he were a piece of trash lying on the roadside.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, her tone as indifferent as if she were asking, "How's the weather today?"

Gu Xidong ignored her, only clenching his teeth and letting out a painful groan from his throat.

"If you feel pain, it means you're still alive." Ling Wuwen's voice remained icy. "If you find the pain unbearable, if you want to die, I can grant your wish right now."

She bent down, bringing her beautiful yet cold face close to his, her eyes flashing with a crazy, almost cruel light.

"How do you want to die? Do you want an ice blade to slit your throat? Or do you want this sub-zero ice to freeze your heart completely? Or, I can use that joint lock I taught you yesterday to completely dislocate your useless leg."

Her voice was low, carrying a bewitching magic:

"If you give up now, it will all be over. You will no longer have to endure the pain, no longer be tormented by me, and no longer have to face those past experiences that you dare not face."

Gu Xidong suddenly raised his head and looked at her in shock.

He thought he would see mockery, disgust, or even the slightest bit of pity.

But he saw nothing.

He saw only a pair of empty eyes, eyes that seemed capable of swallowing all light. In those eyes, there was no pity, only a kind of...longing.

She longed for him to give up.

She longed for him to die.

Or rather, she was yearning for... an even more devastating destruction.

"What? You don't dare?" Ling Wuwen straightened up, chuckled lightly, a laugh as piercing as shattered glass. "Indeed, how can someone who can't even bear this little pain dare to die?"

She turned away, no longer looking at him, leaving only a cold sentence:

"Get up. Or, just stay there forever."

3

I don't know how much time passed; maybe only a few minutes, maybe as long as a century.

Gu Xidong finally struggled and, supporting himself on the ice, slowly stood up.

His left leg was throbbing with pain, but he didn't fall again. Holding onto the board, he glided step by step, like a baby just learning to walk, to the edge of the ice rink.

He was soaked to the bone, shivering with cold, and his face was as pale as paper.

Ling Wuwen handed him a dry towel and a sports drink.

Gu Xidong didn't answer, but just stared intently at her.

"Why?" he asked, his voice filled with weariness and confusion. "What do you want from me?"

Ling Wuwen didn't answer. She simply picked up the sports drink, unscrewed the cap, and splashed it directly onto Gu Xidong's face.

The cold liquid flowed down his hair and cheeks, into his eyes, and brought a stinging sensation.

Gu Xidong was enraged by this sudden action, but he was too weak to resist.

"What do I want to get?" Ling Wuwen finally spoke, her voice trembling with a mixture of pain and pleasure that Gu Xidong couldn't understand. "What I want to get from you is what you are going through right now—pain."

She reached out and gently touched the injured part of Gu Xidong's left leg with her cold fingers.

Gu Xidong shuddered violently, not from pain, but from fear.

"Do you know?" Ling Wuwen's voice was very soft, as if he were talking to himself, "Pain has a scale. From 1 to 10. 1 is a mosquito bite, 10 is childbirth, or... amputation."

"Your past suffering is a badge of honor, a stepping stone to the top. It was a 10/10, magnificent suffering."

"What you are experiencing now is '1' point, the most basic, the most primal pain. It is falling down, it is hunger, it is cold, it is being domesticated like a dog."

She leaned close to his ear and whispered, "I like this pain. I need this pain. So, Gu Xidong, you must endure the pain. The more you suffer, the happier I will be."

After saying that, she withdrew her hand and turned to walk towards the exit of the ice rink.

"Take a 15-minute break. We'll continue in 15 minutes."

Gu Xidong stood there, his body soaked and cold, his mind blank.

As he watched her retreating figure, he felt a chill run down his spine for the first time.

He finally understood that this woman was more than just an avenger.

She is a... masochist.

She was satisfying her own morbid craving for pain by torturing him.

4

The training that followed turned into a silent and brutal tug-of-war.

Gu Xidong stopped deliberately falling. He didn't know why. Was it for the mystery of being "chosen"? Was it for the surgical plan? Or simply because he didn't want to see Ling Wuwen's eyes, which yearned for destruction, anymore?

He mechanically and numbly repeated every movement.

In his world, all that remained was the sound of ice skates cutting through the ice, the excruciating pain in his left leg, and Ling Wuwen's cold, emotionless commands.

"accelerate."

"Lower your center of gravity a little more."

"Use your left leg, don't be lazy."

"Let's do it one more time."

The concept of time becomes blurred in this extreme pain and exhaustion.

When Ling Wuwen finally said, "Today's training ends here," Gu Xidong felt like he was no longer himself. He collapsed onto the ice like a lump of mud, unable to even move a finger.

He didn't even have the strength to take a bath or eat.

Ling Wuwen dragged him off the ice, supported him, and took him back to that shabby basement apartment.

She threw him on the bed, treating him like a lifeless piece of merchandise.

Gu Xidong lay in bed, his body trembling uncontrollably from extreme exhaustion and muscle soreness. He thought he wouldn't be able to sleep. This level of physical pain usually resulted in a sleepless night and nightmares.

He would dream of the moment the "black swan event" occurred, of the blinding flashlights, of the deathly silence in the audience, and of his mentor's despairing face.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the nightmare to begin.

However, nothing happened.

His consciousness, like a heavy stone, plummeted straight into the boundless darkness.

There are no dreams.

There was nothing there.

There was only pure, utter darkness, as deep as this winter night.

This is the first time since he fell from grace and injured his left leg that he has not been plagued by nightmares.

For the first time, I slept so peacefully.

5

The basement door was gently pushed open.

Ling Wuwen walked in. She held a glass of water in her hand, stood by the bed, and quietly looked at the man sleeping soundly as if he were dead.

His face still bore traces of wet tears and sweat, but his expression held a long-lost, almost innocent calm.

Ling Wuwen reached out, seemingly wanting to help him wipe the dirt off his face.

But her hand remained suspended in mid-air and ultimately did not fall.

Her eyes were as complex as an impenetrable fog.

There is pain, there is pity, there is madness, and there is also a kind of... unfathomable tenderness.

She stood there for a long time, until the sky outside the window turned from pitch black to gray.

Suddenly, her phone, which was on the bedside table, vibrated.

It wasn't a ringtone, just a slight vibration.

Ling Wuwen's body tensed up instantly.

She picked up her phone, and the screen's light illuminated her face, which had turned deathly pale in an instant.

She glanced at Gu Xidong on the bed to make sure he wasn't awake, then, like a gust of wind, she quietly left the room and closed the door.

The living room in the basement was dimly lit.

She turned on her phone screen.

There were no incoming calls or text messages on the screen.

There was only one blurry surveillance screenshot that had just been received.

The screenshot shows the back of a man.

He stood outside the iron gate of the abandoned meat processing plant, wearing a gray trench coat and a hat pulled low, looking up at the iron gate that Ling Wuwen had kicked down.

Although he couldn't see the face clearly, the familiar, slightly hunched figure made Ling Wuwen's breath catch in his throat.

Immediately afterwards, a message popped up.

The sender's name is displayed as a simple code in the address book: [X].

The message contained only one short line:

"Xiao Feng, long time no see. I saw the 'rehabilitation plan' you made for west Dong. It's very well done. But don't forget our 'deal'."

Ling Wuwen stared intently at the line of text, his fingers digging deeply into the frame of the phone.

Her body began to tremble uncontrollably.

Fear, anger, and a hint of... panic at being watched.

She suddenly looked up and gazed out the window.

Outside the window, the sky was just beginning to lighten.

Through the gap in the tightly closed, heavy curtains, it seemed as if an eye was staring intently at everything in the basement through the cold glass.

The person who hides in the shadows and manipulates everything, he...

He had been watching them the whole time.