Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

Under the spotlight, the five faces were as white as paper.

In the second row of the judges' panel, the French representative's fingers were frozen on the edge of the tablet; the American representative's Adam's apple bobbed; the Japanese representative repeatedly wiped his glasses; the Russian representative rested his hands on his forehead; and the Canadian representative leaned back in his chair.

They stared intently at Gu Xidong in the center of the ice rink—at the black microphone in his hand that reflected a cold light.

The silence lasted for three seconds.

In the fourth second, referee Chen Guodong suddenly stood up, the chair leg scraping against the ground with a screeching sound.

"Security! Take him away!"

He screamed into the microphone, his voice blasting.

All four doors opened simultaneously, and security guards in black rushed out from the four corners of the ice rink, their skates scraping up ice fragments as they surrounded the black figure in the center.

Inside the private room, Ye Shen picked up the communicator:

"Disconnect the microphone cable! Now!"

"The line has been rerouted! The other party is using military-grade encryption; forcibly cutting it off will trigger—"

"Shut him up!" Ye Shen growled.

On the ice rink, the security captain rushed within five meters and reached for the stun gun with his right hand.

Gu Xidong raised the microphone.

"Afraid to answer?" The voice was as calm as an ice blade slicing across the skin.

"Then I'll answer for you."

He pulled out a miniature projector with his left hand, and shone blue light onto the electronic screen above the referee's bench.

Screen transition—bank statement scanned document appears:

Xinghai Sports Consulting Company – Overseas Account Transaction Details

First page, third line: Chen Guodong.

Time: Seven days after the accident three years ago. Amount: 500,000 euros. Recipient: Chief Referee Ivan Petrovich.

Note: "Technical report revision service fee".

The audience erupted in uproar.

Page 2: The World Championships bidding period two years ago.

$800,000 went to referees from France, the United States, and Japan. Note: "Event evaluation and consultation service fee".

Page 3: The month in which Gu Xidong's comeback application was rejected a year ago.

€300,000 was deposited into the Canadian referee's account. Note: "Athlete performance evaluation fee".

The security captain lunged to within three meters and pulled out a stun gun.

Gu Xidong stepped aside, bringing the microphone close to his lips:

"Chen Guodong, through twelve offshore companies, paid 4.7 million euros to seven judges. The timing of the payments coincided with seven key rulings, including—"

With a loud crackling sound, his voice cut through the electrical noise: "—The final draft of the investigation report on my partner's death three years ago."

The stun gun was used to stab him in the side.

A hand wearing a tactical glove suddenly grabbed the security captain's wrist and twisted it in the opposite direction.

With a cracking sound, the stun gun slipped from his hand and slid far away.

The person who arrived was wearing an ice rink maintenance jumpsuit with the brim of his hat pulled low.

He unzipped his jacket, revealing a silver crystal armband on his left arm, and a holographic badge lit up in his palm—the United Nations Office for International Oversight of Sports Ethics.

"Step back." The voice was calm and steady.

"Gu Xidong is protected by the provisional immunity under the Convention on the Protection of Sports Integrity. Obstructing the submission of evidence constitutes an impediment to justice."

The security guard staggered backward.

Inside the private room, Ye Shen stared at the man—codename "Frostblade," a former Interpol commander, now belonging to "Ice Shards."

He whispered the order: "Initiate the clearing process. Target all, regardless of cost."

On the ice rink, Gu Xidong turned to the last page of the logbook:

Project code name: Black Ice.

Budget: 20 million euros. Objective: To control 70% of the voting power on the ISU Technical Committee.

Signature of person in charge: Chen Guodong.

The second name—

The beam of light moved toward the private room, condensing into a spot of light on the floor-to-ceiling glass, illuminating Ye Shen's figure behind it.

"Mr. Ye Shen," Gu Xidong said.

"The controlling shareholder of Xinghai Company, the funder of the Black Ice project, and the 'specially invited technical advisor' at the accident site three years ago. Do you need an explanation?"

All eyes were on the private room.

Ye stood silently for three seconds, then smiled.

He turned on the microphone in the private room, his voice gentle yet helpless:

"Mr. Gu, I admire your courage. But a lie is still a lie."

He walked to the glass, spread his hands, and said, "Please look at the big screen."

The screen switches to a medical diagnostic report:

Gu Xidong – Clinical Assessment of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Conclusion: The patient exhibits severe reality distortion symptoms and firmly believes the accident was a conspiracy. Long-term treatment is recommended; returning to the field is not advised.

The audience fell silent.

Ye Shen sighed:

"The tragedy three years ago was heartbreaking. The accident investigation was completed jointly by multiple parties, and the conclusion was clear. Mr. Gu's inability to accept it is a normal reaction after trauma. We sympathized with him, so we granted him a wildcard... But we never expected that the trauma would distort his cognition to this extent—falsifying transaction records, framing the referee, and even dragging me into his delusions."

He looked at Gu Xidong with pity in his eyes, "It's time for him to receive treatment."

Whispers spread: "Mental illness?" "Is the evidence fabricated?"

Security guards surrounded them again.

"Frostblade" whispered: "The chain of evidence needs to be synchronized to Interpol's server in three minutes. Hang in there."

Ye Shen ordered, "Security, escort the patient away."

Eight men pounced on them.

Frostblade drew its gun but did not fire.

The ice surface cracked.

2

The spiderweb-like cracks exploded outwards from Gu Xidong, with a crisp sound like glass shattering.

The structure groaned beneath the ice, the concrete and steel beams twisting and rattling.

The security guard stopped in shock.

Screams erupted from the audience as the crowd surged toward the exit.

Inside the private room, Ye Shen's expression changed drastically:

"Who initiated the sabotage program?!"

"It wasn't us! A higher frequency signal has overloaded the refrigeration pipes, suspected to be a military-grade electromagnetic pulse!"

Ye Shen suddenly looked towards the control room window.

Ling Wuwen stood behind the glass, his left hand pressing the control panel, his right hand holding the black remote control. His lips moved silently:

Evidence backup complete.

She pressed the button.

The center of the ice rink collapsed, and Gu Xidong fell three meters down onto the equipment platform with the broken ice.

"Frostblade" followed closely by jumping down.

The crack above swallowed the front edge of the referee's stand, and Chen Guodong collapsed with the stand, his thigh pierced by a steel bar, and he screamed in agony while suspended in mid-air.

The audience was in complete chaos.

Ye Shen stared at the ruins—Gu Xidong had disappeared into the maze of pipes.

"Block all exits! Deploy drones for reconnaissance!" he roared, switching channels as he turned to leave.

The door to the private room opened.

Three Interpol officers stood at the entrance, the one in the lead showing his badge:

"Mr. Ye Shen, we have received evidence that you are suspected of bribery, match-fixing, and negligent homicide. Please cooperate with the investigation."

Ye Shen smiled: "Did the evidence come from that mentally ill patient with a prior record of document forgery?"

"The doctor who signed the diagnostic report three years ago has had his license revoked for accepting bribes and falsifying data. All his reports have been classified as suspicious documents."

Her smile froze.

Ye Shen reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket—the instant he touched a gun, keys, and a remote control, the young detective chopped off his wrist with a karate chop.

The weapon fell to the ground, and the remote control was kicked away.

"We know all your backup plans." The investigator picked up the items. "Including the secret passage, the sprinkler system, and the six-man team in the parking lot. Please."

Ye Shen was led away from the private room. As he walked down the corridor, his heels lightly tapped the floor three times.

Short, long, short.

Morse code: S.

Signal sent.

3

Underground pipeline layer.

Gu Xidong leaned against the support, and "Frostblade" injected hemostatic gel into his left knee.

The joints were swollen to twice their normal size, with patches of subcutaneous bruising.

"Can you walk?"

"He can climb. What about Ling Wuwen?"

"The control room is locked down; she's safe. Raven has arranged for us to get to the parking lot via the maintenance driveway."

Gu Xidong gritted his teeth and stood up, but his left leg was weak.

"Frostblade" held him in place, moving him along the edge of the pipe. Broken cables twisted all around, dripping water was constant, and the barking of police dogs could be heard in the distance.

Turn the corner and you'll see an iron gate with the sign "Equipment Room B-7".

"Behind the door is a maintenance well, and the parking lot is twenty meters down." "Frostblade" swipes his card.

The moment the door opened, Gu Xidong smelled a cloying, chemical odor: "Wait—"

It's too late.

Behind the door was an empty concrete room with only one overhead light.

The three men stood in the center—the first being Andrei Sokolov, the head of the accident investigation team three years ago and now the vice president of the ISU Technical Committee. Two of them were carrying tranquilizer guns.

"Good evening, Mr. Gu," Sokolov said with a smile.

"Mr. Ye asked me to send his regards. He said the game is not over yet."

The gun barrel was raised.

"Frostblade" was unable to draw his spear in time, and was struck in the chest and neck by two darts, collapsing to the ground in defeat.

Gu Xidong staggered backward as the third dart pierced his shoulder. A cold, numbing sensation swept through his vision.

In the blur, Sokolov took the projector from his hand.

"The evidence backup has been synced with Interpol, but we've retrieved the original documents," he gestured to his subordinates.

"Take them to the 'White Room.' Mr. Ye needs to observe Gu Xidong's...neurotic reactions in despair."

Darkness engulfed consciousness.

In the final moment, Ling Wuwen's shout came from deep within the pipe.

Call him by his name.

Gradually fading away, gradually fading away.