Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

The air in the abandoned ice rink was filled with a strange stench of blood and hormones.

Ever since Ling Wuwen uttered the name "Ling Qingya" that day, the atmosphere between the two of them has changed.

It's no longer just a tense standoff, nor is it simply a master-disciple rivalry.

It was something more complex, more viscous, and more suffocating.

Gu Xidong sat on a bench by the ice rink, slowly drying his hair with a dry towel in his hand. His gaze occasionally drifted to Ling Wuwen, who was adjusting the sound system not far away.

She had her back to him.

He looked at her slender waist and recalled the feeling of his palm when he lifted her up that day; he looked at the faint scar on the back of her neck and recalled her amazing swallow-like balance when she fell.

Ling Qingya.

The prodigy girl whose ankle he "broke" at the World Youth Championships.

He did indeed accidentally injure an opponent at the World Junior Championships five years ago due to a misjudged jump. That was the first and only time in his career that he caused someone to suffer a serious injury because of his own mistake.

The girl collapsed in a pool of blood and was carried out on a stretcher.

But he remembered that the girl's name was... Ling Qingya?

Memories seem shrouded in mist, impossible to grasp.

Gu Xidong suddenly felt irritated.

He stood up, walked to the center of the ice rink, and in front of her, ripped open the elastic band of his athletic pants, then abruptly took off his shirt.

The icy air instantly enveloped his bare upper body, raising goosebumps.

He had a great physique, sculpted by years of exercise, with well-defined abs and a broad chest. However, there was a gruesome scar on his left side, a result of an old injury.

He walked up to Ling Wuwen, picked up his water bottle, and deliberately couldn't open the lid.

"Turn it on for me." He handed over the kettle, his voice slightly hoarse and deliberately lowered.

Ling Wuwen was looking at the training data on the tablet, and without looking up, said, "Twist it yourself."

"It slipped." Gu Xidong insisted, pushing the kettle forward even further, his whole body almost touching hers.

He could clearly see her long eyelashes trembling slightly.

She didn't dodge.

Gu Xidong became bolder.

He put down the kettle, then braced his hands against the wall behind her, encircling her in his arms.

He lowered his head, his nose almost touching the stray hairs beside her ear.

His breath, warm and gentle, brushed against her fair neck.

"Coach Ling," he said softly, in what he considered his most charming and languid tone, "shall we take a ten-minute break?"

2

Gu Xidong has absolute confidence in his charm.

At his peak, he was a darling of major fashion magazines and the dream lover of countless young girls. His captivating eyes, with just a slight lift, could make hearts flutter.

He didn't believe that this woman could be immune.

He thought he would see her blush, see her panic, see her avoidance of eye contact, and even see her push him away in anger and embarrassment.

Regardless of her reaction, it shows that she cares and that she is wavering.

As long as she cares, he has a chance.

He could break through her cold, hard exterior and glimpse the secrets deep within her heart.

However, he was disappointed.

Ling Wuwen didn't even lift his eyelids once from beginning to end.

She kept staring at the tablet in her hand, her fingers sliding across the screen, as if the person he was holding in his arms was just a lifeless wooden stake.

"Gu Xidong," she finally spoke, her tone as calm as if stating an objective fact, "your current body fat percentage is 12%, your testosterone level is low, your heart rate is too fast, and your breathing rate is irregular."

She paused, looked up, and through the tablet screen, coldly gazed at Gu Xidong, who was standing right in front of her.

"Your broken body holds no appeal for me."

These words, like a knife chilled to the bone, pierced precisely into Gu Xidong's pride.

The smile on his face froze instantly.

3

"You..." Gu Xidong was furious and embarrassed, and wanted to say something harsh to save face.

But Ling Wuwen didn't give him a chance.

She suddenly reached out a hand and placed it on his chest.

Her hands were cold, and the calluses on her palms rubbed against his warm skin, creating a strange sensation.

She didn't push him; she simply patted his chest gently with her cold hand.

"Stop with your seductive tricks." She looked at him, her eyes filled with pity and disgust. "You think that's what I care about? You think I'm some kind of brainless fan who's been fooled by your looks?"

She suddenly moved closer, her cold and beautiful face less than ten centimeters away from his.

"You look like a peacock desperately displaying its plumage during mating season, only to have its feathers fall out. It's disgusting, there's no beauty in it at all."

Gu Xidong's face flushed red and then turned pale.

He felt like a clown jumping around.

Just as he was filled with shame and indignation and was preparing to retreat.

He saw Ling Wuwen take something out of the pocket of his training pants with his other hand.

It was an ice pick with an extremely sharp tip, used for repairing ice skates.

Under the lights, the tips of the icicles gleamed with a cold light.

Gu Xidong's heart leaped into his throat.

Before he could react, Ling Wuwen's hand moved.

Instead of aiming for his vital points, she flicked her wrist, and the ice spike, accompanied by a gust of cold wind, drew a line across his chest from left to right.

4

"hiss--!"

A sharp, stabbing pain came.

Gu Xidong jumped back abruptly, clutching his chest.

He looked down.

A bloodstain about ten centimeters long appeared on his fair chest. Fresh blood was slowly seeping from the shallow wound, like a winding little snake.

Not deep.

It's just a scratch.

But this is the ultimate humiliation.

"Are you crazy?!" He looked at her, his voice a mixture of shock and anger.

Ling Wuwen acted as if he had done something insignificant.

She toyed with the ice pick in her hand, watching him retreat in panic, a cold smile curving her lips.

"Let's test your reaction speed," she said calmly. "The result is terrible. When faced with real danger, your instinctive reaction is to use your body to seduce, not to use your brain to fight."

She walked up to him, stretched out her finger, and touched a little of the blood flowing from his chest.

She stared at the glaring red on her fingertip, her eyes remaining completely unmoved.

"Gu Xidong, do you think that as long as you're handsome, you can be forgiven for your mistakes? That a few tears can wash away your past sins?"

She pressed her blood-stained finger to his lips.

Warm, rusty blood stained his lips.

"Stop with your useless tricks." She looked at him and said, word by word, "I'm not interested in your appearance. I'm even less interested in your tears."

"What interests me is whether you can get back on the ice and become a true warrior."

"Instead of a coward who only uses his body to gain pity..."

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

"Take care of the wound. Training will continue in ten minutes."

"Today's training program is reaction speed training."

She turned around, glanced at Gu Xidong who was still standing there, bloodstains on his lips, and a cruel smile curled at the corner of her mouth.

"I will use this ice pick to help you regain... your lost wildness."

5

Gu Xidong stood there, his whole body ice-cold.

He watched her walk towards the ice rink, her back still straight and cold, like an emotionless statue.

But just now, he saw a smile on the corner of her mouth.

That wasn't a normal smile.

It was a... bloody, twisted smile, seemingly a mixture of extreme pain and pleasure.

He suddenly realized that this woman's hatred wasn't just directed at him.

She also seemed to harbor a morbid, destructive hatred for herself.

He subconsciously touched the wound on his chest.

The stinging sensation brought him back to his senses.

He is not a coward.

Never has been.

He looked at his disheveled self in the mirror, bloodied and battered, then glanced at Lin Wuwen on the ice rink, waiting for his prey.

An unprecedented feeling, a mixture of anger, humiliation, and a strange excitement, welled up in his heart.

He grabbed a T-shirt and casually put it on, covering the scars on his chest.

Then, he walked towards the ice rink.

His eyes changed.

It's no longer the confusion, frustration, and attempts to please that I had before.

It was a fierce, aggressive gaze, like that of a wild beast, utterly enraged.

He slid up to her, said nothing, and just stared at her coldly.

Ling Wuwen seemed quite pleased with his gaze.

She picked up the ice pick and weighed it in her hand.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

Gu Xidong did not answer.

He was simply adopting a defensive stance.

The next second, Ling Wuwen moved.

She wasn't wearing ice skates, but her speed was astonishing. Like a cheetah, she glided across the ice, the ice pick in her hand gleaming coldly, aiming straight for his face!

Gu Xidong suddenly leaned back.

The icicle grazed the tip of his nose.

He could even feel the sharp, strong wind.

He didn't back down; instead, in the instant he leaned back, he suddenly stretched out his foot and hooked it towards her ankle!

Ling Wuwen dodged it with a swift movement.

The two engaged in a bizarre chase on the ice.

There were no words, only heavy breathing and the whistling of ice skates cutting through the air.

Suddenly, Ling Wuwen made a feint and circled behind Gu Xidong.

The ice pick in her hand was pressed against the back of his neck.

"He's dead."

She whispered in his ear.

Gu Xidong's body froze instantly.

He could feel the biting cold from the tip of the icicle.

But just then, he heard a very soft, suppressed sob.

The voice came from Ling Wuwen behind him.

He turned around abruptly.

He saw that Ling Wuwen was biting her lower lip tightly, and the ice pick was still trembling slightly in her hand.

Her eyes had become red at some point.

She didn't cry.

But her eyes were filled with tears.

It wasn't out of fear, nor out of anger.

It was a kind of... cathartic, almost insane sadness.

She looked at him, and that blood-stained smile returned to her lips.

"Gu Xidong," she said softly, a trembling laugh in her voice, "Do you know? Seeing you in so much pain, I really want to..."

She leaned close to his ear and whispered the rest of the sentence in a voice only the two of them could hear:

I wish I could die in your place.