Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

The cold air felt like tiny knives scraping against my skin.

On the ice rink of the abandoned factory, there was only Gu Xidong, surrounded by bottles scattered all over the ground.

He had just completed a set of difficult spins—a move he was proud of during his peak years, which has now become a tool for self-punishment.

A piercing pain shot through his left knee; the old injury was protesting. He groaned, lost his balance, and fell heavily onto the ice.

Ice shards mixed with bloodstains stained a small patch of ice red.

"What a mess."

A cold, clear female voice suddenly rang out in the empty factory.

Gu Xidong's pupils contracted sharply, and his body tensed instantly.

This abandoned factory was his absolute territory; apart from the lame old man who delivered supplies, no one could find it.

He struggled to prop himself up and looked in the direction of the sound.

A woman was standing at the edge of the ice rink, seemingly out of nowhere.

Wearing a beige long coat, her posture was as upright as a magnolia standing proudly in the cold wind. Her long hair was simply tied back, revealing her smooth forehead and her cool and beautiful face.

Holding an expensive black leather suitcase, she looked down at him, her eyes showing no surprise, no sympathy, not even a trace of the emotion one would expect from seeing a "living dead."

His eyes were as calm as a bottomless pool of still water.

"Who are you?" Gu Xidong's voice was as hoarse as sandpaper.

He didn't wipe the blood from his face; the red stain made his complexion appear even paler and his eyes even more sinister.

"Ling Wuwen," the woman said, her tone flat as if reciting an insignificant code name, "your new rehabilitation therapist."

"Get out."

Gu Xidong forced out three words through gritted teeth. He tried to stand up, bracing himself against the ice, but a sharp pain in his left leg caused him to fall back down. This clumsy movement made the veins on his forehead bulge.

"I don't need it."

"That's not up to you."

Ling Wuwen wasn't angry. She took a step, her high heels clicking as she walked down the steps of the stands. The crisp sound echoed in the empty ice rink, like a heavy hammer striking Gu Xidong's tense nerves.

She walked to the edge of the ice rink, but instead of coming up immediately, she took out a pair of professional ice skates from her suitcase and gracefully put them on.

I'll say it again.

Gu Xidong stared intently at her, his eyes filled with warning and violence.

"I don't need pity, much less charity. You're not welcome here."

Ling Wuwen put on his ice skates, stood up, and finally met his gaze.

Her gaze was peculiar—it held neither disdain nor curiosity, but rather a scrutinizing look.

It's like looking at a commodity being sold at a price, or a precision instrument that needs repair.

"Compassion and charity are for the weak."

She spoke softly, lifted her foot, and glided onto the ice, her movements as fluid as a swan searching for food.

"And you, Gu Xidong, do you consider yourself a weakling?"

These words were like a needle piercing Gu Xidong's most sensitive sore spot.

He is not weak. Even if he rots in the mud, his inherent pride will not allow him to admit it.

"Stop playing mind games with me."

Gu Xidong sneered, grabbed the half-finished vodka next to him, tilted his head back, and gulped down a large mouthful. The spicy liquid dripped down the corner of his mouth.

"I know my own legs. They're useless, just like me."

As he spoke, his eyes never left Ling Wuwen's face, trying to find a trace of wavering or disgust.

However, he was disappointed.

Ling Wuwen's face remained expressionless.

She didn't even flinch at his profanity. She simply glided quietly to his side, looked down at him, and then extended her hand.

"Get up. Let's begin our first rehabilitation session."

That hand was fair and slender, with neatly trimmed nails—clearly the hand of someone who had lived a life of luxury.

Gu Xidong stared at the hand as if he'd heard the biggest joke in the world. He grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, his smile both roguish and cruel:

"Rehabilitation training? Miss Ling, look closely. How can I train like this? Or do you want me to kneel on the ground and demonstrate how to crawl like a dog?"

As he spoke, he actually made a move to lie down on the ground.

2

Ling Wuwen's expression finally changed.

A ripple appeared in those stagnant eyes—but not with anger, but with disappointment?

"Gu Xidong," she withdrew her hand, her tone carrying a barely perceptible contempt, "Three years ago, your 'Burning Black Swan' spin on the track amazed the world. Everyone thought you did it to win, but I know you did it to win against yourself."

Gu Xidong's smile froze instantly.

"That spin was your challenge to the limits, your obsession with perfection."

Ling Wuwen continued, his voice low but each word piercing, "And now, you're here breaking bones, bleeding and oozing pus, just to prove you're completely rotten? This isn't something someone who has ever pushed their limits would do. The way you are now is cowardly."

"Shut up!"

Gu Xidong growled, a hint of panic flashing in his eyes.

Her words were like a scalpel, precisely dissecting his facade and revealing the cowardly soul within.

"Should I remind you?"

Ling Wuwen ignored his anger.

"The deadline for ISU wildcard applications is next month. That rival who once trampled you underfoot is now riding high, preparing to defend his title. And you, Gu Xidong, are you planning to rot in this ice cave until you become a dried-up corpse?"

"I told you to shut up!" Gu Xidong grabbed the wine bottle next to him and smashed it hard at her.

Ling Wuwen did not dodge.

The bottle shattered on the ice at her feet, shards of glass and brown liquid splashing everywhere, staining the hem of her expensive beige coat.

She seemed oblivious, remaining standing there, her eyes coldly fixed on him.

"Have you smashed enough?" she asked.

Gu Xidong was panting heavily, his chest heaving violently. He was like a trapped beast, writhing in impotent rage.

"Gu Xidong," Ling Wuwen squatted down, dipped his finger in the icy liquor, and sniffed it.

"Alcohol can only numb the nerves, but it can't numb ambition. Your eyes, even in the deepest darkness, are still fixed on that ice rink. You don't want to die; you're just waiting for an opportunity, a chance to pay back all the filth that's been thrown at you, with interest."

She stood up, took a step closer, looked him straight in the eye, and said, word by word, "And I am that opportunity."

Gu Xidong's heart clenched suddenly.

He had always assumed the woman was there out of curiosity, to offer charity, or to spy on him. But he was wrong.

She saw through not only his pretense, but also his ambition.

"Who exactly are you?" he asked again, his tone now more serious.

"Your therapist."

Ling Wuwen reverted to this identity; she no longer looked at him, turned, and skated towards the center of the ice rink.

"Now, get up. We'll begin our first training session. I'm going to check the range of motion in your left knee."

Gu Xidong sat on the ice, staring intently at her back. This was the first time he had ever felt such a strong urge to investigate someone.

He struggled to stand up, trying to brace himself against the ice with his hands. But the excruciating pain in his left leg made it impossible for him to get any support.

Ling Wuwen had his back to him, seemingly having no intention of helping.

Gu Xidong gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead. He grabbed a sharp ice pick and stabbed it into the ice, using the force to pull himself up.

He straightened up, and although his left leg trembled slightly, he stood firm.

"Very good." Ling Wuwen turned around and looked at his disheveled yet stubborn appearance, a fleeting and almost imperceptible hint of admiration flashing in his eyes. "Now, skate ten laps around the ice rink."

"What did you say?" Gu Xidong thought he had misheard.

"Ten laps," Ling Wuwen repeated. "A warm-up."

"Miss Ling, are you out of your mind?" Gu Xidong laughed angrily. "Look at me now, do you think I can skate ten laps?"

"Didn't you just finish a set of quadruple jumps?" Ling Wuwen retorted, his tone provocative. "Even though you failed to land, you still have the power from the jump. Gu Xidong, don't tell me you can't even do this much warm-up."

Gu Xidong stared intently at her, trying to find a trace of a joke on her face. But he found none.

He took a deep breath to suppress his anger and inexplicable excitement. He loved challenges, especially those that were nearly impossible to complete.

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth, "I hope you won't regret it later."

3

He held onto the side railing of the ice rink and began to glide slowly.

I stumbled and almost fell several times on the first lap.

The second lap was slightly smoother.

The third lap...

By the fifth lap, he was able to maintain his balance with difficulty. Although his movements were still stiff, his speed had increased.

Ling Wuwen stood in the center of the ice rink, watching him glide past again and again, his eyes calm.

When Gu Xidong wobbled and stopped after completing his tenth lap, he was covered in sweat, his face was as pale as paper, and he was panting heavily. The pain in his left leg made it almost impossible for him to stand.

He thought he had finally accomplished the impossible task and would earn even the slightest bit of the woman's approval.

However, Ling Wuwen simply stepped forward and placed a hand on his left knee.

"Ah!" Gu Xidong let out a piercing scream, a pain as if his bones were being crushed. He instinctively threw a punch at Ling Wuwen's face.

He thought she would avoid him.

But she didn't.

The fist stopped abruptly less than a centimeter from her nose. The violent force of the punch whipped her bangs.

Ling Wuwen didn't even blink.

She continued to press on his knee, her fingers pressing hard on the kneecap to feel the ligaments and bones inside.

"You have a torn meniscus and your ligaments are also strained to varying degrees."

She stated an objective fact, her tone devoid of any pity.

"Furthermore, have you been frequently using ice picks to stimulate the nerves in your legs lately? This self-harming 'rehabilitation' does nothing but make the nerves more sensitive and increase the pain."

Gu Xidong looked at the face so close to his own, and that cold and beautiful face was now showing a hint of... excitement?

Yes, I'm excited.

Her beautiful almond-shaped eyes shone with an almost fanatical light, as if she were pressing not on a person's knee but on a rare treasure, a perfect work of art awaiting restoration.

"You're crazy..." Gu Xidong murmured.

"Same to you."

Ling Wuwen released his grip and took a step back, a cold smile curving his lips. "Gu Xidong, since you don't want to be the weakling, then let's do something interesting."

She opened her black leather suitcase and took out an acupuncture kit.

"Next, I will use acupuncture to stimulate acupoints to help repair your damaged ligaments."

As she spoke, she skillfully removed a thin, long silver needle, saying, "It might hurt a little, but bear with it."

"Are you a rehabilitation therapist or a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner?" Gu Xidong asked, looking shocked.

"An all-rounder." Ling Wuwen replied calmly, his hands moving without hesitation as he precisely inserted silver needles into the acupoints around the man's knee.

A tingling, numb, and throbbing pain instantly spread throughout Gu Xidong's entire left leg.

"Now," Ling Wuwen looked at Gu Xidong, who was grimacing in pain, and his cold smile widened.

"Let's talk about my terms."

"What are the conditions?" Gu Xidong asked through gritted teeth.

"I want you," Ling Wuwen said, looking directly into his eyes, "to teach me pairs skating."

"What did you say?" Gu Xidong thought he was hallucinating because of the pain.

"I want you to teach me pairs skating," Ling Wuwen repeated, his eyes resolute. "I want you to be my partner."

Gu Xidong was stunned.

He had considered that this woman was approaching him for fame, fortune, or to torment him. But he never expected that her purpose would be this.

Why should this "useless person" teach a woman with zero experience to skate pairs?

This is even more absurd than asking him to win the world championship right now!

"Do you know what you're saying?" Gu Xidong said as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world.

"Me? A cripple who can't even stand up straight? Teaching you pairs skating? Miss Ling, do you have some kind of misunderstanding about the term 'pairs skating'?"

"I didn't misunderstand."

Ling Wuwen's tone was unusually calm.

"I've watched all your competition videos. I know your technical characteristics, your strengths, and your weaknesses. I know that if you're willing, you can train me to be a qualified pairs skater."

"On what grounds?" Gu Xidong sneered, "On your few crazy words?"

"Based on this." Ling Wuwen took a photo out of his coat pocket and handed it to Gu Xidong.

The photo is a bit old; it shows two young boys standing arm in arm by the ice rink, smiling broadly.

One of them was Gu Xidong when he was young.

The other one is his best friend, and also another protagonist in the "black swan event" back then, Ling Wufeng.

Gu Xidong's breath caught in his throat.

3

He stared intently at the photograph, his fingers turning white from the pressure. It was the deepest secret buried in his heart, the root of his pain, and the driving force behind his revenge.

"He is my brother," Ling Wuwen's voice rang out, calm and undisturbed.

Gu Xidong suddenly looked up at her in disbelief.

Ling Wufeng, the genius boy who died saving him, is actually this woman's brother?

So she approached him...

"You don't need to look at me like that," Ling Wuwen met his gaze, his eyes filled with a chilling coldness, devoid of hatred. "I'm not here for revenge."

She paused, a cold, vengeful smile curving her lips.

"I'm here to take you to hell to find the real killers."

Gu Xidong's heart began to pound violently at that moment.

He always thought of himself as a hunter and a chess player.

Only at this moment did he realize that he and she were just pawns.

And the one who orchestrated this whole scheme from behind the scenes was her.

The woman he thought was there to give him charity and pity, the "uninvited guest" he thought had a simple background, turned out to be his best friend's long-lost sister, and the most unexpected... ally on his path of revenge?

This reversal shocked him more than anything else.

As Ling Wuwen watched him become speechless with shock, his cold smile grew even brighter.

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

"Gu Xidong, welcome to my game. Now, will you still refuse my 'charity'?"

Gu Xidong looked at the face so close to his own, and saw that the beautiful almond-shaped eyes were now burning with the same kind of madness as his own.

He laughed suddenly.

It was a low, hoarse laugh coming from deep in his throat, carrying a hint of relief, a hint of excitement, and a hint of... the ecstasy of finding one's kind.

"Alright." He looked at her with a mixture of aggression and amusement in his eyes. "Miss Ling, since you're so eager to play, I'll play along."

He reached out not to hold her hand, but to gently wipe a speck of dust from her cheek with his blood-stained fingers.

"However, I will set the rules of the game."

"Okay." Ling Wuwen didn't avoid her gaze, meeting it head-on. "But the final victor can only be me."

The two stared at each other in the snow-covered landscape, the air thick with the smells of blood, alcohol, and a dangerous aura called "ambition."

A game about revenge, redemption, and rebirth officially begins at this moment.