Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

Late at night.

In the single room of the rehabilitation center, the curtains were drawn tightly, blocking out the moonlight.

Only a small reading lamp by the bedside casts a dim, warm glow.

Ling Wuwen leaned against the headboard, a thin laptop on his lap.

The light from the screen illuminated his focused face. His eyes were fixed on the screen, and his right hand instinctively reached for the water glass next to him, but bumped into the hard plaster, making a slight thud.

He frowned, reluctantly withdrew his hand, but his gaze remained fixed on the screen.

The screen was displaying the contents of the USB drive left behind by Gu Xidong.

It's not some profound theory, nor is it dry technical analysis, but rather a series of classic pairs figure skating competition videos.

From the legendary duo of over a decade ago to today's top rivals active on the field, every one of their classic performances has been fully included.

Ling Wuwen was engrossed in watching.

He saw the Russian pair on the screen, spinning and leaping on the ice like two light feathers, every movement perfectly synchronized, as if they shared the same soul.

When the male partner lifts the female partner, his rock-solid lower body and the female partner's graceful, swallow-like figure in the air create a stunning scene.

"A lift is not just a display of strength, but also an act of trust." The narrator's excited voice came through the video.

"Look! The female partner's body is completely relaxed; she has handed over her weight to her partner without reservation!"

Ling Wuwen's heart skipped a beat.

Deliver without reservation...

In his mind, he uncontrollably imagined himself on the ice, and the moment his body stiffened and hesitated whenever Gu Xidong reached out to him.

He always subconsciously tightens his core, wanting to maintain balance with his own strength rather than completely "handing it over" to the other party.

It turns out he was wrong from the very beginning.

He always believed that pairs figure skating is a powerful combination of two individuals, a fusion of technique and art.

However, it overlooks the fact that its core essence is "unity".

The video continued playing.

The scene then shifts to a French duo whose performance is full of dramatic tension.

During a difficult twist, the female partner drew a perfect arc in the air, but stumbled slightly upon landing. The male partner steadily supported her waist, and the two smiled at each other. That moment of tacit understanding and support was more touching than any perfect movement.

Ling Wuwen's breath hitched.

He suddenly understood the true meaning of Gu Xidong's words during the day: "Without you as my 'base,' no matter how steadily I stand, I am still dancing alone."

What Gu Xidong needs is not a shadow that only follows in his footsteps, but a partner who can stand shoulder to shoulder with him, help him when he makes a mistake, and protect him when he takes flight.

He himself, however, has always been like a stubborn loner, trying to forge his own path within the framework of pairs figure skating.

He opened another folder, which contained their training videos from this period.

The footage is somewhat shaky, clearly taken casually with a mobile phone.

In the footage, he and Gu Xidong, dressed in simple training clothes, repeatedly tried basic footwork techniques on the ice.

Gu Xidong always patiently slowed down and adjusted his pace to accommodate him.

He, however, always had a slight frown on his brow, and his eyes held scrutiny and distrust.

In one scene, Gu Xidong tries to teach him a new spinning pose, placing his hand on his waist.

He clearly saw his body tense up instantly, and a fleeting look of resistance in his eyes.

Ling Wuwen raised his hand and pressed the pause button.

He stared at the rebellious version of himself on the screen and felt his face flush.

It turns out that his "disguise" was so easily shattered under the lens.

Gu Xidong's all-seeing eyes saw through all his pretense and evasion from the very beginning.

No wonder he was angry and disappointed.

Anyone would react the same way if faced with a partner who doesn't trust them at all.

He slammed his laptop shut in frustration, leaned back against the headboard, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

The ward was so quiet that only his own breathing could be heard.

The plaster cast on his wrist felt heavy and oppressive, like a heavy shackle that bound his body and his heart.

He remembered Gu Xidong's eyes, which seemed to glow on the ice, and the burning light in his eyes when Gu Xidong told him, "We'll win the championship together."

That brilliance should not be betrayed by one's own cowardice and foolishness.

2

"Knock knock knock".

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

Ling Wuwen subconsciously sat up straight, but before he could speak, the door was gently pushed open.

Gu Xidong stood at the doorway, holding a tray.

He seemed to have just come back from outside; his black down jacket still carried the chill of the outdoors, and his cheeks were slightly red from the cold wind.

Seeing that Ling Wuwen was still awake, he didn't seem surprised. He walked straight in and placed the tray on the bedside table.

"Not asleep?" he asked, taking off his down jacket and draping it over the back of the chair.

"I brought you some porridge; you didn't eat much tonight."

On the tray was a steaming bowl of congee with preserved egg and lean pork, and a small dish of pickles.

Ling Wuwen looked at the bowl of porridge, then at Gu Xidong, his throat tightening slightly: "Thank you."

Gu Xidong didn't say anything, but simply picked up a spoon, scooped up a spoonful of porridge, and handed it to him.

Ling Wuwen hesitated for a moment, then took a small sip from his hand.

The porridge was at just the right temperature, soft, sticky, and sweet. As it slid down my esophagus, warmth spread from my stomach, dispelling the chill of the night and the gloom in my heart.

"Finished watching?" Gu Xidong asked casually as he fed him.

"Hmm," Ling Wuwen mumbled in response.

"What are your thoughts?"

Ling Wuwen looked up at him. Gu Xidong's expression was calm, with a hint of inquiry in his eyes, but the coldness and mockery he had shown during the day were gone.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say that he understood, wanted to say that he was wrong, but those words turned into a more specific question.

"Gu Xidong," he asked softly.

"Why... is your axis of rotation so stable? No matter how I move it, it's like it's rooted to the spot, not moving an inch."

This was one of the biggest sources of confusion for him when he watched the video today.

Whether it's top athletes or Gu Xidong himself, their sense of stability on the ice seems to be innate.

Gu Xidong paused in his porridge-feeding motion, seemingly surprised that he would ask such a question.

He remained silent for a moment, blew on a spoonful of porridge to cool it down, and then slowly spoke.

"Because, at my feet are the people I want to protect."

His voice was soft, yet it was like a thunderclap, exploding in Ling Wuwen's mind.

"The male partner in pairs figure skating is both the 'base' and the 'captain.'" Gu Xidong's gaze fell on his wrist, which was in a cast, his eyes deep.

"Every time I push off the ice, every time I spin, I'm responsible for two people. If I fall, we both fall. So, I can't fall."

He raised his eyes, his gaze fixed intently on Ling Wuwen:

"And you, Ling Wuwen, you are my 'wings'. You can stretch out freely and fly freely, because you know that no matter how high or how far you fly, I will be there to support you steadily. Your safety and your balance are half in my hands."

Ling Wuwen's heart pounded violently. He had never considered the definition of pairs figure skating from this perspective before.

In his mind, he and Gu Xidong were equals, comrades-in-arms.

But they never imagined that there was such a relationship between them... almost one of "dependence" and "protection".

"I..." He opened his mouth, but his throat was so dry that he couldn't make a complete sound.

"You're always too independent," Gu Xidong interrupted him, a sigh in his voice that he himself didn't even realize.

"You're used to relying on yourself for everything, used to having everything under your control. So when you need to hand over a part of yourself to another person, you'll feel fear and resistance."

He put down the bowl of porridge, leaned forward slightly, placed his hands on his knees, and looked at Ling Wuwen at eye level.

This posture made him appear less intimidating and more sincere.

"No question, pairs skating is not a solo act. It requires two people to give a part of themselves to each other without reservation. You trust me and give me your center of gravity, and I trust you and give you my back. Only by entrusting ourselves to each other and achieving together can we create miracles on the ice that one person can never accomplish alone."

He reached out and gently placed his hand on Ling Wuwen's thick plaster cast.

The warmth of his palm seemed to penetrate the plaster and reach Ling Wuwen's skin.

"Try...trust me just this once." Gu Xidong's voice was low, carrying a seductive power.

"Give me your 'weight.' Let me be your base."

The ward was extremely quiet, so quiet that you could hear each other breathing and the occasional footsteps of people returning home at night outside the window.

3

Ling Wuwen looked at Gu Xidong, who was so close to him, at his eyes that seemed particularly deep under the light, and at the undisguised determination in his eyes to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.

At this moment, the high wall called "resistance" that stood between them seemed to have a tiny crack appearing.

He nodded slowly, very slowly.

"it is good."

A single word, as light as a feather, yet as heavy as a thousand pounds.

A dazzling light instantly shone in Gu Xidong's eyes, a light brighter than the moonlight outside the window and more dazzling than the luster of any trophy.

He didn't say anything more, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, forming a faint smile.

That wasn't the smile of a victor, but rather... a relieved and contented smile.

He withdrew his hand and picked up the bowl of porridge again: "Drink the porridge while it's hot, and get some rest. Tomorrow..." He paused, his voice carrying a long-lost, familiar gentleness, "Tomorrow, we'll start practicing 'trust'."

Ling Wuwen took the bowl of porridge and drank the rest in large gulps. The warm porridge dispelled the last trace of chill.

He watched as Gu Xidong packed his things, turned off the main light, leaving only a dim nightlight, then pulled over a chair and sat down beside his hospital bed.

"Aren't you... going back to sleep?" Ling Wuwen asked hesitantly.

"The bed here is big." Gu Xidong leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and said in a tired voice, "I'm going to take a nap. Call me if you need anything."

His breathing quickly became steady and long.

Ling Wuwen lay on the hospital bed, looking at the sleeping figure on the chair beside him.

Moonlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, casting dappled shadows on Gu Xidong's face. He slept soundly, his brow relaxed, the coldness and anxiety of the day gone.

Ling Wuwen's gaze slid from his eyebrows and eyes, over his high nose bridge, and finally landed on his tightly closed lips. His heart was calmer than ever before.

Tomorrow, we'll practice "trust".

He closed his eyes, and a slight smile unconsciously curved the corners of his mouth.

Perhaps, that crack really can be repaired.

Perhaps, they really can become each other's wings and foundation.

On that pristine white ice surface, their unique melody resounded.

The night is still long. But dawn seems to be just around the corner.