Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

The icy air, like liquid nitrogen, flowed directly into my lungs through my trachea, carrying a rusty, sweet smell.

Gu Xidong lay on the ice, feeling as if his internal organs had shifted.

Ling Wuwen's kick just now was merciless.

In that instant, he even heard the faint sound of his knee cartilage dislocating.

The intense pain made his vision go black, and cold sweat instantly soaked through his thin clothes.

He was like a fish thrown ashore, mouth agape, breathing in vain.

"Cough...cough cough..."

A metallic taste rose in his throat, and he couldn't hold back, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ice in front of him.

That splash of red stood out starkly against the pale white ice.

"you……"

Gu Xidong struggled to lift his head, his voice hoarse like a broken bellows, "You fucking want to cripple me?"

He expected to see a cold, aloof face, or a pair of mocking eyes.

However, no.

2

Ling Wuwen stood beside him, slightly bent over.

She ignored the pain on his face, her gaze fixed on his bruised left leg, and her eyes held a strange...

It was with an almost fanatical excitement and anticipation.

That look in his eyes was like that of a traveler who was dying of thirst in the desert and finally saw an oasis.

"Move," she commanded, her voice trembling slightly with excitement.

"I'll mess with your ancestors..."

Gu Xidong was halfway through his rant when he suddenly froze.

Because he discovered that the excruciating pain was subsiding at an incredible speed.

Instead, there is a kind of... hemp.

A tingling, electric-like sensation that surges from the depths of one's bones.

The tingling sensation traveled up his thigh and all the way to his toes.

He could even clearly feel that his left leg, which had been dormant for three years, was awakening one by one, the atrophied muscle fibers, like parched land welcoming long-awaited rain.

That's impossible.

That's absolutely impossible.

Over the past three years, he has tried countless treatments and consulted the world's top experts, and the conclusions he has received have all been:

Nerve damage is irreversible, and ligament adhesions cannot be repaired.

He has accepted the fact that he is a useless person.

But now, what is this long-lost, vibrant "feeling"?

3

"I'll let you move."

Ling Wuwen's voice rang out again. This time, she squatted down and reached out to grab his ankle.

Her hands were cold, but Gu Xidong felt a burning heat coming from her palms.

He hesitated for a moment, then tried to activate the muscles in his left leg.

The excruciating pain did not return.

Instead, a faint but real force surged from his groin, traveled down his calves, and finally converged at his ankle.

His toes twitched slightly inside his skates.

Although it was only a barely perceptible moment, Gu Xidong felt as if he had completed an action that took an entire century.

He suddenly raised his head and looked at Ling Wuwen in disbelief.

"This...this is an illusion?" he murmured to himself, his voice filled with uncertainty.

"Don't you know in your heart whether it's a hallucination or not?"

A cold smile curved Ling Wuwen's lips. She released his ankle, stood up, and looked down at him.

"Gu Xidong, you're a coward. You're afraid of hope, so you'd rather believe it's an illusion."

"Shut up!" Gu Xidong growled.

He struggled, using his hands to support himself on the ice, trying to stand up.

This time, he didn't grab the barrier next to him, nor did he take the ice pick he was using as a cane.

He stood up, swaying slightly, entirely on his own.

Although my left leg was still trembling slightly, the feeling of weight supporting my body was real.

He really stood up.

Moreover, it uses two legs.

4

Gu Xidong looked down at his left leg, his eyes filled with shock, ecstasy, and a deep sense of fear.

He was afraid it really was a dream.

He was even more afraid that the dream was given to him by the woman in front of him.

"What did you do to me?" He looked up, staring intently at Ling Wuwen, his eyes filled with wariness.

Why?

"I told you, I'm repairing a piece of 'scrap'."

Ling Wuwen walked up to him, reached out, and gently patted his left knee, the movement as tender as if he were caressing a rare treasure.

"Your body is more honest than I thought. It still remembers how to exert force; it's just that your mind has forgotten it."

Her words were like a slap in the face, striking Gu Xidong hard across the cheek.

Yes, he forgot.

It's not that he can't skate, it's that he's afraid to skate.

He was afraid of falling again, afraid of facing failure again, and afraid of seeing those people's mocking eyes again.

Therefore, he would rather rot in the mud.

5

"I don't need your pity."

Gu Xidong gritted his teeth and stubbornly insisted. He had to maintain his last shred of dignity and couldn't let her see his inner wavering.

"Pity?" Ling Wuwen seemed to have heard the funniest joke in the world.

She smiled.

It was a low, hoarse laugh that came from deep in the throat, tinged with a hint of desolation and madness.

"Gu Xidong, put away your ridiculous pride. Let me tell you, I, Ling Wuwen, have no pity for anyone."

She suddenly stepped forward, closing in on him, her beautiful almond-shaped eyes burning with a fierce flame.

"The reason I saved you is not because you are Gu Xidong, not because you were once the 'Black Swan'."

"I am because..."

She paused, a fleeting, almost imperceptible pain flashing in her eyes.

"I need a suitable pawn to carry out a ritual of revenge."

"And you, Gu Xidong, you happen to be the most suitable one."

"So don't talk to me about pity, and don't talk to me about gratitude."

"Between us, there is only transaction."

After she finished speaking, she turned and walked to the edge of the ice rink, picking up her coat.

"That's all for today," she said without turning her head. "Tomorrow, I'll bring a new training plan. Gu Xidong, what I hope to see tomorrow is not a coward who just lies on the ice bleeding, but a... true warrior."

6

Gu Xidong stood there, watching her departing figure, motionless for a long time.

The ice rink doors were closed, shutting out the cold wind from outside.

He was the only one left in the entire space, surrounded by a mess.

He looked down at his left leg and tried to kick it gently.

There was no pain.

Only power.

A force that is slowly recovering.

He suddenly felt that it was all utterly absurd.

He hated for three years, resented for three years, and tormented himself for three years.

As a result, a woman who appeared out of nowhere kicked him in the knee and told him: You're not crippled.

What is this?

Was God playing a huge joke on him?

Or is it that this woman truly possesses extraordinary abilities?

Gu Xidong's gaze involuntarily drifted to the black ice blade box in the corner.

How many secrets are still hidden in that box?

He slowly walked to the edge of the ice rink, held onto the barrier, and sat down.

He took off his ice skates and rolled up the left leg of his trousers.

On his knee, the thick callus that had formed from years of wear and tear had now cracked open with a tiny fissure.

A drop of bright red blood was slowly seeping out from the crack.

Gu Xidong reached out and dipped his fingertip into the drop of blood.

He held it to his nose and sniffed it.

It tastes like rust.

It smells like blood.

It's also... the taste of being alive.

He stared at the crimson dot on his fingertip, his eyes gleaming.

Just then, a gust of cold wind blew through and opened a broken window high up on the ice rink.

A crumpled piece of paper drifted in on the wind and landed right at his feet.

Gu Xidong glanced down.

It was an old newspaper that had been torn into pieces and then carefully pasted back together.

The headline of the newspaper was a huge photograph.

The photo shows the scene of the "black swan event" three years ago.

On the wrecked ice, two figures lay entangled together.

One of them was him.

The other one is Ling Wufeng.

In the corner of the photo, there is a human figure blurred by the lens.

The figure was standing at the edge of the ice rink, holding a walkie-talkie in his hand, with a smile that seemed to indicate a... successful conspiracy on his face.

Gu Xidong's pupils suddenly contracted.

That figure...

He slowly bent down, his fingers trembling, and gently touched the face of the figure in the newspaper.

His breathing stopped completely at that moment.

He recognized the figure.

That is……