Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

The only sound in the ward was the hum of the ventilation ducts.

Gu Xidong stood frozen in place.

The pain in my left knee felt distant; only Wang Zhenhua's words echoed in my ears.

Brainwashing program.

"What procedure?" Ling Wuwen's voice was tense.

Wang Zhenhua pointed to his temple: "Here. They touched this."

Old Gun had moved to the door as a guard. Mouse quickly scanned the room and whispered, "We have to go, it's not safe."

"You've finished speaking." Gu Xidong didn't move. "Who moved it?"

Wang Zhenhua looked at him, then suddenly smiled in a twisted way:

"You hit the railing when you fell, remember? You had a concussion and were in a coma for forty-eight hours. How much do you remember after you woke up?"

Gu Xidong remembers the cold light on the ice, the uncontrolled spinning, and then the darkness.

When he woke up, his head was throbbing with pain, and Ling Wuwen stayed by his bedside.

"The doctor said it's memory impairment," Ling Wu asked.

"It wasn't an accident," Wang Zhenhua shook his head.

"It was planned. The surgery was at 2 a.m., and the surgeon's surname was Li, who was my son's classmate."

Gu Xidong broke out in a cold sweat.

"They performed minimally invasive surgery to implant something," Wang Zhenhua said, drawing circles in the air.

"It's very small and adheres to the meninges. It releases electrical signals to interfere with memories—especially memories of the club."

Why?

"Because you saw something you shouldn't have seen." Wang Zhenhua lay back down, staring at the ceiling.

"The night before the final, you went for extra practice and saw Zhou Wentao and Chen Guodong backstage, along with a third person. That person was—"

He suddenly stopped, his eyes widened, and his breathing became rapid.

"Who is it?"

Wang Zhenhua began to tremble, clutching his head: "I don't remember... I don't remember..."

The mouse examines the medicine bottle: "Clazapine mixed with anxiolytics. High doses can cause cognitive impairment and memory confusion."

"He's being controlled." Old Gun turned around. "Someone doesn't want him to say anything more."

Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Old Gun gestured for silence. The footsteps paused outside the door for a few seconds, then faded away.

"I have to go." Mouse closed the laptop. "The pipes can no longer be used."

"And him?" Ling Wu asked.

Gu Xidong looked at Wang Zhenhua, who was curled up on the bed.

"I can't take it with me," the old gunman said calmly.

"The target is too big, and the situation isn't suitable for movement. If they wanted to silence him, they would have done so already. Keeping him alive means he either has a purpose, or he only knows a limited amount."

Gu Xidong glanced at Wang Zhenhua one last time: "Let's go."

As Gu Xidong returned to the ventilation duct, those words replayed in his mind: implant. Brainwashing program. Modified memories.

It turns out that those nightmares and flashbacks weren't just illusions.

2

Back at the safe house, it was already dawn.

Gu Xidong removed the gauze from his left knee. The wound was red, swollen, and festering. He mechanically disinfected and bandaged it.

Ling Wuwen handed him some water: "Do you believe me?"

"I don't know," Gu Xidong said honestly, "but if it's true... what has been real about me these past three years?"

Mouse clicks on the keyboard:

"I checked your medical records from back then. The surgery did indeed take place between 2:17 AM and 3:40 AM. The surgeon was Li Zhenhua, the deputy director of neurosurgery. The diagnosis is listed as 'minimally invasive cranial decompression and hematoma evacuation'."

Is this reasonable?

"That makes sense. But the surgical record doesn't mention the implant. Of course, even if it were there, it wouldn't be written down."

"Can you test it?"

"We need a high-resolution MRI. But even if it's detected, how can we prove it was implanted three years ago? The other party could claim it was a legitimate treatment received later."

Old Gun distributes compressed biscuits: "Eat first, then think about the next step."

Gu Xidong chewed on the biscuit, finding it tasteless.

Sunlight seeped in through the gaps in the ventilation ducts.

"If what Wang Zhenhua said is true," he said slowly.

"How much did Ling Wufeng know? Did he die because he knew too much, or was he trying to tell me something?"

"The list," Ling Wu asked.

"The list that Ling Wufeng risked his life for missed the most crucial name—Wang Zhenhua's son. Why?"

"To protect you?" the mouse guessed. "If you've been brainwashed, knowing the truth might trigger a reaction?"

"Or," Old Gun leaned against the wall.

"That doctor wasn't the core figure, just a tool. Wang Zhenhua was too. The real figures behind the scenes are much deeper."

Just then, the mouse clicked – a new message in the encrypted channel. Sender's codename: "Ice Shard".

"A new friend has arrived." The mouse clicked on the message: "An underground support organization, composed of the families of victimized athletes and retired athletes. They contacted us."

The on-screen text was brief: 【We've reviewed the materials. We have more. Would you like to meet?】

Address and time: 3 PM, Warehouse No. 3, Chengxi Secondhand Market.

"It might be a trap," Ling Wuwen said.

"It could be a turning point." Gu Xidong stared at the words. "The risk is greater if they deliberately expose themselves."

Old Gun checked the time: "Seven in the morning. Eight hours to prepare."

They began to plan. Old Gun went to scout the location, the mouse tracked online traces, and Gu Xidong and Ling Wuwen organized the evidence.

At noon, Lao Qiang reported: "The secondhand market is chaotic. Warehouse No. 3 is at the very back, near the river, and has a back door. It's surrounded by piles of discarded furniture, making it easy for people to hide and for ambushes to take place."

"Are there any suspicious persons?"

"Nothing was found. But there are at least four surveillance cameras in the market, and their locations are professional, unlike ordinary security."

The mouse has made progress: "'Ice Shards' has existed for at least five years. Its online activity is covert, mainly on dark web forums. It has about twenty or thirty members, with the core being several parents of victims. You might recognize one of them—Coach Zheng's wife, Liu Xuemei."

Gu Xidong remembered that woman. She didn't cry at the funeral; she just stared intently at the portrait.

I'll go this afternoon.

"Together." Ling Wuwen pressed his hand down. "Old Gun provides perimeter support, Mouse provides ranged support."

They set off at 2:30 p.m.

3

The secondhand market is located in an abandoned industrial area in the west of the city, with rusty corrugated iron roofs. The air is filled with the smells of mildew and rust.

Warehouse No. 3 is at the end, a red brick building with its side door ajar.

Gu Xidong pushed open the door and went in.

The warehouse was filled with old furniture and dimly lit. A figure stood by the window, backlit.

"Gu Xidong?" The woman was middle-aged.

"I am."

The person turned around—it was Liu Xuemei. Her temples were completely white, and her eyes were sharp.

"My husband mentioned you. He said you were the most talented and stubborn student he had ever taught."

Gu Xidong choked up.

"Coach Zheng, he..."

"It wasn't suicide," Liu Xuemei interrupted.

"I know. Your files contain his bank statements from the week before his death—200,000 yuan in deposits from a shell company. The police said it was 'bribery,' but I know it was hush money. He refused, so he died."

Ling Wuwen looked around warily: "Just you?"

"There are two more outside," Liu Xuemei said frankly, "my son and daughter. We need to make sure it's not a trap."

"So are we."

Liu Xuemei gave a bitter smile:

"Let's get straight to the point. 'Ice Chips' has seventeen families, twenty-three people. We have evidence, testimonies, and the flow of funds. But we need a platform—a platform where everyone can hear us."

"Do you want to go public?"

"No, I want to fight back." A fire blazed in Liu Xuemei's eyes.

"Next Sunday at 8 PM, the sports channel will broadcast 'Face to Face with Champions' live, with guest Chen Guodong. It has the highest viewership, with at least 30 million viewers nationwide."

Gu Xidong understood: "You want to expose him during the live broadcast."

"We have recordings of him accepting bribes, screenshots of emails about manipulating matches, and photos of his meetings," Liu Xuemei said, taking out a USB drive.

"But that's not enough. We need a witness—a witness from inside."

"Zhou Wentao is in custody, that's impossible."

"No." Liu Xuemei looked at Gu Xidong, "We need you."

The warehouse fell silent. The distant sounds of a bustling market drifted in.

"I only have oral accounts, no empirical evidence."

"You're injured." Liu Xuemei looked at his left knee.

"A three-year career without competition, post-concussion syndrome, altered memories—these are all evidence. And you still have us."

She pointed to a corner of the warehouse, where a young man and woman emerged.

"My son is Zheng Hao, and my daughter is Zheng Yu. Hao is a programmer, responsible for cybersecurity. Yu is a sports reporter."

Zheng Hao nodded shyly. Zheng Yu stepped forward: "The director of 'Face to Face with Champions' is my classmate. I can arrange for you to enter the venue as 'mystery audience members' for a Q&A session."

"It's too risky," Ling Wuwen said. "The security at the live broadcast site is tight; Chen Guodong must have made preparations."

"So we have a Plan B." Zheng Yu took out a tablet. "If we can't act on-site, we'll release the evidence online simultaneously with the broadcast of the show. But that would reduce the effectiveness."

Gu Xidong pondered.

The live broadcast exposed Chen Guodong's true intentions, leading to a complete breakdown in his power. The forces behind Chen Guodong will not stand idly by, and all those involved will face danger.

But if no action is taken, the evidence may never see the light of day. The longer it drags on, the greater the chance that the evidence will be destroyed.

"I need to see the evidence."

Liu Xuemei nodded. Zheng Hao brought over his laptop and inserted the USB drive.

The screen displays a list of files: recordings, photos, emails, transfer records, medical reports... spanning more than ten years.

Gu Xidong clicked on a recording.

The background was noisy, but Chen Guodong's voice could be heard: "...That kid has to withdraw from the competition. By whatever means necessary. Money is not an issue."

The date was March 12, 2014—just three days before the figure skaters' food poisoning incident.

Another email, sent from Chen Guodong's private email address and to an overseas account: "...Agreement reached. Result guaranteed. Final payment to be made after the match."

The attachment is the athlete's medical examination report, which includes allergy history.

Gu Xidong read through the pages, his hands trembling slightly.

This isn't just a cover-up; it's a complete criminal system. Every step, from selection to the competition, has been infiltrated.

Is that enough?

Gu Xidong shut down his computer and took a deep breath: "When will the program be recorded?"

"The live stream will be on Sunday night. You can enter at 7:30 PM, and it will start at 8:00 PM," Zheng Yu said. "You can sit in the third row. The Q&A session will be around 8:40 PM, and each person will have two minutes."

"Two minutes is not enough."

"It needs to be refined," Ling Wuwen continued, "hitting the nail on the head. Ideally, it should have a visual impact."

She looked at Gu Xidong's left knee.

Gu Xidong slowly rolled up his trouser leg, revealing his bandaged knee: "Is this enough?"

The gauze showed signs of bleeding, and the surrounding area was red and swollen.

Liu Xuemei's eyes reddened: "Child, are you sure? Once you start, there's no turning back."

"There's no going back now, it's been three years." Gu Xidong pulled down his trouser leg. "I only have one condition—no matter what happens, protect Ling Wuwen and my teammates. They are outsiders."

"Aren't you an outsider?" Zheng Hao asked.

Gu Xidong shook his head: "From the moment I stepped onto the ice rink for the finals, I was no longer one."

The plan was set: Gu Xidong and Ling Wuwen would enter the live broadcast venue on Sunday night. Lao Qiang and Huashu would provide support from the outside. The Ice Shards organization would launch a simultaneous cyber offensive.

If things get out of control, Old Gun will lead them to safety.

As she was leaving, Liu Xuemei called out to Gu Xidong.

She took off the pendant from her neck and opened it, revealing a small photo of Coach Zheng. "Old Zheng often said that skating is about moving forward towards the light. Even if there are shadows under the ice, you have to keep skating forward until you leave the shadows behind."

She placed the pendant in Gu Xidong's palm: "Wear this. Just pretend... he's here too."

Gu Xidong gripped the pendant tightly; the metal edge was rough on his hand.

On the way back to the safe house, no one spoke.

In the evening, Wu Rui reported that lawyer Zhou Wentao had applied for bail pending trial, citing "deteriorating health." The court is currently hearing the case.

"He figured it out," Ling Wuwen concluded.

"Someone might want him out," Gu Xidong said. "It's easier to silence him outside."

4

Sunday night, the calm before the storm.

Gu Xidong practiced every word he was going to say over and over again in the safe house. The pain in his left knee became the background noise.

Ling Wuwen inspected the equipment: a miniature voice recorder, a hidden camera, and an alarm.

Old Gun cleaned his weapon—this time a real gun. His expression was serious: "If things go wrong, I will shoot. You must evacuate immediately."

The mouse was hovering over a dozen surveillance screens.

They set off at six o'clock in the evening.

The television station building was brightly lit.

A huge poster titled "Face to Face with Champions" hangs at the main entrance, featuring a smiling photo of Chen Guodong with the title: "From Champion to Coach - The Inheritance of the Spirit of Sports".

Gu Xidong looked at that face, and his stomach churned.

Zheng Yu waited at the side door, handing over her work ID: "Follow me, don't say a word."

They walked through the corridor into the studio. The audience was mostly seated, mostly young people, holding up signs supporting Chen Guodong.

The third row had two empty seats. Gu Xidong and Ling Wuwen sat down.

Under the spotlight in the center of the stage, two red sofas faced each other. A large screen played highlights of Chen Guodong's athletic career: his early competitions, moments of victory, and his students' awards after he became a coach…

Everything was glamorous and dazzling.

At 7:50, the host entered the venue. At 8:00 sharp, the music started, and Chen Guodong walked out from backstage, dressed in a sharp suit and with a polite smile.

There was thunderous applause.

Gu Xidong clenched his fist, his nails digging into his palm.

The interview began. When asked about his coaching philosophy, he spoke candidly: "The most important things in sports are fairness, impartiality, and transparency. We aim to cultivate not only athletes, but also responsible citizens..."

Gu Xidong listened and found it absurd.

At 8:35, the audience Q&A session will begin.

The first question was about training methods. The second was about youth development. The third—

Zheng Yu raised her hand and took the microphone.

She stood up, her voice clear: "Coach Chen, I have a problem with sportsmanship. If a coach is willing to harm athletes or even manipulate matches for the sake of victory, do you think such a person deserves to be called a sportsman?"

The scene fell silent for a moment.

Chen Guodong's smile froze, but he quickly recovered: "Of course not. The core of sportsmanship is integrity. If there really is such a person, he should be expelled from the sports world forever."

"What if that person is you?"

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

The host tried to interrupt: "This audience member—"

Zheng Yu held up the tablet, screen facing outwards. It displayed evidence: transfer records, emails, photos…

"In March 2014, you paid 3 yuan to instruct someone to drug you. In July 2016, you accepted bribes from overseas casinos to manipulate matches. From 2018 to the present, you have laundered over 7 million yuan through shell companies. Do you intend to continue?"

Security guards rushed in from both sides.

But Zheng Yu's voice, amplified through the microphone, resonated throughout the venue: "This evidence is being released simultaneously across the entire internet! Chen Guodong, you can't escape!"

The scene was chaotic.

The audience gasped, and some people took out their phones to film. Chen Guodong's face turned ashen, and he stood up to leave.

At this moment, Gu Xidong stood up.

He took the microphone from Zheng Yu and walked step by step onto the stage.

The spotlight shone on him. Every step sent a sharp pain through his left knee. But he didn't stop.

"Coach Chen," Gu Xidong's voice came through the speakers, eerily calm, "Do you remember me?"

Chen Guodong stared at him, his eyes shifting from confusion to shock to fear.

"Three years ago, at the National Figure Skating Championships finals." Gu Xidong was already at the edge of the stage.

"I did a quadruple toe loop, and my skate broke on landing, causing me to hit the railing. The doctor said it was an accident. But you know it wasn't."

He rolled up his left trouser leg, revealing his knee, which was wrapped in gauze.

"Inside, there are seventeen pieces of bone, two steel nails, post-concussion syndrome, and..." He paused.

"The implanted chip was used to erase the truth I saw."

The camera was pointed at him. Millions of viewers across the country were watching.

"That night, I saw you backstage. Not just you, but also Zhou Wentao, and a third person."

Gu Xidong stared at Chen Guodong. "Who was that person? Who ordered you to switch my skates? Who gave you the power to ruin an athlete's career?"

Chen Guodong took a step back and bumped into the sofa.

The host was stunned.

The control room should have cut off the signal, but the large screen on site was still working, magnifying Gu Xidong's face, showing his scars, gauze, and the flames in his eyes.

"Say something!" someone in the audience shouted.

More people are saying: "Tell the truth!"

Chen Guodong's lips trembled. He looked towards the backstage area, as if searching for something.

At that moment, Gu Xidong saw a person standing in the shadows on the side of the stage.

He was wearing a hat, so his face wasn't visible, but he made a gesture.

Chen Guodong saw the gesture and suddenly laughed.

His smile was both manic and desperate.

He grabbed the mineral water bottle on the table, unscrewed it, but didn't drink it.

"You want to know the truth?" Chen Guodong's voice was hoarse. "The truth is, this industry is rotten to the core! Rotten from the very roots! Me? I'm just a gofer! The real big fish—"

Gunshots rang out.

Not one sound, but two.

The first shot: blood burst open in Chen Guodong's chest. The second shot: from the side of the stage—the man wearing a hat was shot in the temple and fell.

Screams erupted as people fled.

Gu Xidong was tackled to the ground by Ling Wuwen. Old Gun rushed out from the back of the audience, raising his gun in a guard position.

In the chaos, Gu Xidong saw Chen Guodong lying on the ground, his eyes still open and his mouth moving, but he was silent.

Blood spread across the floor.

On the side of the stage, the person wearing the hat was no longer moving. The hat had fallen to the side, revealing a face that Gu Xidong had never seen before.

But at the very last moment, those eyes turned to Gu Xidong.

There was a strange...relief in his eyes.

Then, all the lights went out.