Chapter 5

Though Jiu Sheng’s words just now were spoken softly, they resonated like thunder, each syllable weighted with significance.

The statement might have seemed flippant, almost like a joke, but time would prove that Jiu Sheng was far from someone who merely spouted empty words.

His declaration would be etched onto the blade of a sword, bearing witness to the countless drops of sweat he would shed.

As he uttered those words, Jiu Sheng’s entire body tingled with excitement—so much so that even attempting another 3A now wouldn’t be enough to calm his racing heart.

Moreover, the mere thought of his words becoming reality sent every cell in his body surging with exhilaration.

Upon hearing Jiu Sheng’s declaration, Xu Zhou—whose blood had run cold for over a decade—suddenly felt it ignite, his heart pounding violently as his limbs stretched wide.

He had seen Anton Lie before, but even the current world No. 1 Russian men’s singles skater, in his youth, had never exuded the same aura as Jiu Sheng did now.

Xu Zhou’s heartbeat grew increasingly frantic, threatening to burst from his chest and leap out of his body.

Xu Zhou laughed louder than ever.

“HAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

His laughter filled the entire training rink, drawing bewildered stares from everyone else on the ice.

Xu Zhou laughed for a long time, only stopping when his face ached from the effort.

Gazing at the brash yet extraordinarily gifted boy before him, he gently patted Jiu Sheng’s shoulder.

“Come to the Figure Skating Provincial Team after school tomorrow. We start training then.”

Jiu Sheng nodded. “Got it.”

Xu Zhou continued, “From today onward, I am your figure skating coach.”

With those words, he made one thing unequivocally clear: Jiu Sheng had been admitted to the provincial team.

Normally, joining the provincial team was a tedious process. One had to first enter a sports school, then pass evaluations to advance to the city team, and finally undergo further assessments to qualify for the provincial team—all within specific timeframes. It was anything but straightforward.

But for a prodigy, these hurdles meant nothing—especially in a discipline as talent-scarce as figure skating.

Xu Zhou crouched beside Jiu Sheng, gripping his foot. “As your coach, the first lesson I’ll teach you is to avoid unnecessary injuries.”

He began tending to Jiu Sheng’s wounds. “Athletes have one of the highest injury rates of any profession. Every year, countless retire due to physical setbacks. Injuries are an athlete’s greatest nemesis—many endure relentless pain, forced to quit at their peak, their potential forever unfulfilled.”

Xu Zhou sighed ruefully. “Figure skaters have short careers, especially women. By their mid-twenties, they’re already considered veterans.”

After stopping the bleeding, he added, “So remember this: cherish your body. Minimize injuries on the ice, and never attempt jumps beyond your limits like you did today.”

Jiu Sheng raised a hand slightly, his eyes narrowing as he replied offhandedly, “Yeah, got it. I’ll be careful.”

But whether he truly took it to heart, no one could say.

After Xu Zhou finished treating Jiu Sheng’s wounds and chatted with him for a while, he left.

Once the pain in his injuries had dulled somewhat, Jiu Sheng also limped away, clutching his used figure skates. His mind was still fixated on the exhilarating jump from earlier, so when he returned home, he didn’t notice that the doorknob had been tampered with.

It wasn’t until he stepped inside that he realized three people had arrived—or rather, three people had returned. The original host’s older brother and parents had finally come back.

Hah. How amusing.

Luo Ming Qiu, Jiu Sheng’s mother, was overjoyed to see him and immediately pulled him into a hug. “Xiao Sheng, it’s been so long! Come, let me see if you’ve lost any weight.”

Jiu Wen Sang, Jiu Sheng’s father, stood stiffly to the side, his face dark with anger. “What does it matter if a useless brat who can’t even skate properly has lost weight? Absolutely worthless. Why can’t you learn from your brother, Jiu Li? He’s the top junior skater in the country. If it weren’t for his leg injury keeping him from competing, how could that Japanese skater, Miyazaki Hirano, have taken the podium at the Figure Skating Grand Prix first?”

Jiu Wen Sang was furious about the matter, even itching to storm over to Japan and beat Miyazaki Hirano up himself.

Jiu Li, hailed as the future hope of China’s figure skating world, didn’t refute his father’s words. His gaze was icy as he stared at the television, as though the newly arrived Jiu Sheng were nothing more than trash—or perhaps, in his mind, even less than that.

This was the first time Jiu Sheng had seen his fraternal twin brother, Jiu Li, in person. His eyes lingered on Jiu Li’s face for a moment. At first glance, their features were similar, but upon closer inspection, the differences were stark.

Jiu Li’s eyes carried a faint chill, unlike Jiu Sheng’s, which always burned with fierce determination. Jiu Li’s short hair gave him a more heroic air, while Jiu Sheng’s slightly longer locks lent him a softer beauty. Yet when that delicate appearance clashed with the arrogance in his eyes and demeanor, the contradictory contrast made Jiu Sheng strikingly captivating.

Luo Ming Qiu seemed oblivious to the tension. Tying an apron around her waist, she turned to Jiu Li, who was seated on the sofa, and asked, “Xiao Li, what would you like for dinner tonight?”

Figure skaters had strict weight and physique requirements, so Luo Ming Qiu had honed her cooking skills to ensure Jiu Li ate well.

Jiu Li replied, “I want braised pork ribs with potatoes.”

Luo Ming Qiu hesitated slightly. “Braised pork ribs with potatoes? That’s quite fattening.”

Jiu Wen Sang waved a hand dismissively. “Let Xiao Li have it. His injury just healed—he deserves a good meal.”

Luo Ming Qiu relented. “Alright then.”

It wasn’t until she had nearly finished preparing the dish that she remembered Jiu Sheng still standing to the side. She quickly lowered her voice and asked, “Xiao Sheng, what would you like to eat?”

“Crispy fried pork.”

It was the original host’s favorite dish.

Before Luo Ming Qiu could respond, Jiu Sheng was immediately scolded by Jiu Wen Sang. “Such greasy food! All you ever think about is eating. Why can’t you focus on practicing figure skating properly?”

Jiu Sheng couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

The difference in treatment between him and Jiu Li couldn’t have been more extreme.

Now, Jiu Sheng understood a little better why the original host had chosen to end his life.

Jiu Wen Sang scolded Jiu Sheng again, and Luo Ming Qiu quickly intervened, “Oh dear, stop yelling at Xiao Sheng. He’s actually working very hard, but not everyone is born with talent.”

Jiu Li shifted slightly, masking the blatant satisfaction in his eyes.

Luo Ming Qiu took Jiu Sheng’s hand and said, “Doesn’t Xiao Sheng just want some crispy pork? I’ll make it for him.”

However, when Jiu Sheng sat down at the dining table, he found no crispy pork—only steaming hot potato and rib stew.

Luo Ming Qiu picked up a rib with her chopsticks and placed it in Jiu Li’s bowl. “Xiao Li, this is the potato and rib stew you wanted. Eat it while it’s hot.”

Jiu Sheng sat at the table for a long time without touching his chopsticks. No one noticed the missing crispy pork on the table.

From the original host’s memories, Jiu Sheng knew this had happened more than once.

On the surface, their seemingly gentle and fair mother was actually biased. But unlike Jiu Wen Sang, who openly berated him, she was skilled at disguising her favoritism. Outwardly, she treated the original host well, but inwardly, she wielded an invisible knife, stabbing him repeatedly and leaving countless unseen scars.

In Jiu Sheng’s memories, these scars were filled with pain and resentment—helplessness and confusion that could only be licked silently in the dead of night.

Sometimes, a soft blade was more lethal than outright insults. If she didn’t like him, the pretense was truly nauseating.

The original host often wondered: Why, despite being their child, was he treated so differently just because of minor differences? He had tried so hard, and his talent wasn’t lacking—he just couldn’t showcase it properly.

At the table, the other three laughed and chatted about Jiu Li’s figure skating, the atmosphere warm and harmonious.

An invisible line separated Jiu Sheng from them. Even if he leaned closer, the line would shift, keeping him apart.

Suddenly, Jiu Wen Sang noticed the silent Jiu Sheng and barked at him, “You blockhead! Where are your manners? Can’t you see your brother has just recovered from his injury? Go pour him some hot water and bring his medicine!”

Hearing this, Jiu Li narrowed his eyes, clearly relishing the moment. Even when Jiu Sheng didn’t move immediately, he wasn’t in a hurry—just leisurely waiting for Jiu Sheng to fetch the medicine.

“What are you waiting for? Your brother trains hard every day, while you do nothing all day. Why are you still sitting there?!”

Jiu Sheng didn’t respond. Instead, he suddenly picked up his chopsticks and took a huge bite of the ribs specially made for Jiu Li, chewing with exaggerated relish.

He didn’t stop there. The other three watched in stunned silence as Jiu Sheng devoured one rib after another, eventually finishing the entire plate—leaving only a few potatoes behind.

Jiu Sheng sighed inwardly.

Training would start tomorrow, so today was his last chance to indulge. Naturally, he ate as much as he could.

After finishing, he picked his teeth and said to the other three, “Go on, eat! Why aren’t you eating? It’s pretty good.” He scratched his head. “Ah, sorry—seems like I ate it all. Forgot to leave any for you.”

Jiu Wen Sang was so furious that he resembled a bull panting heavily, his aged face covered in wrinkles: “Jiu Sheng, what do you mean by this?! These ribs were specially made for your brother, and you ate them all!”

Jiu Sheng shrugged: “That’s why I already apologized earlier.”

Jiu Sheng stood up and raised an eyebrow at Jiu Li: “Really sorry, I’m full now. Seems you’ll have to pour your own water.”

Jiu Li stared at Jiu Sheng as if seeing a ghost, completely baffled by his sudden change in behavior.

In the past, Jiu Sheng wouldn’t have dared to utter a single word of protest about anything they asked him to do!

Jiu Li: “Jiu Sheng, stop right there!”

Jiu Sheng didn’t even pause.

Jiu Wen Sang was truly enraged now: “Luo Ming Qiu, this is the fine son you gave birth to—not only failing to inherit any of the family’s outstanding genes but also becoming willful and shameless.”

Standing on the stairs, Jiu Sheng lifted his head mockingly: “And what counts as having shame? Pouring water obediently for your precious eldest son, my dear brother?”

Now that he had transmigrated into the original host’s body, he absolutely refused to suffer any grievances.

Jiu Wen Sang was left speechless by Jiu Sheng’s retort and flew into a rage: “What kind of nonsense are you spouting? What’s wrong with pouring water for your brother? Isn’t that your duty? He’s the men’s singles skater most likely to stand on the international podium for China!”

Jiu Sheng chuckled lightly: “Just standing on the podium?”

Jiu Li couldn’t take it anymore and dropped his facade: “What do you mean by that? You can’t even glide properly—are you suggesting you could win the championship instead?”

Jiu Li’s tone was contemptuous; on the ice, he had every reason to look down on Jiu Sheng.

But to his surprise, Jiu Sheng gave a soft laugh and slowly descended the stairs.

He walked up to Jiu Li and met his gaze.

Jiu Li faltered, suddenly realizing that the Jiu Sheng he’d always looked down upon was actually taller than him—and not by just a centimeter or two.

Jiu Sheng moved his lips slightly and said: “I can.”

Jiu Li’s pupils constricted.

Jiu Sheng leaned in close, looking down at Jiu Li as if appraising a failed product.

The corners of his lips curled, and the loose strands of hair tucked behind his ears fell forward, radiating overwhelming pressure: “Of course I can win the gold medal.”

At least—before you do.