When Shaoqi saw him, he froze.
Through the wide glass windows of the rink, a lone figure was moving across the ice—smooth, effortless, and sharp as light glinting on a blade. Every motion flowed seamlessly into the next, not a single misstep or wasted breath.
Shaoqi didn't even realize he was holding his own.
He didn't know why he couldn't look away. Maybe it was the music that filled the air, or maybe it was him—the way he seemed almost untouchable in that moment. Calm. Precise. Beautiful in a way that words couldn't describe.
The name surfaced in his mind before he could stop it.Li Yuchen.
He had seen him on a screen before, but seeing him in real life was different. The air around him seemed to hum.
"Shaoqi!"
Coach Zhang's voice snapped him out of it. He blinked, quickly tearing his gaze away from the glass.
"Let's go," Coach Zhang said, gesturing toward the hallway. His tone softened. "And please… behave yourself. It's only for two weeks."
Shaoqi shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "Yeah, yeah. I got it."
Coach Zhang gave him a long, weary look—the kind of look that said he didn't believe a word of it—then started walking. Shaoqi followed behind him, their footsteps echoing softly through the marble hallway.
They were headed to meet the head of Aurora Edge, Coach Zhang's old friend, who had agreed to take Shaoqi in during his suspension.
As they walked, Shaoqi looked around.
The academy was nothing like he'd imagined.
Instead of the cold, empty feel of most sports facilities, this place felt… alive. The walls were lined with silver plaques and photographs of past champions. Greenery framed the hallways, their leaves dusted with a delicate layer of frost from the chill air. The architecture itself gleamed with clean, modern lines—simple but undeniably elegant.
It felt more like an art gallery than a school.
"Nice place," Shaoqi muttered under his breath. "Guess I'll try not to break anything."
Coach Zhang gave him a side glance. "That would be appreciated."
They turned a corner, passing by another glass wall that overlooked the rink. This time, Shaoqi forced himself not to look back. But even without seeing him, that image of Li Yuchen on the ice refused to leave his mind.
For reasons he didn't understand, it stayed with him—like a faint melody still ringing in his ears long after the music had stopped.
* * *
Coach Zhang and Shaoqi stopped in front of a large wooden door with a brass plaque that read:
Director Liu Chenghai — Head of Aurora Edge Academy.
Coach Zhang gave Shaoqi a short nod before knocking twice.
"Come in," came a calm voice from inside.
They entered.
The office was wide and neatly organized, sunlight spilling through tall windows that overlooked the glistening main rink. Trophies lined the shelves—each polished to perfection—and framed photos of smiling students decorated the walls. At the center sat a man behind a sleek mahogany desk, posture straight, expression kind yet authoritative.
He looked up and broke into a grin the moment he saw them.
"Zhang Wei!" Director Liu exclaimed, standing from his chair. "It's been so long! Look at you—you barely aged a day!"
Coach Zhang chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Really? You don't look too bad yourself. Might mistake you for a thirty-year-old."
Liu laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Flattery already, I see. Some things never change."
The two continued chatting, trading jokes and catching up as though years hadn't passed.
Meanwhile, Shaoqi stood awkwardly near the door, his hands shoved into his pockets. He glanced around the office, eyes tracing the trophies, the framed photos, the gold medals hanging along one wall. So this is what success looks like, he thought, half in awe, half in boredom.
Then Director Liu's gaze finally turned toward him.
"Ah," Liu said, smiling warmly, "and this must be Han Shaoqi."
Shaoqi straightened immediately. "Nice to meet you, sir."
Liu extended a hand, which Shaoqi accepted—firm, brief.
"I've heard everything," Liu continued, his tone gentle but deliberate. "But don't worry—I won't ask why you did what you did. I'm sure you have your reasons."
Shaoqi blinked, unsure how to respond. Most adults would have scolded him, lectured him, or worse. But this man… smiled. Calmly. Patiently. Like he already understood him without needing an explanation.
And that, somehow, felt even stranger.
"Don't look so tense," Liu said with a chuckle. "This isn't a punishment, Shaoqi. Think of it as… a chance. You've got skill, but you need to learn how to balance that fire of yours. Ice can't hold if it's constantly melting from anger."
Shaoqi's brows furrowed slightly. "Balance, huh…?"
"Exactly." Liu's smile deepened, then he gestured toward the window. "You'll start training tomorrow. For now, let me show you the rink."
Coach Zhang turned to Shaoqi. "This is where I leave you. Behave, alright?"
Shaoqi hesitated, then nodded. "…Yeah."
As Zhang Wei gave him a last pat on the shoulder and left, Shaoqi followed Director Liu down the hallway. The air felt colder here, quieter. Their footsteps echoed softly against the polished floor until they reached a large set of glass doors.
Beyond it lay the main rink.
The same one Shaoqi had glimpsed earlier through the window.
And there, gliding across the ice under the pale winter light—was him.
Li Yuchen.
This time, Shaoqi saw him up close.
Yuchen's expression was calm, eyes fixed ahead as he spun gracefully, the edges of his skates slicing through the ice with barely a sound. Each movement was measured, deliberate—controlled.
For a moment, Shaoqi forgot to breathe.
Director Liu paused beside him. "That's our top performer," he said quietly, pride clear in his voice. "Li Yuchen. He's been with us since he was a child. A natural talent—though he'll never admit it."
Shaoqi didn't reply. His gaze stayed locked on the skater.
He wasn't sure what he was feeling—admiration, annoyance, fascination. Maybe all three.
And for reasons he couldn't explain, one thought lingered in his mind as he watched the ice reflect Yuchen's form:
This place… might not be as boring as I thought.