Chapter 12

The entire ice rink fell into a brief silence after witnessing this scene. Many people's gaze towards Gāo Yìmín shifted—everyone knew he was Yàn Xī's sparring partner, possessing good stamina and responsible for assisting and protecting Yàn Xī. Coach Yàn had no intention of letting him compete.

The reason was simple: Coach Yàn had said that Gāo Yìmín was not cut out for figure skating. No one had ever doubted the coach's words; in terms of coaching achievements alone, Father Yan's skill as a coach was beyond question. The number of gold medals and competitive results produced under his guidance surpassed the previous peak data of Berghed ever recorded.

Coach Yàn's evaluations of his team members were once considered absolute truths. When he declared a young team member lacked talent and could only be a sparring partner, then that was precisely their fate. But…

could a poor kid who wasn't cut out for figure skating, merely destined to be Yàn Xī's follower, perform a triple Axel, known for its difficulty? Even if it wasn't on the competition ice, appearing to be largely due to luck, with only a few shaky steps before stabilizing, it was still a genuine triple Axel. A forward triple-and-a-half jump from an outside edge of the left foot, with a difficulty coefficient and visual impact that soared simultaneously, capable of stunning both the discerning insiders and the casual onlookers.

The ability to perform it once theoretically opened the possibility of performing it a second time—after all, this was the junior division, all skaters were under thirteen years old, and their physical development was far from complete. A junior skater with the potential to perform a triple Axel… assigned as Yàn Xī's sparring partner?

Many were half-shocked and half-doubting; more were pondering their own thoughts, and they all turned their gazes towards Yàn Xī, who was not far away, being filmed by the production crew demonstrating his footwork. Yàn Xī also saw this scene. Away from the camera's gaze, his expression instantly turned cold, almost to the point of confronting them directly, but Mother Yan firmly held his shoulder.

"Yàn Xī," Mother Yan whispered, "you should go congratulate him." Yàn Xī struggled forcefully but couldn't break free from his mother's restraint. Yàn Xī stared at Gāo Yìmín, who was still somewhat dazed, "I should congratulate him?"

"Who told him to jump?" Yàn Xī asked, one question after another. "Why did he practice in secret behind my back?

Why wasn't he confined?" Yàn Xī questioned, "He lied to me, why didn't my father expel him?" Mother Yan took a deep breath, lowered her head, and warned her son, "You can't target him.

Yàn Xī, this is a live broadcast; it will cause your father to lose his job." "Behave yourself," Mother Yan said. "You dislike getting low scores, don't you?"

Yàn Xī did indeed detest receiving low scores, and he fell silent, no longer speaking. Mother Yan: "We're filming a show… don't throw a tantrum."

Her last sentence was controlled, her tone softening. As a bestselling author of parenting books who frequently appeared on shows, Mother Yan knew very well how to soothe a child's emotions. Yet, even so, when she lowered her head and met the venomous hatred in Yàn Xī's eyes, she couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine.

Innate antisocial personality disorder, impossible to guide or correct later. Utilitarian and indifferent, extremely biased, with obvious violent tendencies, and extremely low tolerance for frustration. ...

Mother Yan had published a whole series of books detailing her experiences in educating her son and sharing her early childhood education insights. That was her breakthrough work. Those books brought Mother Yan unimaginable fame and achievement, as well as a highly coveted A-level rating.

She seized that opportunity, and since then, every book she published became an instant hit, with her most influential and best-selling first set of books naturally remaining popular to this day. In that series, Mother Yan had emotionally recounted how she had raised an angelic son. / On the ice slide, the System, holding a telescope, was as shocked as the people below.

"Host! Gāo Yìmín did it!" The little villain's foot was still on the old villain's instep.

The System, helping to pull up his trousers, forgot to stay invisible and almost tripped the old man who was rushing down in a hurry. "Midas Touch! The seventy-third great miracle of the Transmigration Bureau!"

Mù Yú was a little curious about what the first seventy-two miracles were. He reached out in time, picking up Little Snowball who was about to be knocked over. "It doesn't count as Midas Touch."

Gāo Yìmín wasn't a stone to begin with, and he didn't miraculously produce a triple jump purely through diligent self-study. This was a junior skater with talent no less than Yàn Xī's, even with better physical stamina than Yàn Xī—after completing fifty sets of triple flips, he challenged the triple Axel, fell all over the place, and still had the energy to jump this high. If Father Yan hadn't brought him into the club and deliberately suppressed and delayed his progress, never adjusting his movements or correcting details…

Yàn Xī would have had a formidable rival in his competitions over the years. This was also why, after merely correcting a critical flaw in his movement, Gāo Yìmín could unleash a surprise that forced Father Yan to rush down immediately to clean up. The System, catching the implied meaning, paused for a few seconds and raised the telescope again, looking down.

Father Yan had already put on a cheerful facade, appearing extremely surprised and pleased, patting Gāo Yìmín's shoulder and constantly offering words of encouragement. Nearby junior skaters also gathered, some congratulating him, others asking for advice, creating a harmonious and peaceful atmosphere. If the negative emotions shown by the mood detector hadn't continued to slowly rise, the System would have almost believed it.

Mù Yú's communicator suddenly vibrated, displaying an incoming call from Mother Yan. Upon connecting, the voice on the other end was still that considerate and regretful tone, "... Mr.

Yú." "I know what you are doing," Mother Yan said. "I must admit, you are far more capable than we imagined."

Mù Yú, while gently stroking the startled Little Snowball's head, casually detached the communicator and handed it to the seemingly idle System. The System received the extremely expensive, versatile voice modulation patch package gifted by the Host from the backend. It excitedly completed the installation and adjusted the sound quality in one second, first sending a hundred different voice tones of "Bro" into the work group.

Mother Yan waited for a long time before finally hearing a calm reply: "You flatter me." She felt a surge of frustration. "..."

She paused for a moment, adjusted her tone again, "However… I believe our disagreement should not come at the cost of a child's sacrifice." The voice on the other end asked, "Sacrifice?"

"Don't you realize it?" Mother Yan said. "Gāo Yìmín will soon be isolated and targeted."

In figure skating, mentality and technique are equally important. No matter how good the technique, it's meaningless if it collapses on the ice. Mother Yan had also come several times to provide mental coaching for the junior skaters under her husband.

The children here were all geniuses, and none of them were to be trifled with. Despite their young age, they already possessed intense competitiveness. Their desire to win burned on their skates, their sharp blades grinding fiercely against the ice.

Everyone watched each other's performance, their eyes filled with "I want to win." In such an environment, a boy with no backing who surprisingly landed a triple Axel would only be seen as a rival and enemy by his jealous teammates. ...

Mother Yan finished speaking in one breath, her tone deepening, "Mr. Yú, the wind will fell the tree that stands tall in the forest; Gāo Yìmín will be destroyed..." She could probably guess how Yú Mù would respond.

This was a high-profile and grand accusation. Nurturing Gāo Yìmín and making him achieve results would undoubtedly improve Yú Mù's precarious rating. Father Yan had used the same method to become a gold medal coach and climb step by step to near A-level.

But if Mù Yú, after understanding these matters, still ignored Gāo Yìmín and let him become a target of public criticism— The voice on the other end said, "Ah." Mother Yan: "... Mr.

Yú?" The voice on the other end crackled, "Wait a moment." Mother Yan frowned.

"Mr. Yú? I don't understand what you mean, are you saying—" The voice on the other end: "Ah, ah, don't talk!"

Mother Yan: "..." The next second, the connection on the other end was terminated. Mother Yan stared inexplicably at the disconnected communication interface.

Wanting to discuss with her husband, she turned around, only to meet Yàn Xī's cold eyes. Her unease intensified, and she silently clenched the communicator. ...

The System, holding the organized notes, drifted to Mù Yú's side with lingering fear. Mother Yan spoke too quickly. While holding the communicator, the System furiously took notes on a notebook.

By the time the other party finished speaking, it was still missing a few sentences. That adoptive mother of Yàn Sǔn, Yan Sūn's mother, was so verbose! She was rambling, almost messing up the notes the System had painstakingly taken.

"Host," the System said, "Yàn Sǔn's adoptive mother said… Gāo Yìmín is in danger." The System asked, "Are you still going to teach him?"

Mù Yú put down the Little Snowball he had just warmed up and took the notebook. "The tree that stands tall in the forest, the wind will fell it." This sentence was written twice in the notebook, not because it was remembered too hastily, but because in the movie Mù Yú starred in, there was also this line of dialogue.

The figure skating movie Mù Yú starred in when he was seventeen featured a character named Bái Yáng. The same Bái Yáng sung about in the song: "A lone white poplar, deep roots and strong trunk, its green leaves flash with silver light." The System had secretly watched that movie—to be honest, it didn't quite understand it.

Films meant to compete for awards always had a somewhat profound air. Non-professionals could only watch for entertainment, unable to articulate what the film was trying to say or convey. It only knew it was a story about a pair of crazy master and disciple.

A young boy, chosen by a devilish coach and brought into the elite training team, had his branches and twigs lopped off, all unsuitable parts trimmed, solely to cultivate a "Black Swan" that met the requirements. In that movie, the "Black Swan" was a choreography that no one could perfectly execute. Ruthless, cunning, dark, and insane, the dying Black Swan was called a spectral dance song hovering at the gates of hell.

In the movie, Bái Yáng was driven to the gates of hell step by step by that coach. Ten minutes into the film, the boy who used to squat by the roadside feeding cats and hide in the locker room drinking an ice-cold cola was gradually destroyed by the coach's endless suppression and humiliation. Everything around him changed; the coach's "special attention" attracted the jealousy of his teammates.

However, the coach showed no intention of resolving it; instead, he increasingly favored Bái Yáng in front of everyone, letting him compete regardless of his performance. Eventually, his teammates parted ways with him one by one. His best friend, whose competition spot he had taken, tragically retired and deleted his contact information.

In that competition, he shattered the patella of his right knee—though some said it was just a hairline fracture, and he had shattered it himself, not just once. This sounded utterly absurd; no one could inflict such severe harm upon themselves. Yet, in the rehabilitation ward, he was indeed tightly bound by restraints, pale and silent, his dark eyes fixed intently on his right leg.

... In the end, his coach succeeded. The boy, admired by countless neighborhood girls, the very image of a white poplar, transformed into a gloomy and cold Black Swan.

His injury healed, he participated in the competition and delivered a breathtakingly mesmerizing and perfect performance on the ice, achieving the highest score in ice skating history. Bathed in brilliance, he met his satisfied coach's gaze from across the rink. Bái Yáng left the ice and limped home.

The cat, having not seen him for a long time, no longer recognized him. When he reached out, it quickly fled into the flower bed. ...

Mù Yú half-crouched, gave the incredibly brave Little Snowball a piece of candy, and presented him with a little hero medal. Unlike the previous two medals, he didn't have suitable wood on hand, so he took a bit of alloy material from his own cane. A shield-shaped medal in gold and silver, surrounded by lush, overlapping branches, all sharp edges smoothed, with a lifelike embossed magnolia in full bloom.

The little fellow lowered his head, silently raised his hand to accept it, and carefully touched the edges of the medal. "I will teach," Mù Yú replied to the System's earlier question. "During the filming, I received figure skating training from the System.

My knowledge reserve is quite good." He would teach Gāo Yìmín, and he would also teach other junior skaters. The final segment of the reality show, the actual filming time was one hundred and forty minutes, but it felt like a week—they would spend a week with the junior skaters in the snow valley.

As "Yú Mù," this was indeed the most efficient way to improve his rating. The System whispered, "The tree that stands tall in the forest..." "The problem isn't with the tree, nor with the forest," Mù Yú said.

"It's with the wind." The System was stunned. Mù Yú wiped the cold sweat from Yàn Sūn's forehead and taught Little Snowball to play with the medal.

He blew a wisp of air, and the magnolia on the medal actually began to spin. Little Snowball: "!" Little Snowball looked up in shock, his dark eyes instantly widening.

Mù Yú coughed lightly, suppressing a smile at the corners of his mouth, and blew another breath. Little Snowball immediately puffed out his cheeks and blew a big breath of his own, looking up and pointing at the spinning little flower: "!!" Mù Yú chuckled, amused.

"It's the wind that fells the tree," Mù Yú replied to the System in his mind. "We want the tree to grow tall, yet we blame it for growing tall." Ten years to grow trees, a hundred years to cultivate people; it's not that easy.

He patted Little Snowball's head. "Planting trees is very complicated." The System: "..."

That was true. No one could challenge his Host's expertise in planting trees. Mù Yú wasn't accustomed to articulating his plans; he preferred to act directly, starting with what could be done, letting things unfold naturally.

But the System was eager to learn and wanted to understand more, so it could help better in the future. "Host, at this time, should you treat everyone equally, teaching each of them a skill?" If done this way, it would indeed alleviate the pressure on Gāo Yìmín.

If everyone was busy practicing their own skills, they wouldn't have time to gang up on or be jealous of others… however, it wasn't that easy. There were only so many skills that could be taught; it was impossible to perfectly balance what everyone learned.

Mù Yú praised it, "That's also a very good method, but it's not ideal." The System slumped, holding its notebook, and sighed. "There aren't that many skills to teach them," Mù Yú said.

"They are too young." At this age, training volume must be strictly limited; otherwise, even if the body doesn't feel immediate strain, accumulated fatigue and pain will lay countless hidden dangers. Father Yan's coaching model was quite simple to analyze: survival of the fittest, extreme pressure, pushing those children to exhaust their talent and potential before leaving the "greenhouse," winning all possible medals and achievements.

Raising a son was the same. Father Yan didn't care whether Yàn Sūn had truly made a mistake. In the original timeline, he thought Yàn Sūn was useless, merely a scapegoat for his eldest son, so he paid no attention; now that he discovered Yàn Sūn had a talent exceeding his eldest son, he started to take notice again.

Following this line of thought, the System became increasingly indignant, "Putting them under such pressure, how can you blame them for fighting? They want to win because if they lose, they have no chance, not because they want this themselves, this old fellow—" Mù Yú squatted down. "Yes."

The System, mid-sentence, was stunned by its Host's response. Mù Yú squatted down in front of Yàn Sūn, picked up the medal they had been playing with for a long time, and pinned it squarely on Little Snowball's chest. Mù Yú said, "For the little hero."

The System immediately dropped its notes and rushed over to scatter flowers, showering the air with sparkling ice blossoms. It was somewhat dazed by its Host's words. …

A little hero. Not a little villain. Just like those children might not have wanted to compete with each other, might not have wanted to hate each other or eye each other with suspicion, might not have wanted to be forced into a never-ending, crazed competition of victory and defeat in their teens.

They were trapped in this environment first, and only then were they forced to grow this way. Yàn Sūn didn't want to drag Yàn Xī down with him, didn't want to drag Yú Mù into the icy water to accompany him, didn't want to become a villain—he was the one first plunged into that dark, cold, stagnant water. Yàn Sūn didn't want to become a villain.

Yàn Sūn didn't want to grow up to be a villain. The System, holding the last handful of ice blossoms, let them fall onto Little Snowball's woolen hat. Yàn Sūn's first direct challenge to Father Yan had indeed been terrifying, a cold sweat breaking out all over his body.

It wasn't until now that he had finally warmed up and his body was no longer stiff. Yet, he still stood perfectly straight, looking extremely fierce, as if any further attempt by Father Yan to trouble Mù Yú would result in him rushing down the slide again to knock Father Yan away. Yàn Sūn nodded forcefully.

"Amazing." He pointed to himself, then hugged Mù Yú, released him, and pointed to himself again. "Amazing," Yàn Sūn tried to stand straight, his pronunciation a little hesitant.

"A-mazing. Amazing." Mù Yú paused, not getting up immediately.

He looked intently at Little Snowball, whose forehead was again damp with cold sweat and whose lips had turned pale. This time, Yàn Sūn did not avoid his gaze. Yàn Sūn swallowed, gasping for breath, and then tried to spread his arms open again.

His language ability had been repeatedly suppressed, yet it manifested elsewhere. The meaning conveyed by his gestures, if one watched carefully, was not difficult to understand. Mù Yú sat down cross-legged, looking at what Yàn Sūn was trying to say, and translated for the System: "He says he is very amazing and can protect me."

Mù Yú said, "So I don't have to be afraid." Yàn Sūn: "Amazing." The kind of amazing that can protect Mù Yú, that can fight Father Yan.

The kind of amazing that would do anything for Mù Yú, even if the cost was being locked in a dark ice rink for a day, two days, three days after the show finished filming and Mù Yú left. The kind of amazing that wouldn't regret it even if frozen solid. Mù Yú reached out and drew Little Snowball into his embrace.

He said, "You don't have to be amazing." Yàn Sūn could mostly understand the meaning of "not." His eyes widened, and he immediately shook his head, then puffed out his small chest, now adorned with the medal.

"You don't have to be amazing." Mù Yú hugged him and stood up, using the ground for support. "The teacher is here."

Mù Yú lifted Little Snowball and embraced him. The little fellow couldn't resist the tickles and burrowed into his arms to hide, the two of them laughing and playing together. Mù Yú lifted Little Snowball high.

"You don't have to be amazing." Yàn Sūn still wanted to resist, but he was taken to play on the slide. In the wind whistling past and the thrill of rapid descent, he became addicted and completely forgot who Father Yan was.

The un-amazing little hero, flushed red with joy, wearing his little medal, excitedly nestled in Mù Yú's arms, raising his small arms along with Mù Yú: "Ah!!!" The little flower on his chest spun in the wind. The System, terrified after just one slide, scattered data all over the place and dejectedly picked it up.

It found an interview clip—an interview Mù Yú gave at a film festival with his teacher after completing that movie. There were three types of acting: the experiential, the method, and the expressive. The so-called "immersive experiential method" meant completely embodying the character.

The world Mù Yú was from also had virtual equipment similar to S03. That teacher proudly told the reporter that to help Mù Yú perfectly portray the scene where he shattered his knee, to express the character's numbness, confusion, and detachment, he had Mù Yú shatter his knee fifty times in the virtual equipment. "If you're my student, you have to endure this kind of hardship," the teacher said.

"You need to have something that sets you apart by being more ruthless… otherwise, with his level of talent, how could he possibly succeed?" The reporter chuckled and smoothed things over, asking if he was still in character as the "devilish coach"—that devilish coach who provoked the protagonist's fighting spirit through suppression and mockery, thereby forcing the protagonist to unleash his full potential.

The teacher waved his hand, humbly speaking for Mù Yú, "He is truly just an ordinary student, there's nothing much to say. It was a matter of fate, a good role came his way..." The System squatted on the ice and watched for a while, then angrily shattered that piece of data.

Nonsense. His Host was the most amazing.