“Look on the bright side going first means the ice is in the best condition, and you won’t be affected by anyone else’s scores.”
The day before the 2014–2015 Grand Prix Final, after the draw ceremony concluded, Xi Ming looked at the sea of grim faces around him. Amused, he still tried to comfort them, “There are only six people competing anyway. It’s not like there’s a huge gap between first and sixth place.”
His gaze landed on Qi Yu, and he deliberately teased him in a playful tone, “I’m the one who drew first, so why does your face look like it was your draw, Qi-ge?”
In reality, Qi Yu’s draw was pretty good he was fourth to skate in the senior men’s event. The pairs team in their group, Han Ling and Han Feng, had even drawn the final, closing position. That only made Xi Ming’s luck seem a bit worse by comparison.
“I’m obviously worried about you, little junior!” Qi Yu knew Xi Ming was joking with him, so he seized the chance to hook an arm around him and ruffle that curly hair he’d always been itching to touch. Seeing how calm Xi Ming had stayed since the draw, much of Qi Yu’s concern had already faded. “But it looks like you’re the most level-headed of us all, so I can rest easy now.”
Qi Yu was telling the truth. From the moment Xi Ming drew the first skating position in the junior men’s event, Xi Ming himself didn’t seem bothered at all. Instead, it was the rest of the Chinese team starting with Qi Yu’s sour face that caught the worry like a contagion, leaving everyone looking anxious by the time they left.
Xi Ming, with his composed expression, stood out as remarkably unruffled among them.
“Exactly, exactly. Xiao Xi makes a good point it’s just six in the final, so first and sixth aren’t that different.” Han Ling nodded in agreement while casting a longing glance at Xi Ming’s hair, then eyeing Qi Yu’s hand. She wanted to ruffle his hair too; those little curls looked like they’d feel great to touch.
Qi Yu caught Han Ling’s meaning and shrugged helplessly. By now, Xi Ming had broken free from Qi Yu’s grip and was trying to flatten his unruly hair, shooting wary looks at the others like a cat that resented human affection.
Even cuter, Han Ling thought, but she could only reluctantly give up on the idea of mussing his hair like Qi Yu had.
Now that he was fussing over his hair, it seemed the draw was behind him. Xi Ming gave one last tug at his stubborn locks and glanced at the others, who had already moved on to discussing tomorrow’s competition.
Maybe it was because he was the youngest in the Chinese team, or because he was the baby of his family with an inherent “fragile” filter, but Xi Ming felt that Qi Yu and the others always carried an excess of concern for him.
He certainly didn’t see that concern as a burden, but he also genuinely meant what he’d said he didn’t care much about the skating order in the final. After all, the six who made it here were all standouts among their peers.
All he needed to do was give his all on the ice.
The next day, the final officially began. The first event after the opening ceremony was the junior men’s short program.
Even during the six-minute warm-up, Xi Ming could feel the fierce fighting spirit radiating from everyone.
Takahashi Shohei no longer wore the haughty look he’d had at the Japan stop; his gaze was lowered slightly, as if weighed down by pressure. Mikhail, too, didn’t shoot Xi Ming that icy glare this time, instead fully immersing himself in his own practice.
“Hey, Xi Ming~” Chris glided past Xi Ming, grinning and waving at him. He seemed no different from usual.
But Xi Ming could sense that Chris was more hyped up than normal though, to be fair, he was in a similar state himself.
Since his rebirth, he’d stepped onto the ice countless times: the championship, the qualifiers, the Grand Prix stops he’d already had plenty of exhilarating competitions. But the Grand Prix Final was always something different.
He was back. Back on the very stage where, at fourteen, he’d first made a name for himself. He’d crossed time and stood on a rink that his sixteen-year-old self could never have reached again.
Xi Ming pushed off on his right back outside edge, turned, and jumped. The cameras captured his high, soaring 3A. At the start of the season, that jump might not have been a reliable one, but from then until now, his success rate in official competitions had been high, carrying him all the way to the final.
This practice jump was no different a clean landing, a beautiful position, the kind of jump that would earn generous GOE from the judges in competition.
“He really is the dark horse of this final.” Oleg, standing by the boards and watching the same jump, wore a serious expression. “No wonder Misha lost to him. Hard to believe Qi Yu said that a year ago, he couldn’t even land a triple consistently because of his height.”
“You can tell from his performance in every competition,” Coach Igor said appreciatively. “He has an all-out fighting spirit, so it’s not surprising that he managed to overcome difficulties and return to his peak.”
Igor then looked toward his own student, Mikhail, who was skating toward the ice rink exit to step off. “Misha’s personality is resilient too, but compared to Xi Ming, he’s still a bit lacking.”
“It’s probably the age gap. By next year, Misha will be much more mature than he is now,” Oleg said, showing great trust in his junior fellow student. After all, he himself was a standout who had emerged from Russia’s fiercely competitive skating scene. In Oleg’s view, Misha only lacked a bit of Xi Ming’s maturity; his technique was on par.
After all, if they were ranked by accumulated points for the final, Misha actually placed one spot above Xi Ming.
Igor naturally believed in the student he coached as well. He and Oleg didn’t continue discussing Xi Ming, instead falling silent to watch the competition seriously.
Xi Ming’s short program was about to begin.
As the music sounded, Xi Ming executed a rapid series of toe-step sequences across the ice, then followed with a chained step sequence after a waltz jump. He tilted his head slightly upward, and everyone could clearly see his joyful smile.
The first performance of the Grand Prix Final had begun.
A delightful banquet was also unfolding.
Lanzik, off the ice, was momentarily stunned by Xi Ming’s smile, then tightened his clasped hands in front of him and murmured softly, “His performance has become more refined.”
After half a season of polishing, Xi Ming’s short program had rapidly matured and perfected itself.
If the Rose Spirit Xi Ming was entirely a rose elf, then the Xi Ming in the short program “The Nutcracker” was a prince who had come to life from the tale. The already tall young man now possessed a blend of innocence and maturity, caught between youth and adulthood. As he glided backward with one hand behind his back, he looked like a prince dancing with his beloved at a ball utterly captivating.
With just the opening dance sequence, Xi Ming completely commanded the atmosphere of the arena. Unlike the sudden intensity of the Japan stop, today’s ball was perfectly cheerful and delightful.
“Ah!”
So when Xi Ming fell on his first jump, the entire arena let out an almost instinctive sigh of disappointment, and Lanzik’s heart tightened for a moment.
Though he had fallen, he had completed the full rotation before the fall. This 3A wouldn’t be downgraded. Even if all execution scores were deducted plus an additional one-point penalty, as long as Xi Ming completed the rest of his program layout normally, his expressiveness would still give him a chance to recover.
Lanzik instinctively analyzed this, then smiled when he realized what he was doing. Should he be impressed by Xi Ming? Even as his own competitor, when Xi Ming made a mistake, he instinctively thought of recovery strategies for him.
But it wasn’t strange because it was Xi Ming. The vitality of his programs was unforgettable after just one viewing.
On the ice, Xi Ming quickly stood up and immediately returned to the short program’s step sequence. His expression was the same as before the fall, still immersed in the emotion of the performance. Apart from the moment of the fall, when his expression was hidden by his hanging hair, his program never broke.
As proof, he still completed his graded step sequence at high quality, gliding swiftly and beautifully across the ice, leaving behind a series of clean arcs carved by his blades. When he entered the combination spin with the music, the arena’s atmosphere surged to a new peak.
Come, come, let us dance freely, before this beautiful dream awakens.
And Xi Ming on the ice wore a joyful smile the entire time. To everyone watching, he seemed completely lost in his performance. But in reality, Xi Ming was very calm. His spin was fierce and beautiful, and his thoughts remained clear amid the audience’s enthusiastic response.
He knew perfectly well that his 3A fall in such a final stage would be seized upon by his competitors and ruthlessly used to step on him.
After completing the originally planned flying camel spin ahead of schedule, in the latter half of the short program, Xi Ming turned, glided for speed, and jumped. He entered his second jump of the short program: the 3F+3T.
Among junior skaters, Xi Ming was undoubtedly a master of edge technique, so even the flip jump often prone to wrong or unclear edges was executed with perfect clarity and precision. The moment he landed, he quickly connected into the second jump of the combination, the 3T. Now that he was becoming familiar with the 4T, Xi Ming could feel his 3T growing easier and more effortless.
Xi Ming himself only vaguely sensed how clean and easy this combination felt, but to the audience, it was a very relaxed double jump, with beautiful posture and a comfortable rhythm that was pleasing to the eye.
Likewise, the final lutz triple jump was completed with great success.
Amid the sudden burst of applause from the entire arena, Xi Ming completed his spin and brought the first men’s singles short program to a close.
Gasping for breath, Xi Ming only now felt the slight pressure from his fall during the jump begin to dissipate. A thin sheen of sweat dampened a few strands of his hair. He bowed to each side of the rink in gratitude, and as he finally straightened up, he raised both hands and waved them vigorously. Under the glow of the lights, his smile shone brighter than the sun.
No matter what, he had given it his all. The rest of the competition could be left to the free skate the match was far from over.