Chapter 277: #eighty-eighty that prince on ice

Another winter day.

Outside is the season of snow, the sky and the earth is not scraped by the common snow crystals, but a piece, like a goose feather with detailed velvet edges.

It's been a long time since I've had such a painful snowfall.

It was warm and spring-like inside the decorated launch venue, with countless long guns aimed at the teenager wearing a thick sweater on stage.

The proud son of a man who won first place in the preliminary round of the men's singles skating program without a doubt deserves this kind of pomp and circumstance.

A British reporter asked, "Winter, the theme you chose for your solo ice dance this time is 'Plum Blossom', which is a very beautiful visual enjoyment for the audience. Can you tell us about the design concept of this ice dance?"

Dong Ge gripped the megaphone, his voice clear and clean, as if he had rubbed a bit of snow into his vocal line, "The plum blossom is a common imagery in classical Chinese literature, often representing pride, self-respect and an outstanding temperament. I admire and love this flower."

The reporter continued, "So why did you choose the cane as a prop for the show, and is there any special symbolism?"

Hearing this question, the young man who blossomed brilliantly on the ice and was always as cold as ice pursed his lips slightly, his eyes lighted up, and his voice softened a lot: "This is taken from a Chinese poem. 'When will you look at the southern snow, I and the plum blossom two white heads', is one of my life goals."

He tried his best to find the right English words and translated the poem for the crowd.

There was good-natured laughter from the journalists below who knew Dong Ge well.

Many people know who Dong Ge is referring to when he says "Plum Blossom".

Sure enough, as soon as the press conference was over, Junior got a call from his little plum.

He greeted with a smirk, "Hi. My-wintersweet."

He Zhangsheng on the other end of the phone, behind the ears of a large red, he rubbed his fingertips twice, and then remembered that Dong Ge is not around, do not need to hide, you can blush freely.

He squared his shoulders, "Got something serious to tell you."

Dong Ge respectfully said, "Senior."

He Zhangsheng held a small notebook specialized in recording Dong Ge's match: "At 1:12, there is a little problem with your movements. Remember to watch the video when you review."

Dong Ge clips his cell phone to his ear with his shoulder, takes out a small notebook of the same type from his pocket, and carefully notes down his senior's comments, "1 minute and 12 seconds, is there any more?"

"Uh-huh. And ......"

Dong Ge sat under the eaves and waited for the coach. The snow fell on his shoulders, but he didn't shake it, only listened to He Zhangsheng's words on the other side of the phone and recorded them in detail.

After jotting down his instructions one by one, Dong Ge closed the book and laughed, "Senior, I'll be right back to the hotel when I finish the review meeting, so why don't you wait for me to go back and talk about it."

The voice on the other side of the phone paused and said softly, "Don't want to delay too much. Come back ...... and do the right thing."

Dong Ge's cheerful laughter called the person on the other side of the panic, reprimanded "do not laugh", then hung up the phone with a stern face.

The two sides are as red as they come.

Dong Ge laid his cell phone across his lap, picked up a handful of snow, and gently wiped his cheeks, then looked at the small book in his hand, and from back to front, turned page after page until he reached the title page.

The title page reads, "To the Death."

This is the motto he has written on the title page of every record book since he was reborn in the fire.

Today he, too, is working tirelessly to live well, for his sake and for Mr. Ikari's.

Dong Ge clutched the book reverently into his arms, as if he were carrying a belief.

Dong Ge's final day is fast approaching and He Zhangsheng is about to start his pairs program.

Compared to him, He Zhangsheng is nearing the end of his professional life, and as a result, He Zhangsheng values every opportunity to compete even more than Dong Ge.

Early in the morning from the hotel, Dong Ge asked the waiter and a young fan for a lucky coin each, which he put into the pumper he had brought with him.

Dong Ge threw in the first one, "Good luck to the seniors in the tournament."

Dong Ge threw in a second one, "Have a good day, senpai."

He Zhangsheng listened with amusement, "What about you. Why don't you make a wish for yourself?"

Dong Ge easily held He Zhangsheng's waist with one hand and dropped a warm, itchy kiss on the tip of his nose: "If senior is happy, of course it can only be because of me, isn't it?"

People in their early twenties, a little proud, a little overbearing, but also let He Zhangsheng like this.

Today's Dong Ge, his race suit is a close-fitting silver feathered coat, as if draped in a section of moonlight, and when he raises his sleeves, the delicate light feathers on his arms make him look like a bird that will spread its wings and soar away at any moment.

According to the order of the match, Dong Ge is the last one to go to the stage.

During the customary warm-up around the field, he habitually looked out into the audience.

It was a habit that Mr. Ikari had helped him develop during the seven years he had spent with him.

At that time, Mr. Ike would always look for Dong Feihong, his non-existent brother-in-law, in the audience.

Thinking in this way, Dong Ge's eyes turned, and in the rest of his vision, a familiar figure appeared.

He slid out forward a bit, then stood on the ice.

At first, Dong Ge thought he was hallucinating because he was thinking too much.

His little uncle, forgotten by the world, sat in the front row of the audience as if he had never disappeared.

Beside Uncle Junior sat a strange young man, leaning cat-like against his shoulder, squinting and smiling at him.

Dong Ge's heart suddenly thumped wildly.

...... is him.

Even though he had never seen that face before, Dong Ge knew that the person who could stay by his little uncle's side, the person who could tell him to lean like that, had to be Mr. Ikari.

Dong Ge is the center of attention in the room, and soon someone notices Dong Ge's stagnation.

Within ten seconds or so, there were already good cameras following along, trying to get a glimpse of the object of Dong Ge's attention.

Dong Ge drops his head, slightly longer strands of hair slipping behind his ears, and turns to slide away, turning the gaze he had just held naturally into a momentary loss of concentration.

After seven years of living together, he knows Chi Xiaochi very well.

The benefactor came noiselessly, supposedly not wanting to be disturbed, just wanting to watch a game quietly.

The corners of Dong Ge's mouth couldn't help but raise in a smile.

He knew Chi Xiaochi's heart and knew full well that he had no little uncle.

So, it is self-evident for whom this "Uncle Junior" was born.

Dong Ge has always regretted that he discovered the secret at that time, but was not able to tell Chi Xiaochi about it.

And now, seeing Chi Xiaochi's closeness to his brother-in-law, his regrets have melted away.

All he can do is finish this race, for himself and for Chi Xiaochi.

Back in the center of the field, Dong Ge bites off his right glove with a precious hand and throws it up in the direction of the stands.

Chi Xiaochi raised his hand, a shimmering light flashed in his palm, and the glove flew as accurately as a swallow throwing itself into a forest, and was caught in his hand.

Sighs of regret came from all around.

This one glove is worth a thousand dollars today.

Chi Xiaochi puts his still-warm gloves back on and gently takes Lou Ying's hand in the warmth, looking with him at the teenager who soars and burns on the ice.