Chapter Ninety-Nine: Rising to Fame

Ruan Mei was more than a little aggrieved and annoyed. She knew full well that Rousseau had taken care of her while she was ill and that she ought to be grateful—otherwise, she’d be like the proverbial dog biting the hand that feeds it. But her work remained unfinished, and hadn’t the money for the plane ticket and the hotel all gone to waste?

Yet when she saw Rousseau swiping his card at the hotel’s buffet restaurant and telling them to “add one more,” she was startled.

“No, no, I’m not eating,” Ruan Mei waved her hand, then leaned in to whisper to Rousseau, “The buffet here is so expensive! It’s much more cost-effective to eat outside.”

“The money’s already paid, and it’s non-refundable,” Rousseau replied. “Unless I eat for two?”

“How does one eat for two at a buffet? You don’t have two stomachs,” Ruan Mei sighed.

“My treat—let’s just say I’m celebrating my first place in the indoor 60 meters today,” Rousseau said.

“You won again?” Ruan Mei gasped, genuinely impressed. “That’s amazing.”

The good news chased away her regret at not being able to attend in person and take photos. She gathered plenty of food and then told Rousseau, “I insist on paying you back for this meal. I can’t keep taking advantage of your generosity.”

“Alright, suit yourself,” Rousseau said, then asked curiously, “Your family is quite well-off, isn’t it? Why are you so stingy?”

“I am not stingy!” Ruan Mei protested. “I just think you shouldn’t spend money where it isn’t necessary.”

“Isn’t that the same as being stingy?” Rousseau said. “I’m frugal too, but you’ve got to spend when it’s appropriate.”

“Instant noodles fill me up just as well. Why spend hundreds on a buffet? That’s money wasted,” Ruan Mei countered.

“I’m an athlete. I need proper nutrition,” Rousseau said.

“I’m not like you. As long as I’m full, that’s enough,” Ruan Mei replied.

Clicking his tongue, Rousseau found himself at a loss for words.

Though she thought the buffet was outrageously expensive, Ruan Mei didn’t eat much—certainly not enough to get her money’s worth. Her appetite was truly modest. Rousseau found himself thinking that a girl like this, capable and satisfied with so little, would be easy enough to take care of.

After the meal, Rousseau fetched the camera from Lu Jinrong and returned it to Ruan Mei. As she looked through the photos Lu Jinrong had taken, she couldn’t help but smile.

“So unflattering.”

“The coach needs to work on his technique.”

“You look awful too.”

“You’re just retaliating because I didn’t wake you up, aren’t you?”

“No, no, thank you for taking care of me…”

“Forget it,” Rousseau said, waving it off.

—

December 11th.

Morning, 11:00 a.m. The 200-meter final at the Rongcheng stop of the Indoor Athletics Invitational.

Rousseau clinched first place with a time of 20.80 seconds, breaking his own record from the Capital stop, shaving another 0.05 seconds off.

When the results were announced, every coach and sprinter present turned their attention to him. Then, someone started clapping, and soon everyone was applauding.

Although there were no spectators at the indoor invitational, the coaches and athletes were audience enough. They all knew Rousseau’s previous results and realized that before their very eyes, a rising sprinting star in the national sports scene was coming into his own.

Rousseau was demonstrating his dominance across all domestic sprint events.

Listening to the applause, Lu Jinrong couldn’t help but feel moved. He understood that professional recognition is both the hardest and the easiest thing to earn—provided you produce results that are truly competitive.

When your speed leaves your peers in the dust, when you operate on an entirely different competitive plane, most people can’t help but admire you.

Rousseau, however, remained calm. He simply clasped his hands in greeting to the crowd. Compared to the East Qing Games, where tens of thousands had cheered for him in unison, this was a modest scene. He believed there would be even more applause for him in the future.

Ruan Mei seized the moment, snapping many photos—especially of Rousseau’s rivals applauding his victory. These would become highlights when Lu Wang promoted their brand and spokesperson.

—

That afternoon, Rousseau competed in the indoor 400 meters.

The 400 meters was a race Rousseau had never quite figured out. It marked the boundary between sprints and distance running—a hybrid event where anaerobic effort dominated, but aerobic capacity still played a part. The strategies and technical demands were vastly different from the 100 and 200 meters.

Every time Rousseau ran the 400 meters, it felt as if he were being skinned alive from exhaustion.

Lu Jinrong believed Rousseau’s struggles with the 400 stemmed simply from a lack of practice; Rousseau hadn’t mastered the necessary techniques.

Of course, Rousseau never really had time to train for the 400. This time at the Rongcheng stop, he figured, “Since I’m here, I might as well give it a shot.”

The key was a lack of suitable techniques. The “acceleration” technique didn’t quite fit the 400. With stamina draining at a rate of one point per second, if he wasn’t in top form, he’d be liable to faint by the finish.

Wearing the Glass Crown was also inadvisable. The 400 was already grueling, and the added fatigue risked injury. It wasn’t worth getting hurt just for one race.

So, whenever Rousseau ran the 400 meters, he used neither “technique” nor “titles”—he just ran.

His typical indoor 400-meter time was just over 50 seconds, which wasn’t bad. Outdoors, he could manage under 48 seconds, also respectable.

These were Rousseau’s times without using his status bar.

That afternoon, he performed decently in the preliminaries, reaching the finals with a time of 50.12 seconds.

In the final, two hours later, among six competitors, Rousseau clocked 50.05 seconds, placing third—a result that would have earned him a medal, had the indoor invitational awarded them. Instead, he’d receive a certificate in the mail.

After finishing, Rousseau was utterly spent, collapsing on the spot.

Then, Xiao Qiang, a competitor from Liaoning who’d placed first, passed by with a mocking expression and clicked his tongue. “So much for being an all-rounder—your 400 meters is still lacking.”

But what exactly was an “all-rounder”? Rousseau wasn’t sure.

Still, he was quite pleased. He realized that the gap between his results with and without the status bar’s “techniques” was shrinking, especially over 400 meters.

Of course, with the Glass Crown, there was still a wide gap. But this was a good sign.

It proved that Rousseau was fast enough on his own.

—

The Rongcheng stop of the Indoor Athletics Invitational thus came to a close.

With first-place finishes in the 60 and 200 meters and a third in the 400, Rousseau was the meet’s brightest star.

This gave Guan Zhaoyue plenty of material for her next piece.

Back at the hotel, Rousseau accommodated several groups of reporters for interviews, which delayed his return to Pengcheng until the 13th. Lu Jinrong wasn’t too happy about this. He felt Rousseau was growing too fond of fame—a dangerous tendency.

An athlete’s progress ultimately depended on training, and external distractions like fame and fortune, while perhaps harmless now, would eventually take their toll.

Rousseau’s explanation was, “Coach, I need to get famous. I have to put more pressure on the national team.”

Ah, he hasn’t forgotten about the national team, Lu Jinrong thought, giving Rousseau a pat on the shoulder—a habitual gesture when he was at a loss for words. This was a boy who couldn’t bear to lose.

—

Indeed, just as Rousseau had said, the national team—currently training at the General Administration base—could feel the pressure, coaches and athletes alike.

For before them lay a newspaper headline: “Rousseau Dominates Indoor 60m and 200m, Wins Double Gold at Rongcheng Indoor Invitational!”