Volume Two: Shadows of the Past Chapter Four: I Have a Dream! I Have Never Given Up!-Don't Mess with the Superstar(Of all the vast waters in the world, none compare to you.)

“The Chinese restaurant we ate at this afternoon?” Chen Jing asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

Chen Shuo nodded dejectedly. He simply couldn’t understand it—why was it that the two of them ate at the same place, yet he was the only one to fall ill? Chen Jing looked perfectly fine, vigorous and full of life. Was it because Chen Jing had ordered steak, while he’d chosen Chinese food? That didn’t make sense. After all, the restaurant prided itself on its Chinese cuisine; surely they wouldn’t neglect their signature dishes.

Watching Chen Shuo totter unsteadily back to bed, Chen Jing grew concerned. “Let me go buy you some medicine for your stomach first. If it doesn’t help, I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“No hospital,” Chen Shuo replied weakly, shaking his head. “Just bring me some medicine, that’ll be enough.”

It was already so late; going to the hospital would be a hassle. Besides, Chen Jing had a competition the next day. If they got caught up in all that, he wouldn’t get any rest at all—it would affect his performance. For that reason alone, Chen Shuo was determined not to go to the hospital.

But things rarely go as we wish. Even after taking the medicine Chen Jing bought, Chen Shuo’s condition didn’t improve. After several more desperate dashes to the bathroom, Chen Jing couldn’t bear it any longer.

“I’m fine, really, no need for the hospital,” Chen Shuo protested stubbornly as Chen Jing helped him out of the hotel.

“You’re practically collapsing, and you still say you’re fine?” Chen Jing said helplessly, then added, “I suspect you’ve got reactive gastroenteritis triggered by fever and weakness. You need to see a doctor, or this could turn into something much more serious.”

“But it’s such a hassle,” Chen Shuo muttered, his spirits low. “It’s already past midnight, and you have your competition tomorrow. If we run around all night, it’ll ruin everything.”

“Stop worrying about all that. Let’s just get you to the hospital,” Chen Jing said firmly.

And so Chen Shuo was all but dragged to the hospital by Chen Jing. Chen Jing handled the registration, presented the necessary documents, and spoke with the doctors—he was the only one who knew English, after all.

Chen Shuo was deeply grateful. Had it been anyone else with him, he’d have been utterly helpless in this foreign land.

At last, after the doctor’s examination, the diagnosis was confirmed: reactive gastroenteritis, caused by acclimatization issues, a weakened body after fever, and possibly excessive stress. Exactly as Chen Jing had guessed.

Fortunately, it wasn’t anything serious, and the Chinese restaurant was cleared of suspicion—their food wasn’t to blame.

Medication was prescribed, and an IV drip set up. Chen Jing arranged a hospital bed for Chen Shuo so he could rest, since they’d been up most of the night.

“Jing, go back and get some sleep. I’ll be fine here with the IV. You have your competition in the morning,” Chen Shuo urged from his bed, feeling deeply guilty.

“Don’t worry about it,” Chen Jing replied gently. “Just focus on getting better. Leave the competition to me.”

Seeing that everything was settled and there was nothing more he could do, Chen Jing comforted Chen Shuo and left.

Watching Chen Jing’s departing figure, Chen Shuo was overwhelmed by guilt. These past few days, despite his illness, Chen Jing had shown not a trace of annoyance or blame—only patient care. That only made Chen Shuo feel worse.

By the next morning, after a night of treatment and rest, Chen Shuo’s discomfort had subsided. Even so, he didn’t check out. For one thing, he couldn’t speak English to communicate with the hospital staff; for another, Chen Jing had promised to pick him up after his competition.

After his morning IV, Chen Shuo didn’t sleep well. The hospital was bustling from early on, making it impossible to rest. But the main reason for his insomnia was his anxiety about Chen Jing’s competition. He felt sure that, because of his own troubles, Chen Jing wouldn’t be able to advance. But what if—just what if? After all, it was Chen Jing.

Clinging to that small hope, Chen Shuo found himself unable to rest.

Finally, his anticipation was rewarded. A little after three in the afternoon, Chen Jing pushed open the door and entered the hospital room. There was no trace of disappointment on his face.

Chen Shuo’s dim eyes immediately lit up. Suppressing his delight, he couldn’t help but ask, “Jing! How did it go? Did you make it to the next round?”

Chen Jing nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “Mm, I advanced. Tomorrow’s the grand finals.”

“Yes!” Chen Shuo shouted, unable to contain his excitement.

“Jing, you’re incredible.” Seeing Chen Jing’s calm demeanor, Chen Shuo was at a loss for words; everything he wanted to say condensed into that single sentence.

Chen Jing shook his head, steering the conversation away from the competition and asking about Chen Shuo’s health. “How are you feeling? Any better?”

“I feel great, completely recovered,” Chen Shuo replied, brimming with energy. Now that he knew Chen Jing had advanced, the anxiety that had plagued him was gone. He no longer felt any trace of illness; he felt like he could eat ten bowls of rice.

Of course, ten bowls was out of the question. After checking out of the hospital, Chen Jing took him to a simple meal of rice porridge and vegetables—nothing too heavy for a stomach that had only just recovered.

That evening, back at the hotel, Chen Shuo had barely settled into bed when he noticed Chen Jing changing clothes, clearly preparing to go out.

“Jing, are you heading out?” Chen Shuo asked, surprised.

“Yeah, just going for a night run. It’s too early to sleep,” Chen Jing replied, lacing up his shoes.

A night run? With the finals tomorrow? Wasn’t that a bit much? Chen Shuo silently grumbled, but he knew by now that Chen Jing was not someone who could be understood by ordinary logic.

Noticing Chen Jing’s thin running shirt, Chen Shuo couldn’t help but suggest, “Maybe you should wear another layer? Wouldn’t want to catch a cold…” He stopped abruptly, remembering that every time he’d warned Chen Jing about something since arriving, he’d jinxed himself instead. He was genuinely afraid of his own unlucky tongue.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Chen Jing replied with a smile, reassuring him before heading out. Chen Shuo watched his friend’s retreating back, at a loss for words.

The night passed uneventfully. Chen Shuo awoke feeling more refreshed than ever—it was the best night’s sleep he’d had since coming abroad. He felt as if he’d been reborn, and hoped that Chen Jing would win a good result today.

After breakfast, the two made their way to the competition venue together.

Seeing Chen Shuo’s barely contained excitement, Chen Jing could only shake his head in disbelief. “Why are you so hyped up?”

“How could I not be? This is the finals of the International Street Dance Competition!” Chen Shuo exclaimed. “Do you know, Jing? This competition only happens every few years. The last one was four years ago—it was my first time attending. I came full of ambition, only to have reality hit me hard.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “I was eliminated in the very first round. I thought I was a top dancer back home, but I realized there are always greater talents out there. After that setback, I finally saw myself clearly. Compared to those gifted dancers, I was nothing. So when I returned, I gave up the dream of pursuing street dance glory and became a dance coach instead.”

Chen Jing hadn’t known this about Chen Shuo. Watching the man, who claimed to have given up on his dreams but had never truly let go, Chen Jing said quietly, “It’s not that we’ve given up on our dreams.”

“Hm?” Chen Shuo looked at him, puzzled.

“We’ve never abandoned our dreams,” Chen Jing said with conviction. “Reality just forced us to bury them deep inside. I believe that one day, when we’re strong enough, we’ll again be able to declare, ‘I have a dream!’”

The words left Chen Shuo stunned, and he walked on, lost in thought.

Chen Jing smiled. “You taught me street dance, entered me in this competition, and even came along as my coach. Why? Isn’t it all for the sake of that dream?”

After a long moment, Chen Shuo let out a slow breath and said firmly, “Yes, I never gave up my dream.” He nodded gratefully to Chen Jing. “Thank you, Jing, for helping me face my true self again.”

By then, they had reached the competition site. Someone recognized Chen Jing and spoke in astonishment to those nearby. Soon, more people noticed, and the buzz of conversation gradually faded into a hush.

Chen Shuo, still caught up in the emotion of Chen Jing’s words, didn’t notice the unusual silence.

In the quiet arena, Chen Jing’s voice rang out clearly: “Dreams are not to be abandoned—they can be inherited. You introduced me to street dance and brought me onto this stage. So your dream has become mine as well. Now, let’s chase our dream together.”

As he spoke, Chen Jing strode forward, and the arena grew utterly silent. Then, someone shouted, “Mr. Chen!”

Instantly, the hall erupted in a tidal wave of voices.

“Chen!”

Shocked, Chen Shuo stared as Chen Jing turned back to smile at him, with a thousand voices rising behind him in a chorus for their shared dream.