Chapter 97: Wristwatch

On December 8th, Rousseau departed for the indoor track and field invitation tournament in Chengdu, having beforehand tested his performances in the indoor 60 meters and 200 meters events.

His results were an indoor 60-meter time of 6.55 seconds and an indoor 200-meter time of 20.80 seconds.

At present, the world record for the indoor 60 meters is held by the American sprint prodigy Green at 6.39 seconds.

For this discipline, times under 6.40 seconds belong to the divine realm, beyond the reach of ordinary mortals.

Any performance within 6.45 seconds places one in the champion's domain, a category Rousseau dubs the champion's domain.

In recent years, the winning times for indoor 60 meters at the World Championships have hovered around 6.43 seconds.

Thus, Lu Jinrong was quite excited, believing that the 60 meters event represents the one in which Rousseau is closest to world-class levels. Should Rousseau specialize in the indoor 60 meters, he might secure a groundbreaking achievement at next year's World Championships, potentially claiming a medal for domestic athletics.

Rousseau harbored no interest in this prospect.

Indoor competitions were severely restricted in scope; the scale, audience turnout, and level of attention devoted to the domestic invitation event spoke volumes. Had he the time and energy, training for the 100 meters would have been far more appealing.

"However, although the World Championships operate on an invitation basis, participation is still under one's national banner. Your ties with the national team will remain somewhat strained next year..." Lu Jinrong continued.

"Coach, will the national team be competing at the World Championships next year?" Rousseau's heart quickened.

"Yes, Director Shen mentioned that the General Administration has received the national team's training plan, and Coach Li Yan believes it can yield a gold medal." Lu Jinrong replied.

"A gold medal in the sprints... which event?" Rousseau mused.

This Lu Jinrong did not know.

But Rousseau could surmise.

A sub-10.15 in the 100 meters would not even guarantee an invitation, let alone a gold.

The 200 meters was out of consideration altogether; Rousseau was China's premier sprinter, and no invitation had been extended.

The 400 meters was a lost cause, with no promising domestic talent.

The 110 meters hurdles fell outside Li Yan's purview.

Thus, the indoor 60 meters?

"Coach, if the Chengdu Sports Bureau can dispatch me to next year's World Championships, I'll strive to claim a gold in the indoor 60 meters." Rousseau informed Lu Jinrong.

Lu Jinrong, unaware of Rousseau's mental shift, deemed the proposal worth pursuing. As the 2005 World Athletics Championships would soon be followed by the 2006 Asian Games, this could serve as a stepping stone to explore the waters.

...

December 9th.

Lu Jinrong, Rousseau, and Ruan Mei arrived in Chengdu.

Tian Shiwei had not come.

He had wished to.

Yet Lu Jinrong felt Tian Shiwei's physique and weight, comparable to Rousseau's, presented a disadvantageous build for indoor competitions. Rousseau, however, was a singular exception defying convention; Lu Jinrong could not fathom why Rousseau's indoor performances had advanced so dramatically.

In any case, Rousseau possessed the innate conditions to win the championship, and Lu Jinrong would naturally support him. Moreover, Rousseau's form seemed to improve with each competition, perfectly embodying the notion of "performances elevate through competition," a most miraculous occurrence.

...

Chengdu's weather was mildly cool.

Yet owing to its topography, the chill was a damp, penetrating cold, distinct from the capital's arid chill tempered by sandstorms.

Athletes faced an overload of competitions, with considerable time squandered on travel and acclimating to disparate climates, rendering focused training arduous—a factor contributing to the gradual depletion of many star athletes by management teams.

Ruan Mei appeared distinctly uncomfortable upon disembarking.

Upon reaching the hotel, she had developed a slight fever.

Rousseau hurried to the pharmacy adjacent to the hotel, procuring medicine and some congee for Ruan Mei, which he then delivered to her room.

"... It's too much trouble for you..." Ruan Mei weakly opened the door for Rousseau. After taking a few steps, she nearly collapsed onto the carpet. Rousseau's swift reflexes caught her.

"Rest, and skip the competition tomorrow as well." Rousseau assisted Ruan Mei onto the bed.

"Impossible, we've already expended the airfare and secured the hotel reservations... we can't afford to waste..." Ruan Mei shook her head.

As she spoke, Ruan Mei gazed down, fiddling with her wristwatch. It was a particularly distinctive timepiece, capable of setting multiple alarms, yet not an electronic model—her cherished possession that governed her schedule.

"I'll set an alarm... it will ring tomorrow; sleep for a bit today..." Upon setting the alarm, Ruan Mei reclined and nestled beneath the covers.

Rousseau observed Ruan Mei's delicate face peeking from beneath the blankets. Her complexion was already fair, now flushed like porcelain warmed by fire, a rosy hue radiating from her cheeks. He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead; it burned intensely.

"Enough, take the medicine now. Go when the fever subsides tomorrow." Rousseau administered the medicine to Ruan Mei and placed the congee on the bedside table by her bed for her to sip when she awoke.

Following the medicine, Ruan Mei drifted off into a hazy slumber.

Before departing Ruan Mei's room, Rousseau considered for a moment, then took a room key card for her accommodation in case of any incidents, to provide care.

Subsequently, Rousseau proceeded to the hotel's fitness center for some training.

At this juncture, Rousseau's 'power' and 'agility' had reached their utmost limits. Unless essential conditioning to surpass these limits, Rousseau no longer engaged in the frenzied training regimens of yesteryear.

The other patrons in the hotel gym would all take notice of Rousseau; even a daring young lady approached to request his phone number, to which Rousseau offered a polite smile in refusal.

...

The following morning.

Rousseau awoke before seven o'clock.

He drew back the curtains, gazing upon Chengdu's somber, overcast sky.

This somewhat echoed the capital.

Now, Rousseau assessed his condition.

Endurance '86/100'.

Excellent.

Today, Rousseau harbored a conviction that he could secure the top spot in the indoor 60 meters.

Rousseau ate breakfast, then after finishing, he gathered a bag of milk and several eggs. Using the courtesy room card, he entered Ruan Mei's room, feeling her forehead; it was still faintly warm.

"What time is it...?" Ruan Mei weakly clutched Rousseau, attempting to rise.

"Ten o'clock in the evening." Rousseau replied, simultaneously removing the watch from Ruan Mei's wrist.

"Rest well and abstain from the competition until you're better tomorrow."

Before leaving, Rousseau adjusted the curtains in Ruan Mei's room to ensure no light penetrated, and he took her camera.

Lu Jinrong awaited Rousseau downstairs. Observing Rousseau descend with the camera but without Ruan Mei.

"Coach, can you photograph?" Rousseau inquired.

Lu Jinrong had not yet responded when a 'ding ding ding ding' melody emanated from Rousseau's pocket, resembling a music box. Rousseau extracted the watch from Ruan Mei, viewing the delicate bird on the dial that appeared to sing.

It must have been the preset alarm sounding.

"Isn't this Miss Ruan's watch?" Lu Jinrong could not help but ask. "What are you doing with her watch?"

"It must be rather valuable?" Rousseau speculated, halting the alarm, and then handing the watch over to Lu Jinrong together with the camera. "Coach, please keep it safe for me and don't lose it."

Lu Jinrong clutched the camera in one hand and the watch in the other, looking utterly perplexed.