Thousands of Stars Are Yours Alone

When I was 17 years old, I ran a personal best time in the provincial team trials. The moment I crossed the finish line, I felt tearing pain in my left knee - the anterior cruciate ligament was ruptured. The doctor said: "Even if the operation is successful, you will not be able to return to the level of a professional athlete." I didn't believe it, so I worked hard to rehabilitate and get up at four o'clock in the morning to train every day. But half a year later, I didn't even make it to the 100-meter final of the school sports meet. That night, I locked all the medals in a drawer and asked myself for the first time: What else can I do besides running? My mother opened the door and came in, handing me the admission brochure of Jinghua University: "Xingchen, sports are not just about athletes." When I turned to the "Sports Economics and Management" major, I suddenly remembered what the provincial team coach said on the day I retired: "Xingchen, you have a talent greater than running - you can always make people around you want to be better." Maybe, this is my new track. Gu Yezhou's "Piano Monologue" In the winter when I was 10 years old, my mother played her last song "Swan Lake" at a concert. When I rushed onto the stage, she collapsed beside the piano, still holding the bow. On the day of the funeral, I didn't cry. Grandfather touched my head and said, "Ye Zhou, the Gu family will depend on you from now on." From then on, I became what everyone expected me to be: number one in my grade, a business genius, and the perfect heir. Only when I play the cello late at night, I am Gu Yezhou.