Smothered by Praise

When the bright morning sunlight fell over La Moraleja in Madrid, it seemed to coat the garden-like wealthy district in a layer of light.

Inside a detached mansion in the heart of the district, Yang Yang was shirtless, doing strength training in the semi-open gym.

He did not look particularly burly, but his muscles were extremely solid. Years of consistently sticking to strength training had given him a lean, explosive appearance and an exceptionally athletic physique.

Especially when he hoisted the barbell, every muscle on his body bulging as beads of sweat the size of beans slid down with his movements, he radiated a powerful, conquering beauty. Yet he himself was completely immersed in his training, oblivious to everything else.

It was a habit he had developed over many years.

Ever since he had played for Ajax and begun following Winston Bogarde in intensive training, he had fallen into the gym's deep pit. He had never climbed back out, and the habit had given him a strong body that made him less prone to injury.

From Ajax to Liverpool and then to Real Madrid, Yang Yang had suffered minor injuries from time to time over the years, but he had never been plagued by any serious injury. That was what had led to his current status and performances.

Because of that, Yang Yang had never considered changing this good habit of his.

Even though many people considered it painful, or even self-abusive.

Such matters were often like drinking water—only the person drinking knew whether it was hot or cold.

Before he knew it, he had been with Real Madrid for three months.

Over those three months, Yang Yang felt that he had changed a great deal.

For example, he had begun to realize that his every move would be