"Right here, Mr. Chivu? I..."
"Do as I say!"
Chivu's tone brooked no argument, so Tang Long had no choice but to obey.
In no time at all, he had stripped down until all he had left on was a pair of red underwear. Chivu signaled that he could stop.
The training ground was empty except for the two of them. Tang Long stood there completely naked apart from his red underwear.
In the distance, an old man mowing the grass turned off the mower and leaned both hands on its handle, curiously watching the two of them.
Chivu carefully examined Tang Long's muscles from head to toe.
He even ran his hands over certain areas, such as Tang Long's shoulders, abdomen, thighs, and calves.
Tang Long was completely bewildered. He had no idea what Chivu was trying to do.
Chivu crouched down and fiddled around for a good while.
At last, he stood up.
Chivu smiled faintly, then stripped naked right in front of Tang Long.
"Mr. Chivu, what are you doing?"
Tang Long stared at Chivu in disbelief, a head full of question marks.
What on earth was he trying to do?
Chivu stood face-to-face with Tang Long.
"Tang, I'm thirty-four this year, and it's been almost a year since I retired from Inter Milan. Look at my body. Where is it different from yours?"
This was the first time Tang Long had seen Chivu completely naked.
He realized that this legendary defender, who had helped Inter Milan win the treble,
had been retired for nearly a year, yet his muscles were still exceptionally well-proportioned.
At 184 centimeters tall, Chivu didn't have the build of a hulking bodybuilder, but the muscles in all the right places were clearly defined, while his stomach was remarkably flat.
Chivu's waist, in particular, looked very slim beneath his broad shoulders.
His upper body formed a handsome inverted triangle.
But Chivu's lower body amazed Tang Long even more!
Beneath thighs as thick as old tree stumps were straight calves that gleamed with muscle.
The scar from surgery on his right knee was clearly visible.
It was a testament to the sixteen years he had spent as a professional.
"Mr. Chivu, I can't believe you've been retired for almost a year and still look this fit!
"I've had a chance to observe my first-team teammates up close in the locker room. I'm not exaggerating when I say that more than half of them aren't in as good shape as you!"
A smug look appeared on Chivu's face.
"Haha, I'm not just bragging, but even though I'm thirty-four and haven't had professional training for over a year, I could still go out there and handle forty-five minutes of Serie A-level physical play."
Compared with Chivu, Tang Long's physique seemed rather lacking.
He smiled sheepishly.
At 182 centimeters, Tang Long was one centimeter taller than the average Serie A player.
But he weighed only 70 kilograms.
By Eastern standards, Tang Long's build was fairly well-proportioned.
But for the European professional game, he was still too light.
"Your chest isn't very developed, and your abs only look defined because you're skinny. Your back has a decent frame, but you haven't filled it out. And your legs' core muscle groups have plenty of room to improve."
Chivu went on, "I watched the footage of your match against Genoa. When those two players went in for that tackle, you actually jumped out of the way. But you slightly twisted your ankle when you landed. That still comes down to a lack of strength in your leg muscles."
"Insufficient strength doesn't just make you suffer in physical challenges and leave you easy to push around. More importantly, it makes you more prone to injury. You're still young, but once you're past twenty, this will become your weak point!"
"Tang, I've got a three-month intensive training plan for you. I'd originally planned to start with the fundamentals, but your muscle strength has a lot of room to improve. Starting today, you'll need to change your diet, sleep, and training!"
That day, Tang Long didn't go home for lunch. He ate with Chivu in the club cafeteria instead.
Chivu told Tang Long to sit down, then personally brought him his meal.
A plate of pasta, a piece of pan-fried steak, a plate of chicken breast, six florets of broccoli, and 200 milliliters of unsweetened yogurt.
Chivu had the same meal, except he had salmon instead of steak.
Tang Long looked at the bare plate of pasta in front of him, his expression troubled.
He wasn't unfamiliar with pasta.
But when Tang Long ate it, he liked to add ketchup. It made it taste better.
He'd slurp it down in no time, just like a bowl of Chinese noodles with tomato sauce.
"Eating pasta with no seasoning at all sounds like it'll be hard to swallow," Tang Long said.
Chivu picked up a small bottle from the next table and shook some over his pasta.
"Pasta doesn't need any seasoning—not even sugar, oil, or salt. Just sprinkle on some black pepper, and it becomes a rare treat. Don't believe me? Try it."
Right in front of Tang Long, Chivu mixed the pasta with black pepper and dug in.
Tang Long managed to choke down two bites.
It tasted awful.
Tang Long couldn't get used to black pepper. It was a little too pungent.
The biggest problem was that it wasn't salty enough. It tasted bland and flavorless.
In fact, Tang Long hadn't eaten much pasta before.
His stomach still belonged to his homeland. He liked rice.
"Tang, I've looked into Chinese eating habits. You're used to foods high in carbohydrates, oil, and fat. They're certainly delicious.
"But that habit is just like us in the West eating McDonald's burgers. It won't help you build a stronger body.
"You need to start by changing your eating habits. I'm not saying your country's food is bad. It's just that most of the time, the diet in front of you is better suited to a professional footballer who wants to endure ninety minutes of high-intensity physical play in Serie A. Do you understand what I mean?"
Next, Chivu laid out breakfast and dinner plans for Tang Long.
Breakfast would be two slices of whole-wheat bread, with absolutely no spreads or sauces—not peanut butter, cheese spread, or anything else—then two boiled eggs, a glass of freshly squeezed juice with no sugar, and an apple.
Dinner would still be pasta with black pepper, three boiled eggs, and a bowl of vegetable salad with no dressing. For meat, he could choose between boiled chicken breast and pan-fried salmon.
He'd also need to have snacks at ten in the morning and four in the afternoon, and drink protein shakes.
"I know you don't smoke or drink, so I don't need to emphasize those. They're a baseline.
"What I do need to emphasize is that carbonated drinks can be very tempting, especially at your age. All right, I'll allow you one 250-milliliter glass of cola a month."
Tang Long quickly said,
"Don't worry, Mr. Chivu. I don't have a habit of drinking fizzy drinks. I just don't like the feeling of all those bubbles bursting against the inside of my mouth."
Tang Long paused, then said, "I feel like you're the nutritionist for a team. But you're even stricter than the first team's nutritionist. The salad they serve here has dressing on it."
Chivu wore the same expression as the Subway Old Man meme.
"Looks like Mancini has been too lax about this. Of course, he's the first-team manager. He can't keep a personal eye on everything, and the people under him don't necessarily listen to him."
"But Tang, when it comes to your body, you have to trust me completely. You're only eighteen, and your muscles haven't fully developed yet. You need to be careful about what you eat."
Tang Long had a question he'd been wondering about for a while, and he couldn't help asking Chivu:
"Is eating enough to build muscle strength?"
"In your dreams," Chivu said with a smile. "That intense training I mentioned? I only gave you a gentle introduction just now. From now on, every day, you'll have to do extra training with me after you finish the first team's sessions!"
"My goal for you is to build a body that can handle ninety minutes of physical play in Serie A."
As he said this, Chivu's smile faded.
His expression turned serious.
"Tang, I'll be straight with you. If your body stays as frail as it is now, then even with your exceptional vision of the game, the best you can hope for is to be an impact substitute. Mancini will never put you in the starting lineup!"
Before you continue