The Door to a New World

...During that interview, I asked Hu Lai a question: "Of all the goals you've scored in your football career so far, which one left the deepest impression on you, or meant the most to you?"

I had asked nearly every forward I'd interviewed that same question.

It was actually a very formulaic question, and most players' answers were equally formulaic—most would choose a goal from some final, then lean back slightly against the sofa or chair, wearing an expression of fondly recalling a glorious moment. In either an excited or composed tone, they would say, "...That really was the most important goal of my life. Yes, because it brought us a championship..."

None of those answers had ever surprised me. In fact, the moment I asked the question, I already knew the answer. I knew which goal they would choose, because I knew them inside and out.

The purpose of this question was never really to let readers and viewers understand a player's inner thoughts. It was simply to give these stars an opportunity to relive the highlights of their careers before the media. It was an unspoken understanding between interviewer and interviewee, as well as a small reward that kept these stars willing to sit obediently through the interviewer's barrage of probing questions.

Ask that question, and both host and guest would be happy.

I knew Hu Lai had scored many goals. Some had been important, some spectacular, and his answer should have been among them. I already had several candidates in mind. I swore on my professional integrity that his final answer ought to be one of those.

But what I hadn't expected was that Hu Lai's eventual answer completely caught me off guard.

He told me that, to him, the most important, most meaningful, and most unforgettable goal was not one of the 761 goals he had scored in his career. It was a goal that had never been included in any statistics. It had not even happened in a match, but in training.

That answer astonished me, and I hurriedly pressed him: "A goal in training? I can't understand why you would say that..."

Even now, I still remembered Hu Lai's answer, as well as the vivid expression on his face when he said it—I had seen similar expressions on the faces of players recalling the highlights of their careers, but what they spoke of were usually decisive goals in important matches. Only Hu Lai, that efficient goal-scoring machine, had not chosen any of the 761 goals he had scored before even ending his career. He had not chosen any of the candidates I remembered. Instead, he chose a goal from training.

That goal seemed to be one of the glorious moments of his life.

He said, "Because that goal opened the door to a new world for me."

—Raymond Rene, renowned sports journalist and contributor to world-class media outlets such as Football Illustrated.

Excerpted from the Hu Lai chapter of The Striker, which won the Vichy Sports Book Award.

The previously boisterous Dongchuan Middle School stadium fell into an eerie silence.

Almost everyone's eyes were wide and their mouths hung open, as though they had witnessed something utterly unbelievable.

There was no need for "as though."

They had witnessed something utterly unbelievable.

Hu Lai—the rookie everyone knew, the guy who could do nothing except mess around. During special training just now, he had unleashed an absolutely jaw-dropping bicycle kick against the combined defense of the school team's two main center backs, sending the football into the goal guarded by the school team's starting goalkeeper.

If they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, it would have been like barging into a police station and telling the officers that mermaids had kidnapped you. It would only make people laugh.

Li Zhiqun, who had been pressing his tongue against his teeth, was so startled by the sight that he couldn't hold it in. A sharp whistle burst from his mouth.

It seemed to be the call that awakened everyone present. More whistles immediately rang out from all around the stands and sidelines. The boys stuck their fingers in their mouths and whistled furiously, expressing their explosive excitement over Hu Lai's goal in that way.

The girls sent cheers and screams soaring into the sky.

Everyone came alive, and thunderous cheers erupted around the pitch.

"Holy shit!!"

"What did I just see?! What did I just see?! A bicycle kick?! Did I see that right?!"

"That was insane—!"

"This Hu Lai... he's amazing!"

Li Qingqing clapped hard, her face blooming with the brightest smile.

Song Jiajia stood beside her. He turned his head and looked around, somewhat bewildered by the wildly excited boys and girls. Every one of them wore an exhilarated expression.

These were the same people who had once laughed at Hu Lai, watching his "performance" with curious, novelty-seeking looks.

But now, they all seemed to have become Hu Lai's fans.

It was as if they had not come here to laugh at Hu Lai at all, but had spent two days waiting for this moment—waiting for Hu Lai to leap into the air and score with a bicycle kick.

He had once told Hu Lai that making a fool of himself and being laughed at also counted as being famous, in a sense. After all, for people like them, wasn't that the only way to draw everyone's attention?

But now... his deskmate had actually become a celebrity without making a fool of himself or being laughed at!

These people cheered for him, showering him with screams and applause.

As Hu Lai's deskmate, Song Jiajia found the current scene hard to adjust to.

His gaze swept in a circle, taking in the entire jubilant scene before finally landing on Li Qingqing beside him. There was no joy on his face, only confusion and shock. He could not quite understand what he was seeing. Perhaps Li Qingqing could explain it to him.

The tall girl clapped along with everyone else around her, then turned and smiled at him. "Song Jiajia, it looks like your deskmate won't be playing PUBG with you."

Amid the deafening cheers and applause, Hu Lai did not get up and rush toward the stands to celebrate and receive the glory that truly belonged to him.

He lay sprawled flat on the ground, his chest heaving violently as he panted like an exhausted ox.

He had not actually checked whether the ball had gone in, but when he heard the cheers, he knew he had succeeded!

With a world-class strike, he had passed the coach's hellish special training.

Most importantly—

He!

Finally!

Could obtain!

It was time to make an appearance!

He slowly raised both arms, spread his fingers, and lifted them toward the sky, as if he were straining to push open a great door.

That door was shut tight and impossibly heavy, requiring every ounce of strength in his body to open.

Finally, when his arms were fully extended, his ten fingers, which had blocked his vision, curled back and clenched into fists, and the sight before him suddenly opened up.

At that very moment, the clouds across his field of vision seemed to be burning, while golden light swept over from the direction of the setting sun.

Someone in the cheering crowd noticed the spectacle in the sky and could not help exclaiming, "Wow! What beautiful burning clouds!"

Amid the cries of amazement, Luo Kai raised his head and stared blankly at the crimson sky.

Hu Lixin had just ridden up to the entrance of the residential complex where he worked. Instead of hurrying inside to take over his shift, he parked his electric bike by the roadside, braced himself with one foot, held the handlebars with both hands, and looked up at the sky.

Orange-red rays erupted from behind the row of towering mountains on the horizon before him, racing all the way toward the eastern sky behind him.

Like a wildfire, they swept across the heavens, leaving nothing but roiling red wherever they passed.

His colleagues standing outside the security booth, residents outside the complex gates, the parking attendants by the roadside, people inside the street-facing shops... no matter what they had been doing before, they all looked up to admire this rare sight and exclaimed in wonder.

One after another, they took out their phones, aimed them at the glowing clouds, and pressed the shutter buttons.

Under the red sky, the originally hard lines of Hu Lixin's face softened considerably.

Xie Lan glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall, then used the remote to pause the drama playing on the television before getting up and walking toward the kitchen.

Based on past experience, her son should be home before long.

It was just the right time to start cooking. She would not have to worry about the food getting cold. Though she could reheat it, some dishes simply did not taste good after being cooked more than once.

The moment Xie Lan entered the kitchen, she saw the red sky reflected in the small window beside it.

She leaned closer and craned her head outside. Through the oil-stained security bars, she was captivated by the view beyond the old apartment building.

Her gaze crossed the roof of the residential building opposite, where clothes and bedding were hanging out to dry, and stretched into the distance. Beneath the rose-gold clouds in the orange-red sky, a flock of pigeons suddenly rose up. They flew out from behind the building across from her, circled in the sunset glow for a while, then headed west together, trailing countless long shadows behind them.

Like planes performing smoke trails in a festival sky—except what they drew were shadows against the evening glow.

The sight suddenly lifted Xie Lan's spirits, as if something wonderful had happened.

Humming a tune, she drew back her gaze, walked to the stove, and turned the ignition knob on the gas burner.

With a soft puff, red-and-yellow flames sprang up, then swiftly turned blue.

The flames reflected in Xie Lan's eyes. With the corners of her lips curled up, she set the oil-filled wok on the stove. Once the oil had warmed slightly, she poured in the doubanjiang she had prepared earlier.

It sizzled and crackled as a rich aroma spread through the tiny kitchen, then drifted out through the small window beside her and flew toward the fiery-red sky.

P.S. Well, at this point, the new world I described earlier could finally be said to have opened its doors to Hu Lai, and Hu Lai had officially stepped inside.

I know plenty of people will definitely complain that the pace is too slow and the progress too slow. It has been nearly fifty chapters, and Hu Lai still has not even played in an official match.

But that was always part of my plan. I never intended for the opening to race ahead like an untamed horse, rushing straight into the professional league arc.

To me, both the football and daily-life scenes in the high school section are extremely important. That is why I want to write them slowly, write them well, and bring out what I want to portray.

At this year's Qidian annual conference, I was talking with Squid about my new book. I told him that I had once hesitated over whether to handle the school section as I had in my previous novels—quickly skipping through it in a dozen or so chapters and heading straight into the professional leagues. But after thinking it over again and again, I decided against it. I am writing the story of a boy who loves football growing step by step into a superstar. As the origin of his legend, as the starting line where a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, how could I possibly brush past it carelessly?

I told Squid that I wanted to write the school section seriously. I wanted to devote a great deal of space and vivid detail to describing the world and the people I wanted to portray: Hu Lai, whose love for football bordered on obsession; his father Hu Lixin, whose refusal to let his son play football also bordered on obsession; his mother Xie Lan, carefully maintaining the balance between her son and husband; Li Qingqing, kind, adorable, and always willing to help others, yet exceptionally gifted and incredibly capable; Song Fatty, Song Jiajia, who kept saying he disliked Hu Lai playing football but never missed a single training session or match; coach Li Ziqiang, who was not particularly likable at the moment; the genius Luo Kai... and all the characters yet to appear later.

That also includes this description of the burning clouds, the detail of Hu Lixin saluting those residents outside the security booth, the luosifen, the setup of Hu Lai's secret training base...

These people and details are the important cornerstones supporting this new world. I am painting a world out of thin air. I want everyone, after Hu Lai achieves fame and success, to see him as someone who truly existed—to look back and explore how he became famous, and what effect his past experiences had on his life. How a high school boy who loved football grew step by step into a world-class superstar through the national high school football tournament and the domestic leagues...

Then, when everyone sees these details and stories now, they will believe that he truly existed, that his success has a traceable path, and that his story is both legendary and believable.

He is not someone who sprang from a rock, with neither past nor future, suddenly shooting up like a rocket after only a few dozen thousand words and a dozen chapters, appearing out of nowhere. Readers might want to explore his past—only to find that the author never wrote it, leaving his past in that world shrouded in layers of thick fog, impossible to see clearly and utterly unclear.

A person like that would have a murky background, comrades!

As I said in the preface, I know choosing to write an alternate football world like this is a risk, and the results may not be very good. So I have also let go of my obsession with results—or at least, I am no longer putting them first. Unlike before, when I was always thinking about how to create conflict and suspense within the opening chapters to hook readers.

This time, I only want to write a good story and build a good world. So even if the opening is slow-paced, I will stick to writing it this way. Just as I said in the preface, I am going to write willfully.

At the very least, I have been quite happy writing it so far. Though I am still writing slowly, that is because I am weighing every word and phrase and putting my whole heart into it.

When I wrote this chapter, I felt an especially strong sense of accomplishment. It took me half a day to write nearly three thousand characters, but when I reached the end, I was very happy. It was as if I were standing by a window myself, looking at the red and golden burning clouds outside, feeling cheerful and wanting to hum a song.

It was as if I had traveled from in front of my computer into the world I created myself.

That must be what they call creative passion...

I hope everyone can feel my enthusiasm through my words, and I hope you will like it.

Lastly, once again, I solemnly ask everyone for recommendation votes!

Thank you!