Cozy Red Wine and the Youth Under the Scorching Sun

"Sir, would you like red wine or a beverage?"

At Buenos Aires International Airport in Argentina, aboard a flight bound for China.

Director Zhu was lounging comfortably in his first-class seat, enjoying the service of the beautiful flight attendant.

"Red wine, please. A beautiful lady and red wine are both more conducive to sleep!"

After all, Director Zhu had graduated from a prestigious university, so his English was quite good.

He had no trouble at all communicating with the beautiful flight attendant.

Watching the perfect curve of her hips as she turned away, Director Zhu leisurely closed his eyes.

But then, as if recalling something, Director Zhu took out his phone.

He dialed a familiar number.

"Hello! Haha, Editor Li? It's me, Old Zhu!"

"Yes, yes, yes! I'm in Argentina right now. This time, I found a highly promising future star for China. Haha, yes, it's that naturalization plan our Football Association is working on!"

"I brought you quite a few local specialties. Have your driver come to the airport at nine tomorrow morning to pick them up!"

"Haha! Do I seem like such a practical person?"

"Just report it as it is. His name is Hua Chengyu, the most famous young Chinese-Argentine player here, Boca Juniors' genius player!"

"Yes, yes, yes! I think this naturalization plan is what will let our national team break out of Asia in the future!"

"It's not hard. If I can't endure even this little hardship for Chinese football, can I still call myself a football man?"

"Haha, mm-hmm, mm-hmm! That's it, then. Once I get off the plane, I'll have the office send you the materials. Give it a bit more publicity—after all, this is a matter of bringing glory to the country."

"Don't worry about the publicity budget. When have I ever shortchanged you?"

"Yeah, I searched more than twenty clubs before finding such a good prospect. Sigh, our Football Association really spent big this time—more than a million thrown at it. You know how those damn foreigners are, only interested in money. They kept saying he was their star player and refused to sell no matter what. In the end, after I visited them three times and wasted so much breath, I finally got him!"

"Haha, good, good. I'll see how you write about me. Oh, and you have to accept those local specialties! It's the rule, and it's also a token of my appreciation! The Football Association's internal reshuffle is coming up soon, so no matter what, you have to give me a strong start!"

After that thoroughly Chinese-style exchange, Director Zhu finally received his red wine.

It truly was first-class service.

The wine was almost excessively vivid in color!

Against the setting sun outside the window, it looked even more like blood dripping from the hearts of Chinese fans.

He drained it in one gulp, put on his eye mask, and fell asleep comfortably in the lingering warmth of the sunset.

Meanwhile!

Li Feng sat alone in economy class, staring out the window!

The next day, after morning training had ended.

Xie Luotuo sat down in his chair with an excited look on his face!

Su Bai!

He had really struck gold. That kid's performance yesterday hadn't been a fluke—that kind of cut inside was real!

A perfect cut inside, a perfect shot!

However, his joy was short-lived.

"What? That kid won't sign?"

After hearing Almeida's report, Xie Luotuo failed to react for a moment.

"What is that kid thinking? Why won't he sign?"

"He said the contract is too long. He doesn't really have any demands when it comes to salary."

"Damn it, of course he wouldn't be interested in money!"

Remembering Su Bai's nickname, Mascot, Xie Luotuo could only feel helpless.

Although the youth team contract would not prevent him from using Su Bai, once Su Bai entered the first team, changing the contract was already a longstanding Boca rule.

It would put both the player and the club at ease.

In all his life, this was the first time he had ever encountered someone who did not love money.

"Forget it, leave it for now. We'll talk about it after some time!"

After all, contracts were the club manager's responsibility, and he could not be bothered to waste his energy on them.

What lay before him now was Boca's bitter rival in the next league round—Tucuman Athletic.

Boca Juniors were undoubtedly a superpower in the Argentine Primera División.

But aside from River Plate, there was one team that was Boca Juniors' most troublesome opponent.

Tucuman Athletic!

This venerable club, founded in 1902, already had over a century of history.

Although Tucuman Athletic had enjoyed a glorious period in the Campeonato de Primera División era (1931–1966).

After that, however, Tucuman Athletic had remained stuck in the middle of the Argentine Primera División table.

But!

Compared to their unremarkable record, Tucuman Athletic had an exceptionally fierce nickname.

Blood Butchers!

That was right—the team was best known for its style of play.

Unlike Argentina's popular technical style, Tucuman Athletic had always maintained a savage, wolf-pack-like approach.

In the 1987–1988 season.

Boca Juniors faced Tucuman Athletic, a team with nothing left to play for, in the final round, needing only a draw to win the title.

It was a match every Boca fan would never forget.

Over ninety minutes, both sides put on a frenzied display of fouls.

The five red cards and seven yellow cards shown set an Argentine Primera División record for cards.

Boca's starting striker, Ilgas, even had his lower leg broken by a direct tackle from a Tucuman Athletic defender.

And the final result of that match left everyone stunned.

Tucuman Athletic, despite playing with one man fewer than Boca, saw their captain Rio Serna score a stunning long-range strike in stoppage time.

That one long-range strike cost Boca the title.

Thus, Tucuman Athletic naturally became Boca Juniors' new sworn enemy.

Over the long years that followed, whenever the two teams met, red cards and injuries were unavoidable.

And the round after next would be the Superclásico against River Plate.

Xie Luotuo truly had no idea how to arrange the next two league matches.

They could not lose to Tucuman Athletic!

River Plate?

Losing to them was even less acceptable.

But neither of those opponents was easy to deal with.

Especially Tucuman Athletic, with their ferocious defense.

His possession-based, penetrating style feared exactly this kind of team—one that pressed high and tackled viciously.

With a troubled expression, Xie Luotuo sat down in his chair and began studying the lineup for the next league match.

Beside him, Almeida could only shake his head helplessly as he watched his head coach fret.

Damn Argentine Primera División association. This schedule was practically driving Boca into a dead end.

It was already the middle of the season; every match could affect who ultimately won the title.

Meanwhile!

On the other side of the club.

After casually grabbing something to eat in the team cafeteria, Su Bai returned to the youth team dormitory.

He had spent all yesterday afternoon dealing with medical examinations and such, leaving him no time to move dorms.

After glancing at the dormitory he had lived in for a month, Su Bai swiftly packed his belongings and left the familiar place without looking back.

Barrios was lying on his bed, chatting about lewd topics with his newly found college student girlfriend.

Then the dormitory door suddenly moved.

A familiar figure walked in!

At that moment, Su Bai also saw his new first-team roommate.

"Hi!"

He greeted him with a smile.

Su Bai placed his luggage on the empty bed beside Barrios!

But before Barrios could react, Su Bai swiftly changed into a set of training clothes.

"Where are you going?"

In weather this hot, where was this guy going?

Barrios was completely baffled by Su Bai's actions.

"To train!"

"This..."

And just like that, Barrios could only watch helplessly as Su Bai walked out of the room.

He hurriedly leaned over the windowsill and looked toward the training ground.

Very soon.

A lone black-haired youth appeared beneath the blazing sun.

Bang!

Bang!

Wave after wave of scalp-tingling shots rang out across the training ground.

This kid.

PS: New author, new book—I'm nervously begging all you big shots for some monthly and recommendation votes. Writing football fiction solo is scary. Please support me!