Before posting on Weibo, he took a look at the general public reaction. People really were dragging him into this.
"..."
"Does this have something to do with Zhang Kuang's Weibo post?"
"Zhang Kuang only posted the day before yesterday that the Football Association was taking money, and now someone's already been locked up?"
"They weren't taken in today. The news was announced today. They might have been in custody for ages, and it was only reported today."
"That's way too fast! Zhang Kuang only posted that two days ago!"
"You think the authorities only started investigating after reading his Weibo? They must have been investigating for ages. Zhang Kuang's post just blew the lid off. They couldn't keep it covered anymore."
"If that's really what happened, Zhang Kuang's move was absolutely savage. He took down an entire association single-handedly?"
"Don't talk nonsense. This has nothing to do with Zhang Kuang. Those people had problems of their own. Zhang Kuang just happened to tell the truth at that particular moment."
"The truth? So everything Zhang Kuang said was true? Paying to get into a certain team was real? The dirty tackle was real? The five-year ban being retaliation was real?"
"What do you think? They've already been locked up. You tell me whether it's true."
"..."
The discussion quickly shifted from shock to anger and sympathy. Countless football fans began to reassess what Zhang Kuang had gone through. The young man they had questioned, doubted, and even mocked had actually been a victim from beginning to end.
"So everything Zhang Kuang said before was true? His dad paid two hundred thousand to get him into a certain team? Someone deliberately fouled him, then he got kicked out for fighting? The association banned him for five years out of retaliation?"
"I even cursed him back then, saying he had no sense of the bigger picture and didn't care about the greater good. Looking back, I was a real piece of shit."
"..."
On social media, the topics "Who drove Zhang Kuang out of the country?" and "Zhang Kuang's revenge against a certain association has arrived" rapidly gathered steam, with views on related discussions surpassing several hundred million in just a few hours.
Countless people began digging deep into Zhang Kuang's experiences back home, trying to piece together the truth that had been covered up.
Zhang Kuang skimmed these reactions and was left utterly dumbfounded. He had no choice but to post his second Weibo:
"Two pieces of news just shocked me. The first was that the higher-ups of a certain association had been arrested. The second was that public opinion back home actually claimed my revenge had led to their arrests.
After hearing those two pieces of news, all I can say is that I only wanted to munch on some melon and watch the show, but somehow I ended up watching myself? The star of the second story was actually me?
I'm honestly speechless about this. Yes, my name is Zhang Kuang. I'm the Zhang Kuang you're all discussing. I have only three reasons for posting this:
First, I applaud those people's arrests. I've wanted those bastards arrested for ages.
Second, let me debunk a rumor. Some people say they were arrested because I reported them out of revenge. This is a complete rumor, slander, something conjured out of thin air.
The people spreading rumors had better watch out. I have an agency now, and I have a legal team. If this legal team really gets moving, it can send out three thousand legal staff. Keep spreading rumors and slandering me, and watch out, because my three thousand legal staff will sue you to death."
At this point, Zhang Kuang suddenly laughed. Bringing this time-transcending bit of mischievous humor into the present felt rather amusing.
"Third, I saw people saying that now these people have been arrested, I should be able to return to the national team. Let me tell you: impossible.
There are two reasons. First, the new association members won't dare use me, because nobody would dare use someone who's caused trouble before and can't be controlled.
Second, I won't trust anyone in this association. Even if the current leaders have been arrested, this place will still be as rotten as a cesspit for the next ten or twenty years. It's beyond saving.
So those hoping I'll return to the national team should stop harboring illusions. You can call me unpatriotic and say I have no collective spirit. I'll accept it all.
But in an environment like this, even if I won the Ballon d'Or, I couldn't save it. These weak shoulders of mine can't carry hundreds of millions of tons of rotten sludge, so I'd rather bear the negative labels of being unpatriotic and having no sense of collective honor than go anywhere near it.
I hope everyone can understand and support me. If you really can't understand or support me, then forget it. You can unfollow me, or drag me out for a round of abuse every now and then.
That's it. I'll keep munching melon and watching the show, but please don't drag me into it."
It was easy enough to imagine how enormous a reaction Zhang Kuang's Weibo post would provoke, wasn't it?
First, he had completely severed his ties with the domestic football scene. Second, he had disparaged a certain association to the utmost. Third, his absolute resolve made some people deeply uncomfortable.
There was no need to recount what people online said about Zhang Kuang. Those who loved him loved him to death, those who hated him hated him to death, and those cursing him wanted to curse him to death...
Time flew, and January 26 arrived. During this period, apart from making sure he returned to Paris every day to continue his cultivation endeavors, Zhang Kuang also worked on getting along with his teammates, especially the captain and several of the wingers and forwards.
The wingers and the captain were all key people for providing him with assists, so he at least needed to build good relationships with them within the team.
And it wasn't just those few. He needed to get along with everyone else too, or at least maintain a harmonious atmosphere with everyone.
So treating his teammates to a feast at Chinese restaurants in Paris was another thing he had been doing over the past few days, taking the team to experience different styles of food, wine, and culture.
There was just one thing: Zhang Kuang had never been particularly enthusiastic about training. But his teammates couldn't really say much. After all, it was enough that he was formidable on the pitch. He completed everything the coach required, and he met or even exceeded every benchmark in the team's tests. That left everyone with nothing to say.
All they could do was feel jealous. Why?
Was it really just talent? Zhang Kuang casually went through the motions and surpassed everyone, while the others worked diligently and conscientiously yet still lagged far behind.
"Zhang, interested in beautiful women? I've got a party lined up. Want to come have some fun?" Once everyone had drunk enough, they naturally loosened up. Sure enough, vice-captain Hengbart came over to put the invitation to Zhang Kuang.
Zhang Kuang paused. As an immortal cultivator, he certainly wouldn't turn away members of the opposite sex, but...
He didn't want to join that kind of free-for-all. Although he had a physique immune to all poisons, being too promiscuous would hurt his image down the line.
He could get adventurous in private on his own, but he couldn't get adventurous with a whole crowd.
"Old Heng, if there are any young, pretty ones, you can introduce them to me individually. But I don't do those group parties. I'm afraid I'll make tomorrow's headlines."
"Oh, you little rascal, you're that cautious? Then why do you dare play around one-on-one?"
"One-on-one is romance. In a group, it's a scandal. Brother Old Heng, I do have to care about my image a little. It might collapse someday in the future, but until then, I should at least keep it up a bit."
"Haha... I like you, kid. We don't do group parties either. Everyone just has a few drinks together, then the rest depends on how each person feels. After that, you can take someone home. Understand?"
"Oh, so that's how it works. Sure, sure."
"Haha, tomorrow night, then. There's an arts party in the 6th Arrondissement. It's a party for plenty of people from the cultural arts and the sporting arts. I'll take you."
"Ooh, all right."
That evening, after Hengbart brought Zhang Kuang to the party, something extraordinary happened. Zhang Kuang attracted women like a lump of honey. It wasn't merely that he was handsome, but... not only was he good-looking, he also had a way with words, always making the women laugh and delighting them endlessly.
Why could Zhang Kuang make the girls roar with laughter? Because he was educated. Basic education in the West was lousy, and the basic education of those footballers and artist girls was even worse.
So Zhang Kuang could talk about everything from the origins of the girls' surnames to the histories of their ancestors, then move on to their star signs and how those shaped their personalities, and so on.
The key was that when Zhang Kuang complimented someone, he wasn't like those crude footballers, who could only offer stiff phrases about how pretty someone was, what impressive tits she had, how sexy she was, how perky, how plump, or how slim.
He would praise a voluptuous, sexy woman as a dreamlike beauty from a French country estate in late autumn, bathed in the rising morning sun, a faint golden halo lingering around her, her bright eyes clear yet touched with hazy allure, her figure gentle and gracefully poised, the romance and sensuality in her very bones making her a beauty from a dream that could never be found in the mortal world.
Then he would praise the slender women, saying their ancestors must have been Heroes, gods of battle, because only with ancestors bearing such genes would the blood and vital energy throughout their bodies burn so readily, burning their figures into such perfect proportions.
Then he would praise...
How could these women, who dealt with rough men every day, possibly withstand Zhang Kuang's methods? He had simply bewitched them out of their senses. Then one bold girl accidentally twisted and fell into Zhang Kuang's arms, taking the opportunity to give him a squeeze.
The women around them all saw the outline her hand revealed. These "artistic women," who understood only primal desire and an art they themselves couldn't clearly explain, all reacted as if they had been injected with chicken blood.
Then four women actually wanted to go home with Zhang Kuang to see "his cat that could do backflips." Quite a few team captains and influential dressing-room figures were attending the party, and Zhang Kuang's ferocity left them repeatedly stunned.
Lyon's Jérémy Toulalan hooked an arm around Hengbart's neck and demanded in bewilderment, "Hengbart, did you bring this kid here to cause trouble? He took all the best ones away by himself. How are the rest of us supposed to have any fun?"
Hengbart was speechless too, but he could only steel himself and defend Zhang Kuang.
"Jérémy, and all you brothers. Picking up women is just like being on the pitch. Whoever has the most ability wins their favor. None of us here could beat Chinese Zhang, so we have to accept defeat. What, are you sore losers here just like on the football pitch? If you can't take losing, don't play."
"Oh, shit, that damned Chinese Zhang!"
"..."