Chapter 107: Stuck

The team doctor glanced helplessly at Jian Ying, who knew her words made little sense. This doctor was the team physician for the Yunjiatianyu first team—while his other skills might be modest, his expertise in diagnosing sports injuries was excellent. Such a severe injury could not be misdiagnosed.

“Why did this happen…” Jian Ying’s eyes immediately welled up with tears.

If Beckham’s injury before the 2002 World Cup made football fans worldwide aware of the metatarsal bones in the foot, Ronaldo’s injury enlightened them all on the gravity of an anterior cruciate ligament tear.

A recovery time of at least six months to a year was necessary, with the added risk of surgery. Such operations could not yet be performed well domestically and had to be done in Europe, followed by a lengthy rehabilitation period. For professional male players, this meant missing one or two seasons and facing long-term risks of re-injury. For a young female player still in her developmental phase, the consequences were even more profound.

Professional male footballers with such injuries usually had their clubs cover the surgery costs. Even if recovery took years, it only delayed their earning potential. But Ning Xi? Even if Yunjiatianyu showed some compassion, and the generous owner Pei Wei covered all expenses, a year or two of recovery meant she would be about fifteen when healed—missing crucial years of training and growth. The foundation she had painstakingly built might vanish entirely.

For young players, their skills are not yet fixed. A once-talented youth could become utterly ordinary after a severe injury. Ning Xi, who had only received formal training for two or three years despite playing since childhood, risked losing all she had learned during a year or two without playing.

“Let’s not dwell on this now.” Jian Ying wiped her tears hastily, trying to appear less distressed. Turning to Ning Xi, she smiled gently, “Rest well and bear with it… the hospital is just ahead.”

At that moment, Ding Yu patted his pockets and suddenly exclaimed, “Oh no, did you bring any money?”

Poor Ding Yu, though wealthy, rarely carried much cash. Meals and lodging were covered by the club and school, so who would carry large sums? He had no habit of carrying cards either. Today was just to watch the match and then head back to Yunji. He only had a pitiful few dozen yuan on him; the rest of his cash was packed with his luggage.

Jian Ying and the team doctor shared the same awkward expression. Like Ding Yu, they had no cash on hand, as they planned to return to Yunji after the game. Who would carry lots of cash on them? Everything was packed away with luggage.

Even the usually thorough-minded Lade had overlooked this detail—perhaps a common flaw among those used to communal living, much like Long Bisheng’s father, Long Yuyun, who never carried money when going out.

“I’ll call them to send money quickly,” Ding Yu said, pulling out his phone. After all, they needed to get Ning Xi admitted first, which required paying registration fees, deposits, and other miscellaneous charges. His scant cash wouldn’t cover any of it.

“No need, I have money,” Long Bisheng, who had been silent till then, suddenly spoke up. All eyes turned to him. He wore a plain T-shirt, clearly cheap street-market goods, and half-length shorts. He only had one wallet, so how much money could he possibly have?

“Bisheng, don’t bother taking out just a few dozen yuan; it won’t be enough,” Ding Yu smiled wryly. The boy probably thought hospital expenses wouldn’t be high.

“I really have money,” Long Bisheng repeated, then said, “Teacher Jian, you help support Ning Xi; I’ll handle the money.”

Jian Ying uttered a soft “Oh” and carefully lifted Ning Xi’s leg. After Long Bisheng left, she sat down, placing Ning Xi’s leg over her own, eyes fixed on him to see how much he could produce.

Feeling the gaze of four pairs of eyes, Long Bisheng’s face flushed slightly with embarrassment. He turned toward the back of the bus, digging into his pocket. Moments later, he returned holding a card.

“That’s your living expenses card, right? That should be enough. Driver, is there an ICBC branch near the hospital?” Ding Yu’s sharp eyes recognized the Industrial and Commercial Bank of China card. As long as there were a few thousand yuan, initial expenses could be settled. Ding Yu trusted that the club wouldn’t simply abandon them; even if they did, the coaches could chip in for the surgery.

“There’s a branch and an ATM nearby. You can withdraw money directly,” the driver said without turning his head.

Ding Yu nodded. Long Bisheng handed him the card, saying, “Coach, you withdraw the money. The password is 890821. I’ll take Ning Xi to the hospital.”

“By the way, where did you get this card? You carry it on you? Aren’t you afraid of losing it?” Ding Yu asked, noticing the card was slightly damp. He assumed it was sweat from Long Bisheng’s hand and didn’t think much of it.

Long Bisheng’s face showed embarrassment again. After discovering the card held a million yuan, he felt it should be kept somewhere safe. Coming to Beijing for the match, he didn’t trust leaving it in the dormitory—no one had been there for nearly a month. What if it got lost? So he brought it with him. At the guesthouse, feeling insecure, he bought two pairs of underwear with pockets and hid the card inside. That was the safest place, ensuring it wouldn’t fall out even while playing.

A card kept inside underwear for nearly a month would be more than just slightly damp. If Ding Yu had sniffed it, it might have smelled unpleasant.

Though honest, Long Bisheng wasn’t honest enough to reveal this to Jian Ying and Ning Xi. It would be awkward. So he didn’t answer Ding Yu’s question, and Ding Yu didn’t press further.

The bus soon arrived near the Third Hospital affiliated with Beijing Medical University. As the vehicle stopped, Ding Yu jumped off and sprinted toward the direction the driver had indicated. Long Bisheng carefully carried Ning Xi down the bus and headed into the hospital.

Jian Ying registered first. Ding Yu was quick too, promptly withdrawing cash and rushing into the hospital. Although the ATM was close, the fact that Ding Yu managed to withdraw money right as Jian Ying finished registration was likely the fastest he had ever run in his life.

After paying a deposit of 1,000 yuan, Long Bisheng carried Ning Xi with the others to her hospital room. Those involved in football knew that conservative treatment was useless for ACL tears. Surgery was the only option—ideally in Europe, for better and faster recovery.

It must be said that with the professionalization of football, Chinese football had matured in many areas, including player treatment methods, which were gradually aligning with European standards. Gone were the days when coaches spouted nonsense like “the best remedy for injury is to keep playing until it naturally disappears.” Li Huajun, Yunjiatianyu’s coach, suffered from such outdated thinking. Once considered one of the world’s six most promising stars alongside Van Basten and others, he was trapped in a cycle of recurring injuries post-25, achieving little before retirement.

Thus, Ning Xi was only admitted to the Beijing Medical University’s Third Hospital to prevent further deterioration. Once contact was made with European specialists, she would be sent there for surgery.

“Long Bisheng, come out here,” Ding Yu called after settling Ning Xi. He pulled Long Bisheng out of the ward.

“This is your card. I withdrew 2,000 yuan,” Ding Yu said, handing the card back, then asked seriously, “I want you to explain—how does your card have a million yuan? Where did you get so much money?”

When Ding Yu inserted the card into the ATM, he was shocked by the balance—one million yuan! Although Ding Yu’s annual salary was tens of thousands, and his family savings were similarly substantial, Long Bisheng came from a military family and wore cheap clothes. Carrying such a sum was astonishing.

“This was left to me by Brother Li Fang before he went to Europe. He said if Uncles Maimaiti and others ran into difficulties and he couldn’t return in time, I should help them out,” Long Bisheng answered honestly.

Ding Yu, sharp as ever, immediately understood why Li Fang left such a large sum with Long Bisheng—likely to support Long Bisheng’s family. He also knew that if it were stated plainly, Long Bisheng wouldn’t accept it, so Li Fang used a softer approach.

Relieved, Ding Yu smiled and patted Long Bisheng’s shoulder. “Good thing you carried the card; otherwise, it would have been troublesome and caused delays. But you should be careful. Carrying a card with so much money in such a shallow pocket—if it falls, replacing it will be a pain.”

Long Bisheng grinned. “Coach, no worries. It won’t fall…” He glanced down the corridor to ensure no one was around, then unzipped his shorts and tucked the card back into the underwear pocket, zipping up again.

Ding Yu watched with wide eyes, finally realizing where the card had come from. He covered his mouth in shock, then quickly dropped his hand, pointing at Long Bisheng, speechless.