Chapter 20: Is It Natural to Be So Reticent?

"You were just practicing interval sprints, right?" He Chaoyue pointed at Wei Lai and asked.

Wei Lai nodded. "That's right!"

"Ten sets?"

Wei Lai blinked, rubbing his chin. "I didn't keep a close count, but that sounds about right. I was just starting to break a sweat; it was basically a warm-up!"

"A warm-up?" He Chaoyue stared at him. "Ten sets? A warm-up? Not an exhaustion run?"

"You get exhausted after only ten sets?"

This was a question, delivered with genuine confusion and disbelief. After a moment, He Chaoyue watched the other boy scratch his head. "Maybe? Ten sets should be an exhaustion set, I suppose!"

"What's your name?" He Chaoyue asked.

"Wei Lai! U15 Class B!"

"At how many sets do you hit exhaustion?"

"I don't know! But I'm still a while away from the anaerobic endurance phase!"

"Class B practices anaerobic endurance?"

"Occasionally, I guess. I'm not really sure!"

He Chaoyue looked at Wei Lai. "Can I train with you?"

"Sure, but... if you can't keep up, don't force it. You'll end up throwing up!" Wei Lai warned with good intentions.

"Huh?" He Chaoyue frowned, tilting her head back slightly. Her ponytail flicked twice, seemingly expressing her internal dissatisfaction. "Don't worry, I have confidence in my physical fitness!"

Wei Lai shrugged and took off running. He Chaoyue gritted her teeth and immediately followed.

...

Outside, it was drizzling, but the dormitory was quiet. The Class A dormitories were better equipped, housing two people to a room. Yang Fan was silently packing his luggage.

Of course, he wasn't being expelled; he was being demoted. Following yesterday's incident, he had received a formal reprimand from the school, and "Old Man Chen" had sent him to Class B to reflect on his actions.

However, Yang Fan had no regrets. He simply didn't like that shifty-eyed guy—he was just like his name, "Fan Jian." Even though he had been sent to the Class B squad, Yang Fan still retained his Class A status and could be promoted back at any time, so he wasn't worried. Or perhaps, having caused so much trouble over the years, he had long since become immune to the consequences.

Looking at the empty bed across from his, Yang Fan muttered, "Old He, your 'old man' is away for a bit, so keep a low profile. Once I get back, I'll settle the score for you!"

Just as Yang Fan stood up, the dormitory door was kicked open with a loud bang.

"What the hell!" Yang Fan was startled. He turned his head and immediately assumed a defensive stance.

"Hey! What kind of monster are you!"

He Chaoyue was leaning against the doorframe, hunched over. She looked like a drowned rat, her elegant long hair disheveled and sticking to her forehead like strands of seaweed. She looked utterly wretched.

"Old He?" Yang Fan recognized her by her clothes and rushed over. "What happened to you?"

He Chaoyue’s face was deathly pale. She was sticking her tongue out, gasping for air, her chest heaving violently. With every breath, one could almost hear the wheezing of her lungs. She pointed tremblingly toward the corner of the dorm, her lips moving.

"What?" Yang Fan asked urgently. "Speak up!"

"Throw... throw... bucket! Give... give me... the bucket!"

Yang Fan dashed over and handed her the trash can. He Chaoyue clutched the bucket and collapsed to the floor, retching uncontrollably.

"Ugh... Ugh... Ugh... *cough, cough*... Ugh..."

Yang Fan was stunned. "Old He... what on earth were you doing this morning?"

Back in the Class B dormitory, Wei Lai was brushing his teeth. He glanced toward the Class A dormitories and thought to himself, "Should... be fine, right? It was obvious she was just pushing herself too hard. I told her not to follow! Sigh... some people just don't know when to quit."

Shaking his head, Wei Lai continued washing up.

...

"Hello everyone, my name is Yang Fan. I'll be training with you starting today. Please look after me!"

At the front of the Class B squad, Yang Fan stared at the group and introduced himself loudly. Many were surprised by Yang Fan's arrival. Given yesterday's incident, it was clear the kid had been sent to Class B to reflect.

But Yang Fan’s arrival made life difficult for Shen Haoxuan. He had just secured a spot in the starting lineup, and now it was going to be taken away!

"Yang Fan will be training with us for the foreseeable future. Of course, he will also represent the Weili Football School U15-B team in the Future Star Cup!"

Hearing head coach Zhao Xiaotang’s announcement, the hope in Shen Haoxuan’s heart finally died.

Yang Fan looked at him with a grin and said, "Brother, don't be discouraged! If you take me down, you'll be the starter—and you might even make it back to Class A as a starter!"

*Smack!*

Zhao Xiaotang gave Yang Fan a sharp flick to the forehead and glared at him. "Don't be a smart-aleck. You're here to reflect!"

Yang Fan rubbed the back of his head and nodded immediately. "Mission accepted!"

Zhao Xiaotang shook his head. "Back to the ranks!"

Yang Fan walked to the formation, eyes firm and focused, taking his place at the end of the first row on the left. And right next to him was Wei Lai!

"Classmate Wei!" Yang Fan blinked. "You’re the one who turned Old He into that ghost of a person, aren't you?"

"Huh?" Wei Lai turned his head in surprise.

"This morning!" Yang Fan said with a grin. "Old He came back clutching a trash can and puking his guts out!"

"So she really did throw up!" Wei Lai grinned. "I told her not to follow, but she insisted. That’s not on me!"

Yang Fan replied, "That's just how she is—stubborn. If you tell her not to follow, she’ll insist on doing it anyway!"

"But seriously, what did you do? That’s the first time I’ve ever seen Old He in such a pathetic state."

Wei Lai turned his head. "Didn't she tell you?"

Yang Fan shook his head. "Not a word!"

Wei Lai sighed. "We just did a few sets of anaerobic endurance."

Yang Fan: "???"

"A few sets? Of anaerobic endurance?" Yang Fan gaped, puzzled. "You count that in sets? Isn't it supposed to be a one-and-done deal where you just drop dead?"

Wei Lai realized that Yang Fan was the type who became familiar with people instantly. He was carefree, seemingly hot-headed, but easy to get along with. Of course, provided you didn't provoke him. Moreover, the guy was a chatterbox.

"Old Wei, what’s your thigh circumference? You’re hiding these legs? If I had these, I’d be showing them off everywhere!"

"How did you train those thighs? Teach me, will you?"

"And how did you train your stamina? Let me tag along next time? I’m different from Old He; I’m not a stubborn mule. If I can't keep up, I’ll stop!"

"Old Wei! Old Wei!"

Wei Lai felt helpless, as if a fly were buzzing incessantly around his ears.

"With your physique, those foreigners would be sent flying if you bumped into them!"

Wei Lai turned. "Foreigners?"

Yang Fan nodded. "Yeah, we played a youth team from Hamburger SV in the Korea Invitational. Old He was getting tossed around like a ball up front, and we still lost to them in the end."

"Where was the gap?" Wei Lai asked.

"The midfield!" Yang Fan shrugged. "We were suppressed in the midfield, couldn't hold onto the ball, and the whole team got pinned back."

"When we played long balls, Old He kept getting knocked over. He’s got a great shot, but technically, he’s not as good as Xiang Ming... you know Xiang Ming, right? That guy from Green Grass Lions!" Yang Fan's chatterbox seemed to have been opened, and he kept spitting out words during the warm-up.

"Honestly, that match was lost because the midfield was overrun. Our Class A player, Weng Shaojie, is decent, but there’s still a gap between him and Chen Shaojie from Guangfa. If we could get Xiang Ming in and form a front trident, we’d kill those foreigners!"

Yang Fan suddenly sighed. "But it’s hopeless. Even if we score a few, it wouldn't be enough to cover for Fan Jian’s leaks. Our team's foreign coach is also out of his mind, playing Fan Jian as a lone defensive midfielder and using that outdated diamond midfield. Not to mention Fan Jian doesn't have the skill for it, but just setting up that tactic means we’ve already lost half the battle!"

"A lone defensive midfielder! That’s supposed to be a beast of a position! Looking at the history of Chinese football, you can barely count a handful of them on your fingers, and truly elite ones? None!"

Yang Fan shrugged. "So, for the defensive midfield position, we don't have elites, so we have to fill it with numbers! Right, Old Wei?"

"By the way, I’ve been doing all the talking, why aren't you saying anything?"

"Old Wei, right, what position do you play?"

Wei Lai: "Midfield."

Yang Fan: "Huh?"

Wei Lai: "Defensive midfielder. A defensive anchor."

Yang Fan: "......"

Wei Lai turned his head and said faintly, "Why did you stop? Are you naturally not a fan of talking?"