12: Chapter 12 This world is eager to hear stories of young achievers.

Yu Bai's team held their ground during the second session of the scrimmage.

After taking a one-goal lead, the whole team dropped back to defend, compressing their formation. The opponents circled the penalty area, crossing from the left and right, playing long diagonal balls, and pulling back for cutbacks—they tried everything, but just couldn't break through. Tanganga headed away three balls in the penalty area, Oliver Skipp blocked two long shots at the top of the arc, and Yu Bai himself blocked a shot with his body on the edge of the penalty area. The ball struck the outside of his thigh and deflected away; that muscle was still numb.

When the whistle blew, someone on the opposing team kicked the turf in frustration.

Yu Bai bent over, hands resting on his knees, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose onto his boots. It felt like someone had put a plastic bag over his chest; he couldn't catch his breath, but he heard the whistle. They had won. The second session, they had won.

Deep in his mind, the notification arrived right on cue.

[Composure 60 → 65]

Five points. Not much, but the feeling was different. It was like pouring a glass of ice water down his throat; the things that had been churning in his chest slowly settled down. It wasn't that he wasn't excited, but the excitement had been put into a container and was no longer splashing everywhere.

The third session started quickly.

The change brought by the five points of Composure was more tangible than Yu Bai had expected. Previously, when he had the ball, there was always a voice in his head urging him: "Faster, faster! Get past him, prove you're better than him." Now that voice was still there, but it had grown distant, as if someone were shouting from across the street—he could hear it, but it didn't affect his decision-making.

But they still lost. 0-1.

Goalkeeper Whiteman hesitated on a clearance and was dispossessed by the opposing striker. Oliver Skipp had to commit a tactical foul, resulting in a penalty. Harry Winks stood at the penalty spot and slotted it in steadily. 1-0; they lost the third session.

However, Yu Bai took three shots in this session. One long shot from the top of the arc went over the crossbar, one push shot inside the penalty area was brilliantly saved by the goalkeeper, and another poke shot in a scramble smashed heavily against the crossbar and bounced out. None of the three chances were clear-cut, but they all created threats. More importantly, he could clearly feel the real pressure exerted by Harry Winks, who was marking him. That guy's experience, positioning, and timing of his tackles made Yu Bai's ball handling no longer as effortless as it was in the U18s. Although he didn't fall too far behind in the flow of the game, that feeling of being "contained" by a higher-level opponent made Yu Bai clearly realize the gap—a chasm that needed to be bridged between himself and these players who could make even a brief appearance on the Premier League stage.

The whistle for the end of training blew. They lost the third session, and the entire training session was over.

Yu Bai walked to the sideline, his studs sinking into the turf, feeling soft. His legs were heavy—not sore, but heavy, as if his calves were filled with sand.

His sweat-soaked vest clung to his body, feeling a bit chilly when caught by the midday breeze.

Yu Bai followed the team toward the locker room, his mind still replaying the details of several ball-handling moments from just before.

Just then—"Ding!" The system's notification sound rang for the third time today, its presence so strong that it made Yu Bai pause for a moment.

[At 32 years old, you have just returned to participate in formal training, and the recent training intensity and results have been excellent. Reward: Ball Control +1, Tackling +1, Stamina +1]

Immediately after, that familiar light blue panel unfolded in his consciousness: [Name: Yu Bai] [Age: 32] [Speed 65, Acceleration 53, Strength 38, Ball Control 72 → 73, Passing 82, Shooting 56] [Dribbling 90, Tackling 24 → 25, Heading 28, Vision 70, Composure 65, Stamina 60 → 61] [Overall Rating 67 → 68] [Skills: Beckhams Curve (Star), Demon of Dribbling (Legend)]

Yu Bai "looked" at the panel, the corners of his mouth curling up involuntarily. Tackling +1 was better than nothing, but Stamina +1 and Ball Control +1 were solid improvements. His overall rating had also reached 68. This kind of gradual accumulation and clearly visible progress made him feel secure.

He exited the system and turned his head to look at Dylan Duncan, who was also drenched in sweat. With that lingering smile still on his face, he suddenly asked out of the blue, "Dylan, do you think... the air today is particularly sweet?"

Dylan Duncan was tilting his head back to chug a sports drink. At these words, he choked and coughed a few times, staring at Yu Bai with wide eyes as if looking at a fool. "Bro, are you okay? Are you oxygen-deprived from training? How could the air be sweet! It's more like salty; it's all the smell of sweat!"

Yu Bai looked at his bewildered face and genuine concern, and finally couldn't help but let out a low laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly. He didn't explain, just shook his head and continued walking forward with a light step. He just thought it was sweet. So what?

The VIP small dining room in the training center. The door was closed, isolating them from the noise of the lobby outside. On the table were several dishes: grilled lamb chops with mint sauce, skin crispy and meat pink inside; pan-seared sea bass drizzled with lemon butter sauce; a solid portion of Beef Wellington with golden pastry; and simple roasted vegetables and potato wedges. It wasn't luxurious, but it was hearty and substantial, a common choice for football people who needed energy and didn't have strict dietary restrictions.

The four people seated around were: Head of Youth Development John McDermott, U21 head coach Ugo Ehiogu, U18 head coach Coach McKenna, and first-team head coach Mauricio Pochettino.

Assistant coach Matt Wells originally followed them in, but with a look from Ugo Ehiogu, he silently backed out. Some discussions were not yet for someone at his level.

John McDermott cut a piece of lamb, not rushing to eat it, and spoke first: "That kid Yu Bai—management has already noticed the reports. A genius, we have no dispute on that, right?" He swept his gaze over the other three.

Ugo Ehiogu ate his fish slowly, and only after swallowing did he wipe his mouth and reply: "John, he is certainly a player with characteristics. Those feet, and that brain for finding space on the pitch, that's top-tier material. But he's not without flaws." He looked at Coach McKenna. "Coach McKenna, how tall is he? Do you have the latest data?"

"181 centimeters." Coach McKenna answered quickly. "Measured just a few days ago."

"You see," Ugo Ehiogu picked up his wine glass and took a sip, "only 17 years old, 181cm—he's definitely going to keep growing. He's too tall; speed wasn't his advantage to begin with. If he grows any taller, it might not be a good thing for the Dribbling and agility he excels at. And his defense—positioning, physical challenges—is still far off. In my U21s, he can't play as a defensive midfielder; it's too risky. I plan to let him play as an attacking midfielder or wide attacking midfielder first, integrating from the offensive end. Take it slow, he needs time to grow."

Coach McKenna nodded: "He was an attacking midfielder back at Arsenal U16. I let him try defensive midfield and right midfield just to see his potential and attitude on the defensive end. Now it seems his attitude is fine, but his potential and technique need a lot of time to train."

John McDermott swallowed his food and added: "I have more detailed information here. His family background is very good; his father's business is quite large, and his mother is the boss of an entertainment company back home. But he chose a host family himself—that's very rare."

He paused. "And, he has been receiving top-level football training since he was very young. He has had retired Premier League players as private coaches, so his fundamentals are even more solid than we imagined. More importantly, from a legal and youth training perspective, he fully meets the conditions to play for England's representative teams at all levels. His future doesn't necessarily have to be tied to Chinese National Football Team."

Mauricio Pochettino, who hadn't spoken much, waited until everyone was nearly finished eating before putting down his knife and fork. He spoke slowly, his voice carrying his characteristic, slightly raspy magnetism: "If Yu Bai proves himself in the U21 matches, should we consider... sending him out on loan?"

He looked at his three colleagues: "Just like Harry Kane back in the day. Go to the EFL League One, or even mid-to-lower table EFL Championship teams. The key isn't the League level, but consistent, high-intensity senior team match time. That's what he lacks most right now—real, professional match experience, not play-pretend in the youth teams."

He leaned forward slightly, fingers tapping the table lightly: "We all think he's a genius, and the football world today is most eager for stories of 'young success'. If we believe in him, we have to build the fastest upward path for him."

John McDermott, Ugo Ehiogu, and Coach McKenna looked at each other and saw agreement in each other's eyes. Mauricio Pochettino made sense.

Mauricio Pochettino smiled, that smile holding the decisiveness and foresight of a top coach: "Let's see how he does. If he can produce convincing performances in the August matches, I don't mind letting him come to the first team to train, or even giving him a chance to make an appearance. Then, we'll find him the most suitable place to 'level up'—perhaps the EFL Championship, perhaps another League. Of course, the premise of all this is," he looked at Coach McKenna, "his performance must be able to win my 'approval'. Coach McKenna, you can pass this on to him. Clear motivation is good for young people."

Coach McKenna smiled and agreed: "I can already imagine the expression on that kid's face when he hears you say that. It will definitely be interesting."

John McDermott also rubbed his hands together: "Then I'll have to activate my network in advance, screen well, and find him a club that fits his tactics and guarantees playing time. I'll have to sound out both the EFL Championship and EFL League One."

Ugo Ehiogu frowned, however, raising a realistic question: "Aren't you all being too optimistic? What if he can't find his rhythm at all in the U21 official matches and struggles? Pressure is a different beast compared to training matches."

John McDermott picked up his napkin, wiped his mouth, waved his hand, and said half-jokingly: "Meeting adjourned! Everyone go home, go find your moms. Problem solved!"

Ugo Ehiogu was choked up: "...John, what kind of answer is that?"

Coach McKenna smiled and patted Ugo Ehiogu on the shoulder: "Ugo, then it will be a problem for you, the U21 head coach, to solve, won't it?"

Ugo Ehiogu was stunned for a moment, then laughed, shook his head, and made a gesture of surrender: "OK, OK. I also believe that kid isn't so easily stopped by difficulties."

Having finished lunch early, Yu Bai, who was listening to the assistant coach review the morning training in the tactical room until his eyelids started fighting, naturally had no way of knowing that in that small VIP room, several big shots had already outlined a 'fast track' full of expectations and strict requirements for him.

At 2:30 PM, training officially ended. Teammates left one after another, some because they had things to do at home, others having to go back to study—you couldn't sign a professional contract without meeting the required academic grades. Dylan Duncan asked if Yu Bai was leaving; Yu Bai shook his head: "I'll practice a bit more."

The empty training field, the afternoon sun was a bit intense. Yu Bai changed his gear, dug a few balls out of the ball crate, and started extra practice for his "Beckhams Curve". Different distances, different angles, left foot, right foot... monotonous repetition, but stimulated by the system upgrade mechanism, he kicked every ball with extra seriousness.

After practicing for about twenty minutes, he stopped, walked to the sideline, picked up his phone, found the name "Linda" in his contacts, and dialed.

The phone rang for a long while before being answered. From the other end came Linda's clearly not-quite-awake, lazy, and raspy voice, with a hint of annoyance at being disturbed: "Hello... who is this?"

"It's me." Yu Bai's voice was very calm. "I need some professional football study materials. About various formations, tactics, and the responsibilities of each position—the more detailed and professional, the better. Chinese or English are both fine."

"Oh..." Linda seemed to still be half-asleep, responding vaguely without asking more or saying yes or no.

Yu Bai waited two seconds and added: "Send it to where I'm staying now by this time tomorrow. I'll send you the address later."

"Tomorrow?!" The tone on the other end of the line shot up instantly, sleepiness gone. "Are you kidding me! How could that be in time! I'll find someone to prepare it now, the fastest... it will take three days! I'll have someone send it to you in three days!"

Yu Bai heard this, didn't say anything more, and hung up the phone directly.

He wanted to get these materials as soon as possible to use that [Memory Bread]. He had a guess: the system seemed to be able to "monitor" his all-around growth. So, if he could quickly master a large amount of professional football knowledge through "Memory Bread" and improve his tactical literacy and football IQ, could it also bring some positive feedback like training improved attributes? Right now, his mind was full of becoming stronger, grabbing every opportunity he could.

Harry Winks' stimulation today was greater than he imagined. Premier League debut at 18? Is that something amazing? I, Yu Bai, am 17, and I have a system. Within this year, I must stand on the Premier League pitch! He was determined to get ahead of that annoying guy!

He flipped through his call history, scrolled down two pages, and still couldn't find a number labeled "Father"—they contacted each other far too rarely. He simply exited, found "Yu Yun" in his contacts, and dialed.

Hong Kong, past nine in the evening.

Yu Yun had just returned home after finishing a business dinner, leaning on the sofa. A young woman with a beautiful appearance and well-dressed was gently massaging his temples. The phone rang. He glanced at the screen, a flash of surprise appearing on his face. He raised a hand to signal a pause, then answered the phone.

"Oh my," Yu Yun's voice carried a smile, coming through the airwaves, "isn't this our star player Yu? The sun is rising from the west today, how come you thought of calling your old man?"

His parents divorced early in his childhood, and Yu Bai had held resentment when he was young, but he had long let it go. Now his relationship with his parents was more like friends, getting along casually, even a bit disrespectfully.

"My dad, the most handsome and richest in the world," Yu Bai leaned against the advertising hoardings on the sidelines, using sugar-coated bullets, "can you do your son a small favor?"

"Our star player Yu, please speak!"

Yu Yun laughed, his tone relaxed, "But let's agree first, you can't ask Dad to buy Arsenal! My money has a use recently."

He was half-joking and half-serious; he was truly a bit afraid that after his son was rejected by Arsenal, he would ask him to acquire the club to vent his anger. It wasn't that he couldn't afford it, but there were indeed more important uses for the funds recently.