9: Chapter 9 The coach told me to report to the U21 team.

"Normally, that would be the case."

His voice was very soft, as if he were talking about something trivial. He paused, shifting his gaze away from Chloe's face, sweeping past Michael, who was leaning back in his chair with a beer bottle raised to his lips; then past Liam, who was leaning forward, the subtle curve still hanging on the corner of his mouth like a cat waiting to watch a show.

"However, our coach told me to report to the U21s."

The voice faded.

The backyard went quiet for a moment. It wasn't the kind of awkward silence, but rather the silence of air suddenly being sucked away. The charcoal in the grill crackled, a few sparks drifting up and vanishing into the night. A car drove by in the distance, the sound of the engine approaching and then fading away.

Grandma Margaret's hand holding the teacup froze. She looked up, her cloudy eyes suddenly becoming very clear under the warm yellow light.

David's fork hung in mid-air. A piece of sliced steak was stuck on the tip, juices dripping down onto the plate. He didn't notice.

Susan covered her mouth. Her eyes curved, curling tightly as if trying to hold back something welling up.

"But!"

Chloe's voice rose by half a note. It wasn't a challenge, but the excitement of discovering a shocking secret. "Didn't you just arrive at the team? I heard from my mom that this was your first match representing Tottenham U18! The first! You only played one match! How could you possibly be called up to the U21s?"

Yu Bai looked at her. Something moved in his heart. It wasn't romantic attraction, but gratitude. A very concrete, nameable gratitude. Grateful that she asked this question, in this way, at this moment. She was like an actor who didn't know the script, yet perfectly delivered the most crucial line.

"You're lying."

Michael and Liam spoke almost simultaneously. Michael's tone was deeper, Liam's sharper, but the tone was exactly the same. Decisive, unquestionable.

Michael slammed his beer bottle onto the table. The bottom hit the wood, and foam surged out of the bottle mouth, dripping down the side.

"U21? You? Skipping levels after playing one U18 match? What do you think the Tottenham youth system is? A playground?"

Liam didn't speak, but he smiled. That smile wasn't the corners of his mouth turning up; it was his nostrils slightly flaring, a thin, oily light rising in his eyes. That light said: I'm waiting to see how you cover up this lie.

Then Emily spoke.

She hadn't said anything the whole time. From the moment Yu Bai came downstairs until now, she had been sitting quietly next to Michael, cutting steak, drinking beer, and occasionally looking up at everyone. But her eyes had been moving constantly. From Yu Bai to Michael, from Michael to Liam, from Liam to Chloe. Like a silently operating camera.

She put down her knife and fork.

The knife and fork landed on either side of the plate, arranged neatly. She picked up a napkin and wiped the corner of her mouth, her movements unhurried. Then she looked up, her gaze landing directly on Michael's face, then shifting to Liam's, and stopping.

Her voice wasn't loud, but every word was articulated clearly.

"This afternoon, Tottenham U18 played at home against Brighton U18. The final score was 6-1. Yu Bai started as a defensive midfielder. In the first half, he had 3 assists, won a penalty, and the corner kick that opened the scoring was also taken by him. All 5 goals were directly related to him."

She paused. Not to check for reactions, but to catch her breath.

"He was named Man of the Match after the game."

She paused again. This time to check for reactions.

Michael's beer bottle hung in mid-air. The mouth tilted, and a few drops of beer spilled onto his pants, which he didn't notice. The smile on Liam's face froze; he couldn't pull it back, nor could he let it go. His Adam's apple bobbed once, but nothing came out.

Emily tilted her head. She looked at the two of them with a sincere, inquisitive gaze.

"You two 'experts' who know so much about football."

She deliberately paused before the word "guys." It was a subtle pause, just enough to turn the word into a light slap in the face.

"May I ask, with performance like that from Yu Bai, what is the problem with him joining the U21s?"

The yard went quiet again.

This time it was quiet for even longer. Long enough to hear the neighbor's dog bark, long enough to hear the faint sound of charcoal collapsing in the grill, long enough to hear the 'gulp' of someone swallowing saliva.

Yu Bai stood where he was, looking at Emily.

The warm yellow light above the dining table shone on her, the light dyeing her slightly curly dark brown hair with a golden rim. Her features weren't stunning, but they were very comfortable when put together. Her shoulder lines were straight, a piece of her collarbone was exposed from the neckline of her knit sweater, and she wore a thin silver chain around her neck.

At this moment, she was looking over at him. The corners of her mouth curved slightly, very lightly. Then she winked.

It wasn't a flirtatious wink. It was the kind of wink that said, "I did you a favor, you owe me a coffee." Clean and crisp, with a hint of satisfaction from a successful prank.

Yu Bai was mentally giving her a thumbs up.

At the same time, he suddenly felt that the dark green knit sweater Emily was wearing today looked particularly good. It made her skin look very fair, and standing next to Michael, she looked like a poplar tree standing next to a tree stump.

A flower planted in cow dung.

When this thought popped into Yu Bai's head, he couldn't help it, and the corner of his mouth twitched. He quickly lowered his head, hiding that smile in the shadows.

Michael saw it.

He saw Emily wink. He also saw Yu Bai lower his head and smile. These two images collided, causing some kind of chemical reaction in his brain. His face began to flush red. Starting from his neck, the red climbed up like mercury in a thermometer. It washed over his chin, over his cheeks, all the way to his hairline. His lips moved, wanting to say something, but nothing came out. His fingers tightened on the beer bottle, and his knuckles made a cracking sound.

Liam didn't fare any better. His complexion went from red to white, then from white to green, finally settling on an unhealthy grayish-white. His fingers clenched into fists on his knees, his nails digging into his palms.

What did he say just now?

"It's too hard for Asian players to make it in England."

"I heard in some places you have to pay to get on the pitch."

"Isn't that quite common in China?"

Every sentence was still floating in the air. Each one had been crushed into dust by the data Emily had just recited. Between the things he said and Yu Bai's performance on the pitch this afternoon, there was the distance of an entire galaxy. And this distance had been filled in by Emily with less than a hundred words. Filled in tightly, leaving not even a crack for him to crawl into.

His gaze drifted involuntarily toward Chloe.

Chloe was looking at Yu Bai. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes shining unbelievably, filled with a very pure, undisguised amazement.

She hadn't looked at Liam once from start to finish.

Liam's Adam's apple bobbed again. This time it rolled very slowly, like a stone being forced down his throat. He clenched his fists, his nails digging in deeper.

He cursed Yu Bai a thousand times in his heart.

Why the fuck didn't you say so earlier?

Why did you make me say those things in front of Chloe?

Why did you make me lose face in front of her?

His gaze stabbed at Yu Bai, carrying an unreasonable hatred. That hatred had nothing to do with football, nothing to do with Asian players, and nothing to do with the U21s. That hatred had only one source. The girl he liked was looking at another man with a look he had never received.

Yu Bai received that look. He received it, but didn't react.

He withdrew his gaze from Emily and turned to Grandma Margaret.

Grandma Margaret put down her teacup.

The bottom of the cup hit the saucer with a crisp, light sound. She stood up, leaning on the armrests of the rattan chair, and the thin blanket slid off her knees. Susan hurried to bend down and pick it up. Grandma didn't pay attention. She stood up, nearly a head shorter than Yu Bai, but her back was very straight.

"Child."

Her voice wasn't loud, but everyone in the yard heard it clearly. There was something in that voice that made Michael's open mouth close again, and made Liam's clenched fists loosen a little.

"You go and get some rest."

She raised her hand. Her fingers were trembling, the kind of tremor from old age and declining muscle control. She waved that trembling hand toward the stairs.

"The physicality in the U21s is much greater than in the U18s. You need to sleep well to be able to compete with them."

After she finished speaking, she turned to David and Susan.

David had already stood up, and Susan followed suit.

Their movements were almost synchronized.

"Take the boy upstairs," Grandma Margaret said.

David walked over to Yu Bai and placed a hand on his shoulder.

The hand was heavy, and the warmth of his palm seeped through the white T-shirt, feeling hot.

He didn't say anything, just squeezed Yu Bai's shoulder firmly before pushing him toward the stairs.

Susan followed alongside them, glancing back at the dining table as she walked.

Her son, her daughter's bandmate, the girlfriend her son had brought along, the barely touched platter of barbecue, the half-finished bottles of beer, and the grill with its dying coals.

She didn't stop.

She turned back around, catching up to Yu Bai and David, muttering: "Bai, what time are you leaving tomorrow? I'll prepare breakfast for you; you must eat. The training load for the U21s is definitely heavier than for the U18s; you can't go on an empty stomach. Oh, right, what do you like to eat? Fried eggs or scrambled eggs? Do you want the bacon crispy or soft? Is whole wheat bread okay? Do you want the milk hot or cold..."

She kept muttering until they reached the foot of the stairs.

Yu Bai stepped onto the first step.

He turned around and looked at the three of them, one by one.

David, Susan, and Grandma Margaret stood at the very back; the thin blanket was back over her knees, but she hadn't sat back down in the wicker chair, standing instead by the door frame.

The light stretched her shadow out long.

"Thank you."

Yu Bai turned and went upstairs.

His footsteps were neither fast nor slow, treading on the wooden stairs, one step at a time, making a steady, calm sound.

He didn't look back at the dining table.

But he knew that a gaze was following his back until he turned the corner of the stairs and disappeared into the shadows of the second floor.

That gaze came from a pair of round, bright eyes, like freshly washed grapes.

The yard was quiet for a long time.

The first thing to break the silence was the charcoal.

Another drop of grease fell into the ashes, and with a "hiss," a tiny flame burst up.

The flame quickly died out, and the blue smoke rose straight up, melting into the night.

Grandma Margaret sat back in the wicker chair.

She pulled the thin blanket up over her knees, picked up her teacup, and took a sip.

The tea was already cold.

Her expression didn't change, and she took another sip.

"Michael."

She called out very softly, as if calling a dog that had run too far away.

Michael turned his head.

His face was still flushed; from his neck to his hairline, the whole area was a deep purple.

The beer in his hand was no longer cold, and a layer of condensation had formed on the bottle.

"When you were little," Grandma Margaret's voice was unhurried, "at this very table, you said you wanted to be a lawyer.

Your dad said being a lawyer wasn't easy, the competition was too great, and the odds were too small.

You threw your fork, ran back to your room, and didn't speak to him for three days.

Later, you got into law school and joined a law firm after graduation.

Your dad sat in the yard for an entire night, not saying a word, just smiling."

She paused.

"The things you just said are exactly the same as what your dad said back then.

Except, you have become the person who says 'the odds are too small'."

Michael's fingers loosened on the beer bottle.

He didn't speak.

His Adam's apple bobbed once, then again.

He lowered his head, staring at the wood grain on the table.

Those patterns twisted and turned under the light, like a map that had been crumpled up and then flattened out.

Liam stood up.

He stood up too quickly.

The wicker chair tilted backward and almost tipped over.

He reached out to steady the back of the chair, his fingers gripping the wicker until they turned white.

"I'm leaving now. I have things to do tomorrow."

He picked up the bass guitar case leaning against the wall and strode across the living room.

When changing his shoes, he bent down, his fingers trembling as he tied his shoelaces; it took him two tries to get them tied.

Chloe didn't look at him.

She was holding her guitar, her fingers pressing on the strings, but she didn't play.

She was staring at the foot of the stairs, staring at the corner where Yu Bai had disappeared.

The guitar's body was pressed against her chest, and she could feel the faint vibration of the strings.

"Mom."

Her voice was very soft, so soft that only Susan, sitting beside her, could hear.

"What time is he going to training tomorrow?"

Susan turned her head to look at her daughter.

Chloe wasn't looking at her; she was still staring at the foot of the stairs.

Her chestnut hair hung down, obscuring her profile, revealing only the tip of her ear, which was a translucent red.

Susan smiled.

She reached out and tucked Chloe's hanging hair behind her ear.

"Seven-thirty."

Chloe nodded.

She plucked a string.

A C chord, very soft.

Emily was still sitting in her seat.

She finished cutting the last piece of steak, speared it, put it in her mouth, and chewed slowly.

After chewing, she wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin, wiped her fingers, and folded the napkin neatly beside her plate.

She stood up, picked up her bag, and walked over to Michael.

She bent down, her lips close to his ear, her voice so low that only he could hear.

"You performed very poorly tonight."

She straightened up and smiled at David and Susan.

"Mr. Thompson, Mrs. Thompson, thank you for your hospitality tonight. The barbecue was delicious."

She walked toward the door.

When she passed by Chloe, her steps paused.

"Chloe, you were right just now."

Chloe looked up: "What?"

"He is handsome."

Emily pushed the door open and walked out.

The door closed softly behind her.

Michael sat in the wicker chair, motionless.

The beer in the bottle had completely warmed up, and he didn't drink anymore.

He looked at his hands.

The hands that were used to writing legal briefs and making closing arguments were now resting quietly on his knees, like two dried leaves.

Upstairs, on the third floor.

Yu Bai closed his bedroom door, leaned his back against it, and let out a long breath.

He walked to the window and pushed it open.

The night breeze blew in, carrying the scent of the grill's embers and the smell of freshly mown grass from the neighbor's lawn.

In the distance, a row of warm yellow streetlights cut the street into segments of light and shadow.

His phone buzzed in his pocket; it was almost eleven o'clock.

He fished out his phone and opened Dongqiudi.

That push notification was still floating on the homepage, and the comments had already passed five hundred.

The latest one read: "Arsenal fans are crying in the bathroom, Tottenham really found a gem."

He locked the screen and threw the phone onto the bed.

Then he smiled.

It was the kind of smile one only has when alone.

His teeth were bared, his eyes squinted into slits, and he laughed silently.

He laughed at Michael's flushed face, at Liam's pale complexion, at Emily's clean and crisp wink, at the way Chloe tilted her head to look at him, and at the way Grandma Margaret had stood up and waved him off to bed.

As he laughed, he stopped.

He leaned against the window frame, watching the quiet street in the night, watching those windows with lights on.

He remembered today on the pitch, the ball leaving his feet, drawing an arc, and landing precisely on his teammate's running path.

The feeling at that moment was the same thing as the feeling of standing at the foot of the stairs just now, listening to Emily recite those statistics.

The feeling of being seen.

It wasn't about the name "Yu Bai" being seen.

It was about being seen for what he had done.

Those dribbles, those passes, those choices, his performance on the pitch.

Today, in two completely different settings—the pitch and the dining table—he had been seen by different people in different ways.

He pulled the curtains and lay down on the bed.

There was a thin crack on the ceiling, extending from the light fixture to the corner of the wall.

He stared at that crack, remembering what Coach McKenna had said in the locker room today.

"If you really want to play in the Premier League, you need to start cultivating defensive habits now."

He closed his eyes.

In his consciousness, the system panel appeared.

Three definition points had already been used, and his Strength had jumped from 35 to 38.

That "Memory Bread" was still lying there quietly.

He turned over and buried his face in the pillow.

Tomorrow. U21.

New turf, new faces, new intensity of physical confrontation.

When Liam said "beast," he was being sarcastic, but he was right.

The physical confrontations in the U21s were indeed much greater than in the U18s, with faster speeds and stronger physiques.

Yu Bai pulled the quilt up to his chin.

He suddenly really wanted to know what expression the first person to charge at him on the training ground tomorrow would have.