154: "Wenger is concerned (above)

On October 15th, thick clouds hung over Hartlepool.

The sea breeze from the North Sea swept through the small port city, bringing the unique dampness and coolness of autumn.

On the lawn of the Phoenix Training Center, last night's dew had not completely evaporated, shimmering with tiny specks of light under the slanting sun.

Lin Feng stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in his office, holding a stack of newspapers that had just arrived.

Every front page had the same theme - transfer rumors involving Vardy and Arsenal.

The Sun's headline was the most exaggerated: "Wenger Eyes Hartlepool's Divine Striker! £30 Million Bid in Winter Window!"

The Daily Mail was relatively more restrained: "Arsenal Monitors Vardy, Hartlepool Refuses to Sell."

Even The Mirror published a lengthy analytical article, comparing Vardy's movement characteristics with Henry's in detail.

Lin Feng put down the newspapers, his face showing no change in emotion.

This kind of frantic media hype was completely within his expectations.

A winning streak always attracts attention, and attention often comes with excessive praise.

On the training ground, the players were undergoing their daily training session.

But unlike usual, there were more cameras and reporters on the sidelines.

Every touch of the ball, every expression of Vardy, was precisely captured by the lenses.

He tried to stay focused, but the whispers of the onlookers still reached his ears.

"Look, that's him, the kid Wenger supposedly wants."

"Thirty million, that's an astronomical figure for Hartlepool."

"Can they hold onto him? Or have they been planning to sell him all along?"

Vardy gritted his teeth and kicked the ball forcefully towards the goal.

The ball hit the crossbar with a dull thud.

Henderson walked over to him and patted his shoulder.

"Don't listen to that nonsense, Jamie."

"Focus on training; let the boss worry about the rest."

Vardy nodded, but there was still a hint of unease in his eyes.

Not only Vardy, but the entire team's atmosphere was affected.

Walker made a mistake in a simple pass.

Sigurdsson's long-range shot went wildly off target.

Even the usually steady Nelson made an unnecessary risky pass in the backfield.

Old John stood on the sidelines, his brows furrowed.

He could feel the subtle psychological changes in the players.

The pressure of the winning streak, the media attention, the external expectations - these invisible weights were pressing down on these young men.

After training, the players walked in twos and threes towards the locker room.

The usual cheerful laughter was noticeably reduced, replaced by thoughtful silence.

Maloney and Snodgrass were discussing something in low voices.

Shawcross sat alone in a corner, cleaning his boots.

Schmeichel leaned against the wall, eyes closed, seemingly in thought.

Lin Feng pushed open the locker room door, and all sounds instantly ceased.

The players looked up, awaiting the boss's words.

But Lin Feng did not call a serious meeting.

Instead, he had a relaxed smile on his face.

"Lads, do you have any plans for tonight?"

The players exchanged glances, unsure what the boss was going to say.

"If not, gather at the back garden of the training center at eight o'clock."

"We're having a barbecue party."

Vardy was the first to widen his eyes.

"Boss, did you say barbecue party?"

"That's right, I'll be cooking myself."

Lin Feng clapped his hands, "But there's one condition: anyone who mentions transfers, the media, or the winning streak will be punished by washing all the dishes."

Laughter, long absent, erupted in the locker room.

The tension and unease in the players' eyes dissipated considerably.

"Can the boss barbecue?"

Maloney asked curiously.

"Well, you'll find out later."

Lin Feng winked mysteriously and turned to leave.

At eight o'clock in the evening, the back garden of the Phoenix Training Center was brightly lit.

Lin Feng had already prepared the barbecue grill, charcoal, various ingredients, and drinks.

He was dressed in casual clothes, adjusting the heat of the grill.

The players arrived one after another, each with curiosity and excitement on their faces.

"Boss, you really can barbecue?"

Walker watched in surprise as Lin Feng skillfully flipped the meat slices.

"I did it often when I was in China; it's a personal hobby, I guess."

Lin Feng said, placing the seasoned beef steaks on the grill.

The fat sizzled when it met the charcoal, and the aroma instantly spread.

"Wow, it smells so good!"

Schmeichel couldn't help but take a deep breath.

"Don't rush, there's plenty more."

Lin Feng pointed to the neatly arranged ingredients nearby, "Lamb chops, chicken wings, sausages, and vegetarian options too."

The players gathered around the grill, and the atmosphere gradually relaxed.

Lin Feng cooked the food while chatting casually with everyone.

But he deliberately avoided any topics related to football.

"Jamie, what did you want to be when you were a kid?"

Vardy thought for a moment, "A firefighter, because I thought they were cool."

"What about Kyle?"

"An astronaut; I wanted to go to space and see it."

Walker said a little shyly.

"Haha, very imaginative."

Lin Feng handed out the grilled steaks, "But now you have an even cooler profession - professional football players."

"And professional football players who are about to make history."

His words brought a knowing smile to everyone's faces, but no one delved deeper into the topic.

Because everyone remembered Lin Feng's "ban."

"Boss, what was your dream when you were a child?"

Henderson asked curiously.

"My dream?" Lin Feng smiled but didn't answer immediately, instead asking Henderson, "What do you think?"

"I want to build a football dynasty, a legend that belongs to us."

"And now, we are on our way."

He raised the non-alcoholic beer in his hand, "To friendship, to dreams!"

"To friendship, to dreams!"

Everyone raised their glasses together, and the crisp clinking echoed in the night sky.

The barbecue party lasted for nearly three hours.

The players ate delicious food and chatted about a wide range of topics.

Some shared childhood anecdotes, some talked about their hometown scenery, and some recounted funny experiences.

The long-lost relaxed atmosphere allowed everyone to put down the burdens in their hearts.

When the conversation was in full swing, Lin Feng quietly walked over to Vardy.

"Jamie, a word alone?"

The two walked to a corner of the garden, away from the laughter of the others.

The night breeze gently brushed, bringing the salty taste of the distant ocean.

"It's a good thing to be noticed, Jamie."

Lin Feng's voice was soft but firm, "It proves your worth."

Vardy lowered his head, seemingly deep in thought.

"But you must remember, it's this platform at Hartlepool that allowed you to shine."

Lin Feng turned around and looked him directly in the eyes: "Remember, Arsenal is not the end, nor is the Premier League. Our goal is much, much further than that."

Vardy suddenly looked up, as if he had finally understood something, and nodded forcefully.

"Boss, I understand."

"No matter what outsiders say, I will focus on playing for the club."

Lin Feng nodded with satisfaction and patted Vardy's shoulder.

"Good lad, that's the Jamie Vardy I know."

The two rejoined the crowd, participating in the lively conversation.

As night deepened, the party drew to a close.

Lin Feng stood up and raised his glass again.

"Lads, I'd like to say a few words."

Everyone quieted down, awaiting the boss's speech.

"The outside praise, honestly, don't pay attention to it."

Lin Feng's voice was exceptionally clear in the night wind, "The media that praises you today might step on you tomorrow."

"True strength is the sweat you shed on the training ground every day."

"It's the cheers when we lift the trophy together."

He looked around at each player, his eyes filled with warmth.

"Enjoy the process, lads."

"Don't be held hostage by the results, don't be disturbed by outside voices."

"We are a team, a family."

"No matter what happens, we must stand together."

The players were deeply moved by these words.

Some had tears in their eyes, some clenched their fists.

"For Hartlepool!"

Nelson was the first to stand up and shout.

"For Hartlepool!"

Everyone stood up together, their voices piercing the night sky.

At this moment, all the pressure and unease vanished.

Replaced by a stronger belief and closer unity.

The next morning, Lin Feng arrived at his office to find Richard Arnold already waiting.

"Good morning, Mr. Lin."

Arnold held a document, "Last night's events have already spread."

"The players posted many photos of the party on social media."

Lin Feng took the document and quickly scanned its contents.

It contained reports from various media outlets about last night's barbecue party.