Chapter 52 – My Lord, Won’t You Try My Chicken Bones?
Fat Tangyuan’s mischievous grin was completely caught by Shao Zhan. Clearly, he’d spoiled the guy too much on a daily basis. It was time to teach him a lesson or two.
Thinking this, Shao Zhan picked up a perfectly grilled pepper and took a bite—it was sweet.
After noticing that someone would squint like a cat stretching in the sun whenever he ate roasted peppers, Yang Sa quietly passed the rest of his pepper and meat skewers to Uncle Zhou.
Uncle Zhou didn’t have great teeth, so he only kept one or two as a gesture, then slid the rest—untouched—right onto Shao Zhan’s plate.
Over by the grill, Fat Tangyuan was tiptoeing to watch the situation unfold, his face full of confusion.
Yang Sa sipped his juice without a flicker of expression, completely ignoring the probing looks from afar.
“Ah! It’s on fire, it’s on fire—!” The corner of the paper chef’s hat, clipped to his head with a paperclip, accidentally got singed by a flare from the coals.
Jiang Ranan and Little Blue rushed over in a panic to help pat out the flames. But Fat Tangyuan’s heart and eyes were locked on the food on the grill: “Aiya, move over, move over, don’t mess up my chicken bones!”
Once the chicken bones were done, Fat Tangyuan suddenly remembered a crucial step. He grabbed Lanlan by the arm: “How do I look? How’s my face?”
Staring at his singed and curling eyebrows, Little Lanlan couldn’t lie. After holding back for a long time, he squeezed out two words: “Slight flaw.”
“What does that mean?” Fat Tangyuan, suddenly humbled by the vast and poetic complexity of the Chinese language, turned to another teammate and grabbed Jiang Ranan by the shoulders. “Ranan, be honest—how do I look?”
Jiang Ranan bit the tip of his tongue, forced himself to adopt a solemn expression, and said, “Handsome, graceful, generous. Female fans would go crazy. Male fans would want to marry you.”
“You naughty thing~” The chubby guy suddenly went all bashful, wiping his face with the back of his hand—only to wipe off half an eyebrow in the process. Then, with an utterly demure expression, the plump drama queen said, “My lord, won’t you try this humble one’s chicken bones?”
Jiang Ranan glanced at the chicken bones and was suddenly hit with a wave of nausea.
Maybe all the flattery had gone to his head, but Fat Tangyuan’s battle spirit had clearly dropped. After the chicken bones were served, Coach Du and Uncle Zhou sampled them out of courtesy, and the rest couldn’t stomach much more.
Fat Tangyuan stood guard over the grill with a heartbroken look. “This really is a family recipe! When I was a kid, my dad grilled these to pay for my school fees—and later for my esports training…” His soul was crying. How could something this delicious be left uneaten?
But he didn’t stay sad for long. He suddenly remembered the mooncakes he’d bought earlier and forgotten to take out. Eyes sparkling with unshed tears, he bounced over and dug them out from under the soda crates—then solemnly began introducing them to the foreign guests.
For example, there’s Chang’e on the moon, and Chang’e has a rabbit. The moment someone mentioned rabbits, he perked up: “Do you know how to eat rabbit? The best part is spicy rabbit head,” he said, shivering with pleasure. “Ah, speaking of spicy rabbit head—you’ve come to the right person…”
“No one asked you though,” Qin Chuan replied flatly, twenty years of experience in shutting people down.
“Qin Chuanchuan, you are just too cute!” Fat Tangyuan cried out, reaching out with sauce-covered hands to paw at him. His soft, chubby face ended up completely smushed.
Yang Sa turned on the porch lights as everyone laughed and watched Fatty’s soap opera of love and hate with the team manager.
Little Black threw off his jacket and started dancing wildly like a tribal native, full of raw energy. Little Blue played a drum rhythm on his phone to match the vibe.
Du Changcheng answered a video call from his son and proudly showed off the warm hospitality of their international friends. On the other end, the well-behaved little boy softly expressed how much he missed his dad.
“October,” Du Changcheng promised, “I’ll come home for National Day and spend it with you.”
Puffed out from all the antics, Fat Tangyuan waddled over, holding his chest dramatically. “Coach, take care of your rear.”
Du Changcheng smacked him.
Fatty whimpered, “Can that thing even handle a high-speed train?”
“As long as you stop pissing me off,” Du Changcheng said through gritted teeth, “I’ll be back on my feet in no time.”
“Is that Brother Fatfat ? Is that Brother Fatfat?” a child’s excited voice came through the phone speaker. Fat Tangyuan shamelessly squeezed into the frame.
“Hey, little Dudu! Did you miss your chubby uncle?” His round face practically took over the whole screen.
The black, white, and blue international friends each took turns greeting the boy, then tactfully gave father and son their space—everyone except Fat Tangyuan, who kept chattering away.
Friendly and outgoing, Little Black started chatting with the Xinghai team about how Bage was doing.
Meanwhile, the white and blue duo, taking advantage of everyone being distracted, made a stealth move—one snatched a skewer of meat, the other hoisted the tray of chicken bones and bolted toward the backyard.
Outside the fence, Max slumped weakly against the wall, urging them: “Quick, quick, let me have a bite!”
He took a big bite from the skewer in Little White’s hand and gave a big thumbs-up. “Chinese food—gaga di,” he said, grinning.
“Try the chicken bones too!” Little Blue proudly stepped up onto the platform, stretching his arm out like a crane as he gently lowered the prized dish.
“This one’s my brother’s family recipe—passed down through generations.”
Max wasn’t fussy—he sat cross-legged on the tiled ground and started gobbling down food like a starving man.
Previously, in the process of buying out Xinghai, Max had some dealings here. To avoid interfering with Yang Sa’s plans, they’d agreed he should lie low for a while.
Being in a foreign country with little familiarity, and drawn by the delicious aromas and cheerful atmosphere, Max had been wandering around the area. After messaging a few not-so-reliable friends, he was finally rewarded—with the leftovers of a well-fed group.
“So good, so good, SO good!” Max praised between bites. “Chinese culture is truly broad and profound. So fragrant—absolutely amazing.”
He shoved in a few more meat skewers, then licked his lips while gnawing on chicken bones. “Why didn’t you bring any drinks?”
Little Blue gave him an air slap from behind the fence. “Aren’t you asking for too much?”
“If you got this much, you should be grateful,” Little White said coolly, arms folded. “Go buy your own water from the store.”
“That’d ruin the vibe,” Max muttered, shaking his head. This was a villa district, and the nearest store was a bit of a hike. If he walked there and back, the calories he just ate would be for nothing.
While he complained, a stray cat lurking nearby snatched a chicken bone from the ground.
Max sighed, listless. “What a waste.”
He was returning to Germany after the Mid-Autumn Festival, and just thinking about leaving behind this deep and rich food culture made his eyes sting with imaginary tears.
Hearing that, Little Blue and Little White got a bit sentimental too. They each had their own careers, and the upcoming parting weighed heavy—not just because of the food, but because of the friends they’d made on this foreign soil.
Just as the three were lost in shared melancholy, an angry shout shattered their international daydream.
A few thuggish-looking guys stormed over. The one in front wore a floral shirt and had a toothpick in his mouth. Without a word, he threw a punch straight at Max’s face.
“Hey, you—what… what are you doing?!” Little Blue and Little White had decent Chinese, and could usually drop a few idioms now and then, but under pressure, they were a stammering mess.
“Stop stop stop… stooop—” they kept yelling, but before they could even get the word “hands” out, poor Max was already being beaten and screaming.
Someone pulled out a shiny steel pipe, raising it high.
Language barriers aside, Little Blue and White were just about to climb the fence and fight back—when a tall figure suddenly charged over, leaped the fence, and landed squarely next to Max. With a swift uppercut, he took down the guy about to strike.
“Which gang are you from?” Shao Zhan didn’t even bother to look directly at them.
With a swift motion, he pulled the bloodied Max up from the ground.
On his way back from the restroom, Shao Zhan happened to spot Little White and Little Blue sneaking toward the backyard. Curiosity got the better of him, so he followed—and outside the wall, he saw the foreigner who had once offered a high price to buy out Xinghai. Shao Zhan hadn’t intended to make a fuss and was just about to leave when trouble broke out.
The group clearly wasn’t there to talk things through. They loudly accused Max of being a thief, claiming the two outraged foreigners with him were his accomplices.
Shao Zhan could tell this wasn’t about theft. He instructed the two foreigners—who couldn’t explain themselves properly due to the language barrier—to take Max for medical attention. The noise had reached the front yard, and he could hear his teammates shouting as they rushed over.
Shao Zhan, wary of their numbers, chose not to confront them head-on and aimed to hold out until his team arrived. But the attackers had the upper hand—more people and no hesitation. Metal pipes came swinging from different directions.
Instinctively, Shao Zhan raised his arm to block. The dull, sickening crack of bone made every Xinghai member flinch. Zhuang Bai, tall and broad, charged in from the front, but a thinner figure moved even faster—hurling himself at the man being beaten as if gone mad.
Even the usually chubby and harmless Tangyuan had murder in his eyes. He grabbed a stone from the ground and charged into the chaos. Meanwhile, Uncle Zhou desperately held back a thug who was about to strike one of the team, pleading as he did, “Don’t, don’t! They’re national players—they fight for our country’s honor!”
Du Changcheng clutched his stomach as he ran, phone on speaker with the emergency operator from 110 on the line.
The thugs looked at each other in confusion, insisting they were “catching a thief,” but amid the rising commotion, they eventually dispersed and left.
Seeing their team captain weakly clutching his injured arm, drenched in sweat, the enraged Tangyuan gripped his stone tighter and was just about to give chase—only to be stopped by Shao Zhan’s voice: “Come back.”
Though wracked with pain, Shao Zhan’s mind was still clear.
The attackers had come prepared, used dirty tricks, and their true purpose was unclear. To chase them recklessly was too risky. With the Asia Cup just around the corner, Xinghai couldn’t afford any more injuries.
Tangyuan stopped, frustrated, pacing in place. In a corner where no one was looking, a lone figure quietly picked up one of the steel pipes left behind in the fight and bolted.
“C-come back…”
Shao Zhan tried to give chase, but the searing pain in his broken arm knocked him to the ground. He rolled twice before lifting his still-usable left hand toward Yang Sa’s retreating back.
“Come back…”
That slim, still slightly boyish figure trembled. He dropped the steel pipe and turned around, collapsing to the ground and cradling the injured man. Big, round tears streamed down his face—he was already crying so hard he could hardly breathe.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” the injured man whispered, a faint smile tugging at his handsome, pain-stricken face. “It doesn’t hurt…”
Just before losing consciousness, Shao Zhan’s head leaned gently against the boy’s ear. He breathed out a faint, almost inaudible sentence: “When you cry… it hurts me…”