Chapter 83 – Break It Down and Knead It Apart???
“I’m fine now, Manager. Really,” Yang Sa assured. He waved to Du Changcheng, who was strolling around the courtyard. “Coach.”
Du Changcheng nodded, signaling for the younger ones to do their own thing.
Qin Chuan, their workaholic manager, swiftly arranged the practice match in just a few moves. Fresh from their victory at the Asia Cup, it was a rare opportunity for them to face Xinghai right now — a good chance to improve. The match was scheduled for the weekend.
“We just got back from Singapore, so the team needs some rest. On the first day, we’ll just do solo and duo queues to get back in touch with the game. The second day will be squad matches. Sound good?”
Tangyuan, who couldn’t stand his fake polite act, pinched his throat and mimicked, “No—way.” He was rewarded with a few hard kicks on his wheelchair from Manager Qin Chuan.
“Seriously though,” Tangyuan hid behind a teammate, patting his belly with the bravado of Chow Yun-fat in Shanghai Bund, “this counts as abuse of a disabled person.”
“With that fat look of yours, you’re comparing yourself to Chow Yun-fat?” Qin Chuan forced down his disgust. “You’re more like the Beetle Girl from that kids’ show.”
“Hey now, Manager, that’s just uncalled for,” Jiang Ranan was the first to step up and call out his inhumane behavior. “The Beetle Girl is a beneficial insect. How could you lump our Tangyuan in the same category?”
“Gee, thanks,” Tangyuan rolled his wheelchair over to tickle Jiang Ranan and Qin Chuan, and the group ended up horsing around in front of the garden.
Yang Sa noticed that Zhuang Bai, who usually played the role of peacemaker in the team, stood silently with arms crossed off to the side. When he noticed the new team captain looking his way, he gave a slight nod and turned to leave quietly.
Practice resumed after dinner. Apart from Yang Sa, who discussed training matters with the two coaches, the training room was mostly empty during the day — especially a certain chubby player, who wouldn’t show up until the last second.
Manager Qin Chuan, trying to finalize the practice match details, went up to the third floor and saw Zhuang Bai at a computer in the training room. He stood outside for a while, then decided to move the meeting to the small conference room instead.
He wasn’t sure why, but he felt that Zhuang Bai needed some time alone. Just like he himself once did, walking a lonely road in the dark. At moments like this, he couldn’t help thinking of Shao Zhan. If it were that guy here, the players probably wouldn’t be bottling everything up.
One way or another, he was slowly working toward the place he wanted to reach.
There wasn’t much prep needed for a practice match anyway. After the meeting, Yang Sa brought his boxed meal and knocked on the third-floor training room door.
To his surprise, Zhuang Bai was still playing casual “fish pond” matches. Yang Sa logged into a smurf account, and the two of them played while eating. Now and then, they messed up and got counter-killed, but they’d just look at each other and laugh — the mood was unexpectedly light.
Not sure if it was the lingering boost from their Asia Cup victory, but that day’s training went especially smoothly. After finishing the usual reviews, Du Changcheng dragged the foreign coach, Li Bai, to the gate to drink and play chess with Uncle Zhou. Manager Qin Chuan had already returned to the dorms earlier to catch up on sleep.
The team was still feeling the aftereffects of the Asia Cup. The Xinghai players were planning to head back to rest when Fat Tangyuan’s food delivery arrived. The group ate hastily and then returned to their rooms to rest.
Days of travel and fatigue had built up into a deep exhaustion. Before long, the only sounds at the base were the wind and the occasional soft snore.
Yang Sa didn’t sleep. He noticed that not long after returning to the dorm, one of the players quietly slipped back into the training room while no one was watching.
That night, when he was on the phone, Shao Zhan opened with a barrage of questions: why wasn’t he home, and where the hell was he?
“You’re at my place?” Yang Sa practically jumped out of bed. “I—I… wait for me, I’ll come back right now!”
“Just messing with you,” Shao Zhan said with a chuckle. “I’m out at a business dinner. I figured you’d be at the base.”
“Really?” Yang Sa was still a little suspicious.
“Really. Why would I go through all that trouble? It’s way too far,” Shao Zhan said. He mentioned he’d be busy for a while longer, but once his aunt finished handling her divorce, she’d take over managing the family business. “Then, we can go home together. Live together…”
“Okay, okay, stop right there.” Yang Sa quickly cut him off, afraid he was about to say something R-rated.
“Shy already?” Shao Zhan laughed. “What are we going to do when we actually live together?” He could already picture his “little spouse” avoiding him like a shadow—there one second, gone the next. What a headache, really.
“Who said I’d live with you?!” Yang Sa shot back, though deep down, he couldn’t help the flutter of excitement in his chest.
He had a home—he used to have a home. But he lost it due to an accident. Later, he was adopted a few times, but it was always temporary “family.” He kept getting sent back to the welfare center until the Campbell family chose him and brought him abroad. He gained many “relatives,” but none of them ever cared how he felt—or whether he wanted any of it at all.
Three years ago, he took the chance to slip back into the country, trying to find evidence of his brother’s murder, only to be dragged back to Germany. It took him three years to prove himself—and to try to break free from the other party’s control.
Whether at home or abroad, all these years he had existed like a lone wolf. He never imagined he’d be lucky enough to have family again. The word home, when spoken by Shao Zhan, felt so intimate, so small and close—like a world made just for the two of them, a planet where everything revolved around him.
Shao Zhan deliberately tried to cheer him up, chatting away with all sorts of nonsense that made Yang Sa alternately laugh and fume. He wanted to reach through the phone and give him a good beating just to vent his frustration.
“Seriously though, once we’re both done with all this stuff and have some time off, let’s just move into your place. The bed’s big enough anyway…”
“What bed? What are you talking about a bed for?” Yang Sa panicked, quickly covering his mouth as if raising his voice would somehow give everything away. “Can’t you be serious for once?”
“I’m not being serious?” Shao Zhan thought. He had waited three whole years for this person—now the prize was right in front of him and he wasn’t allowed to take a bite? This had to be a crime against humanity.
Of course, these thoughts could never be said out loud. If Yang Sa found out, with his ostrich-like tendency to bury his head in the sand, who knew which hole he’d disappear into next.
“Oh come on, little brother, why don’t you tell me exactly how I’m being improper?” Honestly, when Shao Zhan decided to shamelessly commit to a bit, probably no one in the entire league could rival him.
Yang Sa was so furious he burst into a stream of German curses.
On the other end, Shao Zhan clearly understood and let out a dramatic cry, “Oh-ho! Captain of Xinghai is cursing!” Then he pressed the advantage, “Come on, little brother, tell me—how exactly am I being improper, where am I being a scoundrel… hey, why aren’t you saying anything? Why so quiet? Little sir…?”
Watching as the call was abruptly cut off, Shao Zhan collapsed onto Yang Sa’s small bed, laughing. His little guy really was too thin-skinned. He’d have to find more chances in the future to say sweet, heartfelt things—help him accept this relationship sooner.
He pulled the blanket over himself and fell asleep peacefully, surrounded by the scent of his beloved, wrapping up the day with a perfect ending.
…
Even after hanging up, Yang Sa was still fuming. He cursed at his phone screen for a while before finally putting it down to charge.
After some deliberation, he still chose not to mention the issues with the team.
First, as acting captain, the players’ problems were his responsibility.
Second, there were undoubtedly enough troubles on the corporate side as well. Shao Zhan hadn’t brought them up because he didn’t want Yang Sa to worry.
This time, the matter involved many parties. As the head of the Shao Group, Shao Zhan was under immense pressure—and facing it all alone. Yang Sa, in his heart, couldn’t bear to add to his burden with the team’s problems.
Fortunately, the Asia Cup had been a turnaround—they could now face the critics with heads held high. This time, Shao Zhan had defended justice for him, and Yang Sa, in turn, had safeguarded Shao Zhan’s honor.
Perhaps, Yang Sa thought, this was what their relationship was like. They wouldn’t spend too much time on sweet nothings or romantic gestures—they showed their love by achieving results. Because only by becoming better versions of themselves could they truly help each other—and stand beside one another with confidence.
…
As expected, the first day of the scrims didn’t stir up much excitement. Before the match, almost all of Xinghai’s energy had been focused on studying four-man tactics. Naturally, it was difficult to get back into the rhythm of solo and duo queues right away.
The other teams weren’t weak either, and their usual training also focused heavily on squad matches. So the solo and duo games on the first day ended up having an unexpectedly cheerful and relaxed vibe.
Seeing how unmotivated his boys were, Du Changcheng decided it was better not to watch and get annoyed. He headed down to the lower training room to enjoy some peace and quiet—and to see if there were any promising talents in the second team or among the trainees. Bringing one or two up might just light a fire under those lazy brats.
He wasn’t particularly worried about the scrims themselves. Taking advantage of Coach Li Bai’s rigid mindset, he left him stationed in the training room to record the brats’ every move.
Shao Zhan also found time during the day to glance at a couple of matches. But during their call that night, the moment Yang Sa spoke, he immediately revoked the former captain’s right to comment on the scrims.
“I didn’t watch,” Shao Zhan lied with a perfectly straight face. “Was it exciting? I’ll catch up on it later.”
“No, no, no.” Yang Sa pressed his palms together in a pleading gesture at his phone. “Please don’t watch it. I’m begging you.”
“Sounds like you guys played great,” Shao Zhan said, sighing with satisfaction. “With a new captain in charge, Team Xinghai’s future looks bright. As the boss, I can finally rest easy…”
Yang Sa doubled over in laughter. “Could you be any more sarcastic?”
“Oh, definitely,” Shao Zhan said shamelessly. “Come over here and I’ll explain it to you properly—break it down, piece by piece, nice and slow…”
He only dared to grumble once the call was cut off: “Seriously now, just hang up on the boss like that? So disobedient. Next time I get my hands on you, I’m gonna break it all down for you, real good.”
Meanwhile, on the other end, Yang Sa kicked the bedpost hard. “What was that? Break it down? Piece by piece?” He clenched his fists, an eerie smile creeping across his face. “Next time, you’ll see who’s breaking who down and grinding them to dust…”