The walk back to the cramped apartment above Xu's Reliable Repairs felt longer than usual, each step echoing the deep ache in Lin Kai's muscles. The familiar scent of motor oil, dust, and something vaguely fried from the street vendors below hung heavy in the humid Phoenix District air, a stark contrast to the sterile chalk and sweat smell of the classroom he'd just left. He pushed open the creaking door, the sound immediately followed by the high-pitched squeal of his younger sister, Lin Mei.
"Gege!" Mei launched herself at him, a whirlwind of dark pigtails and boundless energy, almost knocking his weary frame off balance. He managed a tired grin, ruffling her hair. "Hey, firecracker."
His father, Lin Weimin, sat at the small, scarred kitchen table, a cup of strong, cheap tea steaming in front of him. His face, etched with lines from years of hard labor before the accident that wrecked his back, looked weary but softened slightly as he saw Kai. He was meticulously cleaning some small, greasy engine parts spread on newspaper – odd jobs he could manage despite the pain. Kai's mother, Chen Lifen, stood by the single gas burner, stirring a pot of simple vegetable and noodle soup. The small space was filled with the comforting, familiar aroma. She turned, her eyes instantly scanning Kai, taking in the fatigue etched deep into his young face.
"Long session?" she asked, her voice laced with the constant undercurrent of worry Kai knew so well. "You look done in." She gestured towards the pot. "Sit. Food's almost ready. Long day tomorrow."
Kai nodded, dropping his worn sports bag by the door with a soft thud. He sank into a chair opposite his father, the plastic groaning in protest. Mei clambered onto his lap, chattering about her day at school, a bright counterpoint to his exhaustion. "Coach Deng pushed hard," Kai admitted, accepting the cup of lukewarm water his father nudged towards him. "Trials."
Weimin grunted, not looking up from the tiny gear he was polishing. "Trials. Big day." His voice was gruff, but Kai heard the underlying tension, the unspoken weight of hope and fear. Football was a gamble, a luxury their precarious existence couldn't easily afford. The scholarship attached to making the Jinjiang United U18 squad wasn't just about Kai's dream; it was about one less mouth to feed directly, one less burden on Lifen's worn shoulders.
"You'll do amazing, Kai," Mei declared confidently, looking up at him with wide, adoring eyes. "You're the best kicker ever! Even better than that man on TV!"
Lifen placed a steaming bowl of soup in front of Kai, her expression tight. "Just… be careful. Don't push too hard. Listen to your body." Her worry was a physical thing, thick in the small room. She saw the risks – the injuries, the shattered dreams, the years wasted chasing something so uncertain when he could be focusing on safe, reliable studies. But she also saw the fire in his eyes, the fire she'd seen since he was a toddler chasing a deflated ball down the alley.
"He'll be fine, Lifen," Weimin said, his voice a low rumble. He finally looked up, meeting Kai's eyes. There was a flicker there, a spark Kai rarely saw – pride mixed with a fierce, protective anxiety. "He's tough. Got grit. Learned it here." He gestured vaguely around the cramped apartment, encompassing Phoenix District itself. "Just go out there tomorrow and play your game, son. Like you do on the concrete. Show them what Phoenix District makes."
The simple, unexpected faith from his usually stoic father hit Kai harder than any of Coach Deng's drills. He swallowed, the knot from earlier tightening again, but this time laced with determination. "I will, Dad," he said, his voice firm. "I'll show them."
The soup was simple, nourishing. The conversation turned to Mei's school project and Lifen's concerns about rising vegetable prices. The normalcy was a strange comfort, a grounding anchor before the storm Kai felt brewing for tomorrow. Later, lying on the thin mattress he shared with Mei in the curtained-off corner that served as his room, the sounds of the district filtering through the thin walls – distant traffic, a snatch of music, the clatter of bins – Kai replayed the football pyramid in his mind. ISL, CC, DGL… the academy ladder. He imagined the smooth green turf of the Jinjiang United training ground, the sharp eyes of the coaches. Sleep came slowly, tangled with nerves and vivid flashes of perfect passes and agonizing misses.
***
Dawn painted the Phoenix District alleyways in shades of grey and pale gold when Kai awoke. Mei was still curled beside him, breathing softly. Carefully, he extricated himself, the familiar ache in his limbs a dull background thrum now, overlaid by a buzzing current of adrenaline. Today. The word pulsed with every heartbeat. He dressed quickly in his cleanest training gear – simple black shorts and a faded red shirt, his best pair of worn but carefully cleaned football socks pulled high. He laced his boots, the leather stiff but familiar, a comforting ritual. He slipped the worn tennis ball he always carried into his bag, a talisman from his first pitch.
In the main room, Lifen was already bustling, packing lunches – a simple rice ball and pickled vegetables for Kai, something similar for Mei. Weimin was gone, likely already out searching for whatever odd jobs he could find this early. "Eat quickly," Lifen instructed, her voice taut with the morning's tension. She placed a small bowl of congee in front of him. Her eyes, shadowed from another early start, held a silent plea: *Be safe. Be smart. Come home whole.*
Mei stumbled out, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Gege! Today's the day!" She scrambled onto her chair, suddenly wide awake. "Kick lots of goals!"
Kai forced down the congee, his stomach churning. "I'll try, Mei-Mei." He ruffled her hair again. "Best of luck to you too. Ace that spelling test."
"I will!" she beamed, utterly confident.
The walk to Mei's primary school was quiet, the district slowly waking up around them. Shop shutters rattled open, the first scooters buzzed past, the smell of frying dough sticks began to permeate the air. Mei chattered, holding Kai's hand tightly, her small presence a grounding force. He dropped her off at the school gates, receiving a fierce, quick hug. "Win, Gege!" she whispered fiercely before skipping inside.
Alone now, the weight of the day settled fully on Kai's shoulders. He adjusted the strap of his sports bag, took a deep breath of the still-cool morning air tinged with exhaust and street food, and turned towards the main road, heading for the bus stop that would take him towards Dragon Bay, towards the Jinjiang United Academy complex. His mind was a whirlwind of tactics, drills, potential scenarios, the faces of unknown competitors. He needed to be sharp, focused, ready.
He rounded the corner onto the slightly wider street where the bus stop stood, a simple metal shelter plastered with faded advertisements. And there they were. Xu Bo, leaning against the shelter with his usual casual slouch, hands shoved in the pockets of his worn jeans. Li Xia, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, clutching a small paper bag. And Su Yuelin, standing perfectly still, her tablet case slung over her shoulder, watching him approach with that calm, unwavering gaze.
Kai stopped short, surprise momentarily overriding his nerves. "What…? What are you guys doing here? The bus doesn't go near the academy for you."
Bo pushed himself off the shelter, a wide grin splitting his face. "What, think we'd let you face the dragon's den alone on Day One? Not a chance, superstar."
Li Xia bounded forward, thrusting the paper bag at him. "Mum's special energy buns! Guaranteed to make you run faster than Wei Jiang!" she declared, referring to the academy golden boy Kai often spoke of with wary respect.
Kai took the bag, the warmth seeping into his hands. "But… your school? Yuelin, your first class…?"
Yuelin stepped forward, her expression serene but her eyes holding an intensity he rarely saw. "We're coming with you as far as the gates," she stated simply, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "We take the bus with you to the Dragon Bay interchange. Then Bo and Xia will head to school from there, and I…" She paused, meeting his gaze directly. "I have a study period first. I'll wait. Outside. At the cafe near the academy entrance."
"Wait? But… why?" Kai asked, bewildered, touched, and slightly overwhelmed.
"Because," Yuelin said, her voice soft but firm, cutting through the morning bustle, "we will always be with you, Kai. Even when we're not right beside you on the pitch. Today, you walk in alone. But we're here. At the start." She gestured towards the approaching bus, its diesel rumble growing louder. "So come on. Your chariot awaits, Golden Dragon."
The simple declaration, the sheer, unshakeable loyalty of it, hit Kai like a physical force. The knot of anxiety didn't vanish, but it loosened, replaced by a fierce warmth spreading through his chest. Bo clapped him on the back, Xia beamed, and Yuelin gave him that small, steadying nod. They boarded the bus together, finding seats near the back. The journey towards Dragon Bay was a blur of cityscape shifting from the cramped vibrancy of Phoenix District to the wider avenues and gleaming glass towers near the waterfront. Kai barely registered it, his focus turning inward, steeling himself, fueled by the warm bun in his stomach and the silent, powerful presence of his friends beside him.
At the Dragon Bay interchange, bustling with commuters heading towards offices and the imposing silhouette of the United stadium in the distance, Bo and Xia disembarked with a chorus of "Smash it, Kai!" and "We believe in you!". Yuelin stayed on, sitting quietly beside him for the few more stops until they reached the dedicated road leading to the Jinjiang United Training Complex. They got off. The complex was a sprawling, modern oasis of perfectly manicured green fields behind high fences, security booths at the entrances. The main senior team building loomed impressively in the distance, but the sign pointed them towards the Youth Academy section – a slightly less imposing but still immaculate complex of buildings and pitches.
Yuelin stopped at the entrance to a small, tasteful cafe nestled opposite the academy's main player entrance. "This is me," she said, turning to face him. The early morning sun glinted off her glasses. "Go in. Do what you do best. Play." She reached out, not touching him, but her gesture encompassing everything – the belief, the strategy, the years of shared dreams. "Remember: direct. Take players on. Show them the fire." She gave him one last, deep look, a look that said she saw not just the nervous sixteen-year-old, but the potential blazing within him. "We'll be right here."
Kai took a deep, shuddering breath, the scent of expensive coffee from the cafe mingling with the faint, intoxicating smell of freshly cut grass drifting from beyond the fence. He nodded, unable to speak past the sudden lump in his throat. He squared his shoulders, adjusted his bag, and turned towards the academy entrance. Security checked his name against a list, gave his bag a cursory glance, and directed him through the gates. The sound of the city faded, replaced by the distant thud of balls being struck, shouts drifting from unseen pitches, and an almost reverent quiet. The paths were clean, lined with shrubs. Young players in pristine Jinjiang United training kits – blue and silver – walked purposefully towards various buildings. Kai felt acutely aware of his own faded gear, his Phoenix District roots. He followed the signs towards the U18 training ground, his boots clicking on the pristine pavement.
The U18 pitch was a revelation. Lush, impossibly green grass stretched out under the morning sun, perfectly level, marked with crisp white lines. Small, neat grandstands stood on one side. Already, dozens of boys were milling about near the touchline, stretching, juggling balls with impressive ease, or talking in hushed, serious tones. They all looked… sharp. Fit. Focused. Some wore expensive-looking boots Kai recognized from magazines. The air crackled with nervous energy and intense concentration. Kai found a quiet spot near the end of the group and began his own stretches, trying to ignore the assessing glances shot his way. He spotted Wei Jiang near the center of the group, effortlessly flicking a ball between his feet, surrounded by a few other boys who looked similarly polished. Kai looked away, focusing on his hamstrings, on the feel of the cool grass beneath his fingers.
After about ten minutes, a low murmur ran through the group. Three men walked purposefully onto the pitch from the nearby building. The one in the lead had a sharp, intelligent face, close-cropped hair going grey at the temples, and piercing eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. He wore the same blue and silver training kit as the senior academy coaches Kai had seen pictures of, a whistle hanging around his neck. This was Coach Liang, the U18 head coach Yuelin had mentioned. The two men flanking him were younger assistants, carrying clipboards and looking equally focused.
Coach Liang stopped near the center circle. The chatter died instantly. An expectant silence fell, thick and heavy. Kai could hear his own heartbeat thudding in his ears. Coach Liang's gaze swept slowly across the assembled hopefuls, his expression unreadable. He didn't need to shout; his presence commanded absolute attention.
"Welcome," he began, his voice clear, calm, and carrying easily across the pitch. "To the Jinjiang United Under-18 open trials. My name is Liang Zheng. I am the head coach of this squad." He paused, letting the weight of his position sink in. "You are here because someone saw potential. Potential is cheap." His eyes hardened slightly. "What matters here is application. Discipline. Heart. And the ability to execute under pressure. Over the next few hours, we will assess whether you possess those qualities." He gestured to one of the assistants, who stepped forward holding a clipboard.
"First things first," Coach Liang continued. "When I call your name, step forward. State your full name, age, and primary playing position. Clearly. This is not a request." His tone brooked no argument.
The assistant started reading names from the list. One by one, boys stepped forward. "Zhang Wei! 17! Center Back!" "Li Hao! 16! Goalkeeper!" "Chen Long! 17! Defensive Midfield!" The answers were crisp, confident, sometimes accompanied by a slight tremor.
Kai watched, his mouth dry. He saw Wei Jiang step forward smoothly. "Wei Jiang! 16! Attacking Midfield!" His voice was confident, bordering on arrogant. Coach Liang gave a curt nod.
More names. Kai's stomach churned. Then: "Lin Kai!"
He took a deep breath, forcing his legs to move. He stepped forward, conscious of every eye on him, feeling the vastness of the perfect pitch around him. He met Coach Liang's sharp gaze, trying to project the determination he felt burning inside. "Lin Kai!" he called out, his voice thankfully steady, carrying across the quiet field. "Sixteen! Attacking Midfield!"
Coach Liang's eyes lingered on him for a fraction longer than on some others. Kai couldn't decipher the look. Assessment? Dismissal? Curiosity? He simply gave the same curt nod. "Next!"
Kai stepped back into the line, letting out a silent breath. The first hurdle. He'd stated his claim. Attacking Midfield. His territory.
Once the last name was called and the final position declared (another winger), Coach Liang nodded again. "Alright. Warm-up drills are done. Now we see what you can actually do." He pointed towards a section of the pitch where a series of brightly colored cones had been set up in a zig-zag pattern, leading towards a small, unguarded goal. Another set of cones marked a starting point about thirty yards away. An assistant stood ready with a pile of balls. "First assessment: Dribbling under pressure. Speed of execution. Finishing composure." He looked at the assistant. "Liu, run them through it."
Assistant Coach Liu stepped forward. "Right. Simple drill. But do it *well*." His voice was brisk. "Start here." He pointed to the first set of cones. "Dribble through the zig-zag pattern as fast as you can, *close control*. Exit the last cone, accelerate towards the goal, and finish first time. Low and hard. Placement over power, but don't dawdle. We're timing it. We're watching every touch. Five attempts each. Go when your name is called. First up… Zhang Wei!"
The tall center back stepped forward, looking slightly out of his element. He collected a ball, took a deep breath, and set off. His touch was heavy, the ball often bouncing too far ahead as he navigated the tight cones. He fumbled, corrected, finally broke free and rushed towards the goal, lashing a shot that flew high over the crossbar. Coach Liang scribbled something on his clipboard, his expression impassive.
One by one, the hopefuls went. Some were quick but sloppy through the cones. Some had decent control but lacked explosive pace after exiting. Many snatched at the finish, sending shots wide or high. Wei Jiang was called. He moved with fluid confidence, the ball seemingly glued to his feet as he weaved through the cones with minimal deceleration. He exploded out of the final turn, covered the ground to the goal in a few powerful strides, and side-footed a precise, low shot just inside the near post. Clean. Efficient. Impressive. Coach Liang gave a barely perceptible nod.
Kai watched, analyzing. The cones were tighter than anything on the Phoenix District concrete. The grass was faster. The pressure of the coaches' eyes was immense. His turn was coming. He felt the familiar buzz in his nerves, the pre-performance energy that always sharpened his focus. He thought of the alleyway, of Yuelin's words: *Direct. Take players on. Show them the fire.* This wasn't players, it was cones. But the principle was the same. Control. Speed. Precision. Finish.
"Lin Kai!"
His name echoed. The moment crystallized. He stepped forward, blocking out the other boys, the watching coaches, even the distant thought of Yuelin waiting outside. There was only the ball at his feet, the pattern of cones, and the small goal ahead. He took a final, centering breath, collected the ball from Assistant Liu, and placed it at the starting point. He glanced up the path. *Direct.* He nudged the ball forward, leaned into his first touch, and exploded into motion. The world narrowed to the next cone, the next touch. The ball obeyed, staying close, kissing his instep, his outside foot, darting through the gaps with a speed and tight control that surprised even him. It felt… natural. Like breathing. He exited the final cone cleanly, the smooth turf welcoming his burst of acceleration. The goal rushed towards him. *Low and hard. Placement.* He didn't break stride. One final touch to set himself, then his right foot connected cleanly, lacing the ball low and hard, drilling it with unerring accuracy just inside the far post. The net rippled satisfyingly.
He pulled up, breathing slightly harder, turning back towards the starting point. He met Assistant Liu's eyes, then dared a glance at Coach Liang. The head coach's expression hadn't changed, but his eyes… they were fixed on Kai. Watching. Assessing. He gave no sign, simply made another note on his clipboard and called the next name. "Wang Lei!"
Kai walked back to the group, the adrenaline singing in his veins. He'd done it. First test. First step on the hallowed turf. He'd shown a glimpse of what Phoenix District could make. He looked towards the high fence, towards the cafe where Yuelin waited. *I did it,* he thought, the fire burning bright. *First star.* Four more to go.