After Paris Saint-Germain was removed from the list, I led England to victory!

In mid-November, the international match days arrive once again.

It's time to say goodbye again.

Arsenal's first-team players gathered in twos and threes at the entrance of the main building of the training ground, their suitcases resting at their feet.

Today, the usual hustle and bustle was gone, replaced by a quiet and reluctance as people prepared to embark on their journeys.

Professor Wenger stood on the steps, his silver hair neatly combed, and his dark blue trench coat accentuated his tall and straight figure.

His gaze swept calmly over the group of disciples who were about to head to their respective national teams, his eyes filled with the kindness and expectation unique to a teacher.

"Rodri, the Spanish team assembled early this time. Be careful on the road, cooperate well with Busquets and the others, and control the midfield tempo." Wenger patted Rodri on the shoulder, his voice gentle.

"Yes, boss! Don't worry!" Rodri nodded vigorously.

"Odegaard, you have a heavy burden in the Norwegian team. Stay calm and continue to use your creativity." Wenger turned to the Norwegian talent.

"Understood, boss! I will!" Odegaard's eyes were firm.

"Cancelo, Pepe, this is a crucial match for Portugal. We need to be tough on defense and decisive on the counter-attack, especially you, Cancelo. Pay attention to the timing of your marking and defend well," Wenger instructed the two Portuguese internationals.

"Roger that, boss!" the two replied in unison.

"Aubameyang, Achraf, have a good holiday and spend time with your families. But don't completely relax, stay in shape," Wenger told the non-European internationals who were about to enjoy their vacation.

"Don't worry, boss! I guarantee I'll be back in top form!" Aubameyang grinned, revealing his signature big white teeth. Ashraf nodded with a smile as well.

"And Martinez..."

Wenger patiently gave each player some advice.

At this moment, the old man was like a parent seeing their child off on a long journey, attending to every detail with earnest words.

The players listened attentively, feeling the care and trust from their head coach.

When Wenger's gaze finally landed on Yan Yuan, the lines on his face seemed to soften a little.

It was Yan Yuan's turn.

He was the last to walk over, carrying a simple sports backpack over his shoulder.

He walked up to Wenger, but didn't speak immediately. He just looked into the professor's calm, ocean-like eyes.

"Coach," he said softly.

Wenger looked at him with a gentle yet complex smile on his face.

He opened his arms, and Yan Yuan stepped forward, and the two shared a firm hug.

This hug was tighter than the previous ones.

Wenger slapped Yan Yuan hard on the back twice.

"Yan," Wenger's voice was deep and clear, carrying an undeniable expectation.

"Arsenal needs you, and England needs you too."

You're already the core player, their future. Give it your all in this match! Lead England like you did at Arsenal! Conquer the Nations League!

Yan Yuan felt the weight of the professor's words and the profound trust in him, and he nodded vigorously.

"Don't worry, Coach! I will!"

He paused, looking at the professor's increasingly prominent silver hairs at his temples and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, his tone carrying a hint of barely perceptible concern.

"Coach, you also need to take care of your health and not overwork yourself. Kearney... you're really pushing yourself too hard."

Wenger paused for a moment, then a hint of warmth flashed in his eyes.

He loosened his embrace, placed his hands on Yan Yuan's shoulders, looked into his eyes, and a relieved smile appeared on his lips.

"You brat, worrying about me now? Don't worry, my old bones are still taut! Go on! Play your game! We'll be waiting for you!"

"Yes!" Yan Yuan smiled, his smile full of confidence and strength.

He gave Wenger's hand a final firm squeeze before turning and walking toward his car.

He opened the car door, sat in the driver's seat, and looked through the car window at the tall, somewhat lonely figure under the porch once again.

Professor Wenger remained standing there, his hands back in his trench coat pockets, his gaze following Yan Yuan's car as it slowly started to move and merged into the departing traffic.

His eyes held pride, expectation, concern, and a sense that "a fledgling eagle will eventually soar."

Until the taillights of the last car disappeared around the corner of the base gate.

Professor Wenger slowly turned around and walked alone into the empty training base building.

Kearney base has temporarily returned to calm.

It awaits its children's triumphant return from the international arena.

……

Yan Yuan drove through the slightly congested streets of London, heading towards a villa area in North London.

This tranquil environment, shaded by green trees, is his little haven where he can escape the hustle and bustle and find peace within himself.

The villa was warm and clean.

He put down his backpack and changed into comfortable loungewear.

Outside the window, several unidentified birds hopped and chirped on the branches.

A rare tranquility enveloped him.

He did not allow himself to become complacent.

After a short rest, he went into his study.

I need to keep studying today.

Yan Yuan logged into Imperial College London's online learning platform.

For an undergraduate computer science student, academic studies are another important battleground outside of his professional career.

The screen lit up, he put on his headphones, and entered the live broadcast room for today's "Advanced Algorithm Analysis" course.

Professor Chris's rigorous and logical voice came through the headphones, while complex formulas and algorithm flowcharts scrolled across the screen.

Yan Yuan was completely focused, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he took notes.

He would sometimes frown in thought, and sometimes quickly work out calculations on the draft paper.

Time complexity analysis of algorithms, space optimization strategies, discussion of NP-complete problems...

Don't be intimidated by the fact that the content is difficult.

He actually enjoys this collision of ideas and the acquisition of knowledge.

The one-and-a-half-hour class ended.

He felt as if his brain had undergone an exhilarating mental workout, leaving him exhausted yet fulfilled.

After closing his laptop, Yan Yuan did not get up immediately.

He leaned back in his large chair, his gaze fixed on the huge projection screen next to his desk.

He picked up the remote and turned on the home theater system.

After finishing his online classes, he needs to clear his head and watch a few games to absorb some new insights.

Instead of selecting the latest match highlights, Yan Yuan clicked on his treasured collection of classic match videos.

First match: 2013/14 El Clásico

Yan Yuan's gaze was fixed on the two legends.

He watched Ronaldo's unstoppable sprints and powerful headers, and admired Messi's ghostly dribbling and pinpoint through balls. He repeatedly replayed key moments: Xavi and Iniesta's exquisite midfield orchestration, Ramos and Pique's life-or-death battle in the penalty area, Bale's classic overtaking maneuver on the outside...

He carefully analyzed the decision-making logic, positioning art, and explosive power of the top players of that era, drawing inspiration from them.

I wrote down everything I learned in my notebook.

The second match I watched was the 2014 FIFA World Cup final in Brazil.

While Götze's winning goal was certainly spectacular, Yan Yuan was more focused on the tactical maneuvering throughout the match.

The German team's disciplined teamwork, efficient pressing, and precise passing and movement;

Argentina relied on Messi's individual brilliance to break through defenses and the team's united defense.

He repeatedly watched how the German team patiently broke through Argentina's defense and how they seized fleeting opportunities in extra time.

Klose's positioning, Müller's support, Neuer's dominance on the goal line... all left him in awe.

The third match I watched was the 2014/15 UEFA Champions League final.

This match was a magnificent performance by the MSN duo!

Neymar's agility, Suarez's cunning, and Messi's control of the game.

Yan Yuan pays particular attention to the ultimate ball control art of Barcelona midfielder "Xavi, Iniesta and Busquets".

How they weave a net with their passes, how they control the game with their rhythm, and how they deliver a fatal blow to their opponents while seemingly strolling leisurely.

He also observed the organization of Juventus's ironclad defense and Buffon's enduring strength despite his age.

Three matches, three styles, three eras.

Yan Yuan was completely absorbed in it, pausing occasionally to jot down his observations in his notebook; at other times he would fast forward or slow down to capture those textbook-like details.

His notebook has been filled with new content.

This is his second notebook, and it's almost finished too.

That's right, Yan Yuan's first notebook in Hoffenheim was already full of notes.

……

After watching the game, it was completely dark outside the window, and warm lights were turned on inside the villa.

Yan Yuan rubbed his slightly sore eyes and glanced at the time.

He picked up his phone, opened WeChat, and found the pinned chat box.

[Yan Yuan: Senior, are you busy?]

This time, Lin Jianwei replied to her message almost instantly.

[Lin Jianwei: Just got home, about to grab something to eat. What about you? Are you all packed? What time is your flight tomorrow?]

Yan Yuan's fingers flew across the keyboard:

[Yan Yuan: Everything's packed. My flight to the training camp is at 8 AM tomorrow. I just finished watching some classic match recordings, and I'm a little excited. By the way, senior, I didn't quite understand that variation of the knapsack problem in the NP-complete problem discussed in today's online algorithm class—the one with the constraints…]

He described in detail where he got stuck.

Lin Jianwei quickly replied with a written explanation, which was clear, logical and rigorous.

But as Yan Yuan looked at the dense text on the screen, he felt that something was missing.

He asked Lin Jianwei if it would be convenient to talk via video, as typing was too inefficient.

Lin Jianwei agreed.

A few seconds later, the video call connected.

Lin Jianwei's face appeared on the screen, with the familiar bookshelves and warm lighting from her apartment in the background.

However, Yan Yuan's brows furrowed instantly.

Today, Lin Jianwei, on the other side of the screen, looked noticeably paler than when they last met.

She had heavy, undeniable dark circles under her eyes, and her eyes revealed deep fatigue; she looked haggard.

Lin Jianwei seemed to have just washed her face; her hair was still damp and stuck to her forehead, adding to her delicate appearance.

"Oh my god, senior..." Yan Yuan's voice was filled with obvious worry, "What... what's wrong with you? You look so pale? Your dark circles are so bad? Are you sick?"

Lin Jianwei seemed surprised that Yan Yuan would call directly via video. She subconsciously raised her hand to cover her face, but then lowered it again, forcing a smile.

"No...it's nothing, I'm just...a little tired lately."

"A little tired?" Yan Yuan's tone turned serious. "You call this 'a little tired'? You look like you haven't slept for days! Is the work pressure at the company too much?"

Faced with Yan Yuan's concerned gaze and straightforward question.

Lin Jianwei sighed, no longer trying to hide it.

"Hmm... The project team has been very busy lately, with several deadlines looming together."

Although the company's closing time isn't particularly late, I still have to deal with emails, analyze data, and write reports after I get home... often working until the early hours of the morning. Weekends are basically also consumed by it.

Lin Jianwei rubbed his temples and said apologetically.

"Originally... I bought tickets to watch your last home game against Wolves, but there was a last-minute international video conference that afternoon that went on very late, so I couldn't go..."

Her tone carried a hint of regret and apology.

"I'm sorry, Yan Yuan, I promised to go watch your match, but I stood you up..."

"Senior, what time is it?" Yan Yuan interrupted her, his tone filled with unquestionable concern.

"It's just a game. If you didn't come, you didn't come. In your current state, what's the point of watching a game? The noise from the stadium could knock you over."

Senior, if you have any free time lately, the first thing you should do is rest. Sleep for three days and three nights straight at home! Catch up on your sleep. Compared to your health, sports games are worthless, understand?

Looking at Yan Yuan's furrowed brows and worried eyes on the screen, Lin Jianwei felt a warmth in her heart, her nose tingled slightly, and she nodded gently, showing a rare "girlish" demeanor.

"Um...I know."

"Senior, how long have you had this condition? Have you seen a doctor?" Yan Yuan pressed.

"This can't go on like this. Listen, senior, I know a few of the best clinics in London. I know people there who can help you make an appointment! Tomorrow… no, right now! I'll get in touch with them for you!"

"No, no, no!" Lin Jianwei quickly waved her hands, her face slightly flushed.

"Really, it's not necessary! Yan Yuan! It's not that serious! I've just been working a lot of overtime lately and I'm a bit exhausted. Once this project's deadline is over, I'll get a good two-day rest and I'll recover! Really! You don't need to trouble yourself!"

Lin Jianwei didn't want to alarm Yan Yuan over such a small matter; that would be too much of an overreaction.

Seeing her anxious expression, Yan Yuan knew she was easily embarrassed and didn't insist any further, so he emphasized...

"Okay... Senior, you know I'm an athlete, I understand the importance of physical health all too well."

If you can go to bed early these days, do so. If you really can't hold on, don't force yourself. Taking a day off is also an option; your health is the foundation of everything.

My turn, senior. You're different from me. My home is in London, but you're all alone in London, in a foreign country. You need to take good care of yourself.

His tone was earnest, with an almost nagging concern.

"Well... if you need any help with anything, like making an appointment at the clinic or watching a game, just give me a call. I can definitely help with these little things."

These words were spoken with sincerity and even carried a concern that went beyond that of ordinary friends.

Yan Yuan himself probably didn't even realize it.

What he just said.

The tension and concern in their words went far beyond the scope of "senior and junior students".

There was some ambiguity involved.

As Lin Jianwei listened, the blush on her cheeks deepened, spreading all the way to her ears.

She kept her head down, not daring to look at Yan Yuan's burning gaze on the screen, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes, her voice barely audible.

"Okay... I understand... Thank you, Yan Yuan... I'll be careful..."

The two chatted for a few more minutes about everyday things, the atmosphere filled with a subtle shyness and warmth.

Finally, Lin Jianwei raised her head and tried to put on a smile.

"Yan Yuan, you should get some rest too. Good luck! Wishing you all the best in the UEFA Nations League!"

"Okay, thank you, senior!" Yan Yuan smiled, his eyes softening. "Senior, you should also get some rest and take care of yourself. I'll treat you to a meal when I get back!"

"Hmm... okay." Lin Jianwei nodded softly.

The video call ended.

The screen went dark.

Yan Yuan leaned back in his chair, gazing at the deep night outside the window. The anticipation and excitement he felt for the competition seemed to be shrouded in a thin mist called longing.

During our chat, Yan Yuan kept calling me "senior sister," making him think he was doing the work of a "junior brother."

In fact, Yan Yuan himself did not realize it.

He's doing exactly what a boyfriend would do.

And on the other side of the screen.

Lin Jianwei held her slightly warm phone, leaning back on the sofa, her cheeks flushed for a long time.

The fatigue that had accumulated from work seemed to be gently washed away by an indescribable warmth.

The night in London is deep.