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

On the new training day, Arsenal players, having returned from their rest period, arrived at the training ground one after another.

The smoke from the UEFA Nations League has not yet completely cleared.

All eyes are now on the soon-to-be-restarted Premier League.

And then there was the Golden Globe Awards ceremony, which took the world by storm just two weeks later.

Today, when Yan Yuan drove into the base gate, he immediately sensed an unusual atmosphere.

At the entrance of the base, the huge electronic welcome screen no longer displays the club emblem or team photos, but instead features a striking giant poster.

In the center of the poster is a picture of him wearing Arsenal's number 7 jersey, opening his arms and roaring to the sky after scoring a goal at the Emirates Stadium.

Below, a line of striking gold text reads: 【Gunman Yan】

"My God, what is the club doing..." Yan Yuan rolled down the car window and stared in disbelief at the poster that almost filled the entire screen.

He parked his car and walked toward the locker room, the sights along the way causing him to pause slightly.

The lampposts along the tree-lined path leading to the main training ground, which originally displayed photos of the club's legendary players, have now quietly changed.

Bergkamp, ​​Henry, Vieira, Adams...

These legendary figures remain, but several large photographs of him have been added in between.

His triumphant smile after defeating Chelsea;

There's a passionate moment of his knee slide celebration after a long run against Tottenham;

And there was his piety as he pointed to the sky after scoring a crucial goal while wearing the England jersey at the World Cup;

Even more noteworthy is his backflip shot while wearing Arsenal's number 7 jersey in the Premier League... His highlight moments have been carefully selected and amplified, standing shoulder to shoulder with the club's legends!

"Brother Yan! Look! You're the 'cover person' of the base now!" As soon as Yan Yuan got out of the car, Saka ran up from behind and patted him on the shoulder with a smile.

"The club has really gone all out." Yan Yuan looked at the photos and felt a warm feeling well up in his heart.

Stepping into the locker room, the atmosphere became even more enthusiastic.

His teammates surrounded him, congratulating him on his amazing performance in the UEFA Nations League and his record-breaking header.

Aubameyang laughed and imitated his jumping motion:

"Yan! Are you wearing springs? 2.6 meters! My god! Teach me next time you train!"

Ramsey patted him on the back: "Well done, bro! I'm rooting for you at the Ballon d'Or ceremony in two weeks!"

In the center of the locker room, below where a large portrait of Wenger used to hang, a brand new poster has appeared.

The poster shows Yan Yuan's profile during training, with clearly defined muscles and sharp, eagle-like eyes.

The smaller print below reads: "Focus on the present, create legends!"

"Coach..." Yan Yuan looked at Professor Wenger standing next to the poster.

Wenger walked over with a gentle and expectant smile and patted him on the shoulder.

"Yan, this is the club's recognition and support for you. You deserve all of this, but remember," he pointed to the words on the poster, "focus on the present. The Ballon d'Or is an honor, but it's not the end. You have a long way to go."

"I understand, Coach." Yan Yuan nodded vigorously, his eyes resolute.

……

This publicity storm surrounding Yan Yuan was not a sudden occurrence.

Yesterday, in the strategic meeting room of Arsenal's senior management, the matter was already discussed and agreed upon.

"Everyone," Venkat said, standing in front of the projection screen, which displayed Yan Yuan's various stats and list of honors.

"With half a month to go before the Ballon d'Or ceremony, Yan Yuan is currently our club's most promising player to challenge for this highest honor!"

Last season's Bundesliga champion, key player in the Champions League semi-finals, Bundesliga Golden Boot winner, Champions League Golden Boot winner, and World Cup Golden Boot winner! Each achievement is enough to go down in history!

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the assembled business director Oliver, marketing director Peter, and head coach Wenger:

"Gentlemen, as we all know, 2018 is the World Cup year, and the selection of World Cup matches carries great weight."

Modric, as a key player in the World Cup runner-up, has a huge advantage.

Although Yan Yuan's individual statistics are explosive, his national team performance and age are objective disadvantages; after all, there has never been an 18-year-old Ballon d'Or winner in history.

"Therefore," Venkatshan changed the subject, his tone becoming firm,

"This time, our publicity goal is not to unrealistically demand that Yan Yuan immediately lift the Golden Globe Award; that requires the right timing, location, and people."

Our core objective is: First, to maximize Yan Yuan's global profile and influence! Leveraging this excellent opportunity of a Ballon d'Or nomination, we will deeply imprint his image as the "highest-paid player in the Premier League," a "three-time Golden Boot winner," a "header record holder," and an "18-year-old prodigy" in the minds of fans worldwide!

To develop Yan Yuan into Arsenal's most recognizable and influential super IP in the global market.

Second, we must do everything we can to improve his ranking in the final Ballon d'Or voting! Our bottom line is to ensure he makes the top ten! Strive for the top five! We could even challenge for the top three!

If Yan Yuan can make it into the top three for the Ballon d'Or, it will be the highest ranking ever achieved by an Asian player in the history of the Ballon d'Or, which is no less significant than winning the award itself. This will also lay a solid foundation for his future Ballon d'Or aspirations!

"This is our action plan," Venkatshan said, pointing to the screen.

On the screen was the complete campaign plan devised by the Venkat Mountain team.

Online, the official website, and all social media platforms launched the hashtag "#YanYuanStrivesForGoldenBall#". Highlights of Yan Yuan's career, documentary clips, interviews, and training glimpses were released.

We created creative interactive posters, collaborated with sponsors, and bought out prime advertising slots on major global sports media outlets to feature Yan Yuan's image.

Offline, Yan Yuan's image is everywhere – inside and outside the Emirates Stadium, at the Colney training ground, on the London Underground, at bus stops, and in large shopping malls. The club's official store has launched a "Yan Yuan Golden Ball Special Edition" jersey, scarf, and poster! Fan autograph sessions are also being organized.

At the same time, we also need to contact well-known football media personalities, commentators, and retired legends around the world to write in-depth analysis articles, emphasizing the terrifying, comprehensive, and age-specific nature of Yan Yuan's data.

Venkat Mountain's thinking was very comprehensive.

"Gentlemen, this is a battle! A crucial battle for Arsenal's future core, for enhancing the club's global brand value!" Venkatshan's voice was firm and powerful. "We must show the world Arsenal's determination! Show the world Yan Yuan's value! Alright, let's move out!"

The meeting room erupted in enthusiastic applause.

Professor Wenger nodded slightly, a look of satisfaction in his eyes.

He knew the rules for selecting the Golden Globe and the power struggles behind it, but he had even more faith in Yan Yuan's talent and potential.

The club's full support has undoubtedly given this rising star wings to take flight.

On the training field today, Yan Yuan was still the most focused and dedicated player.

He ignored the noticeably increased media cameras on the sidelines and also ignored the huge posters of "himself" that were everywhere in the training base.

Warm-up, passing and receiving drills, group scrimmages, tactical exercises...

He approached every training session with the same meticulousness and dedication as always.

During a scrimmage, he received a through pass from Rodri, and facing Pepe's defense, he made a deft nutmeg change of direction, instantly getting past his opponent and dribbling into the penalty area.

Facing the onrushing goalkeeper Martinez, he did not try to score, but instead used the instep of his left foot to deliver a cross with perfect power and angle.

Aubameyang, arriving at the far post, easily tapped the ball into the empty net.

"Great shot! Yan!" Aubameyang laughed and ran over to give him a high five.

"Beautiful pass!" Martinez shouted.

Yan Yuan simply smiled, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and quickly ran back to his position.

He enjoys the feeling of being in control on the court.

The noise and praise from the outside world, like the sound of the wind by the training field, could not shake the rock in his heart.

He remembered what his coach told him: Focus on the present moment.

After training, he went to the sidelines to drink water.

Assistant coach Boulder handed him a tablet:

"Yan, the club's marketing department needs your cooperation in shooting a few new sets of promotional photos for the Ballon d'Or campaign. Also, the interview with France Football is scheduled for the afternoon after tomorrow."

Yan Yuan nodded: "Okay, I understand, thank you, sir."

He understands the club's arrangements and is willing to cooperate.

This is part of the responsibility.

……

On the other side of London.

Inside an office building in the City of London, at Goldman Sachs' London headquarters, is the emergency projects team office of the Foreign Exchange and Commodities Strategy Department.

The company's intense work schedule, which had lasted for several weeks, has finally come to an end.

Lin Jianwei sat at her workstation, her back still straight, but the weariness between her brows and eyes was so deep that it couldn't be dispelled.

Her face was pale, and under her eyes were dark circles that even concealer could not completely cover.

The continuous all-nighters, the battles against the deluge of data, and the fight against market panic nearly drained her of her energy.

Xiaolin rubbed his throbbing temples, looked at the final project report and risk control plan submitted on the screen, and let out a long, silent breath.

"Lin, you've worked hard." The project manager walked over, his face showing approval and a hint of apology. "The most difficult phase is over. The senior management is very satisfied with the report. The core hedging strategy and stress test model you proposed have saved us and our clients billions of pounds in potential losses. Well done! Your project team is given a week of paid leave to rest well."

"Thank you, sir." Lin Jianwei forced a smile, her voice hoarse.

Her tense nerves suddenly relaxed, and fatigue surged over her like a tidal wave, making her feel as if all her strength had been drained from her body.

I finally don't have to work overtime today.

Lin Jianwei turned off her computer, packed her backpack, and walked out of the office with slightly unsteady steps.

She declined her colleagues' invitation to dinner, now only wanting to quickly return to her cozy little apartment where she could completely relax.

On her way home, the cold wind blew on her face, making her shiver and instinctively wrap her trench coat tighter.

Back in her apartment, she kicked off her high heels and, without even having the energy to change her clothes, collapsed onto the soft sofa.

The moment my body sank in, it felt as if every cell was letting out a satisfied sigh.

She habitually reached for her phone, her fingers unconsciously swiping the screen.

News push notifications, financial news updates...

Then, a sports news article about "Yan Yuan's header breaks record, officially certified by UEFA for collection" caught my eye.

She opened the news and watched the slow-motion replay.

Yan Yuan shot up like a rocket, overpowering all the other players, and smashed the ball into the net.

2.61 meters, officially certified!

UEFA has acquired the official match ball.

The accompanying picture shows Yan Yuan's domineering moment after scoring a goal, with his arms outstretched and a roar to the sky.

A faint smile involuntarily appeared on Lin Jianwei's pale face, his eyes filled with appreciation and a hint of barely perceptible pride.

"Wow, that's amazing..." she thought to herself.

As I swiped my finger, I saw Arsenal's overwhelming promotional posters and the words "Yan Yuan Ballon d'Or".

She opened Yan Yuan's homepage.

The pinned post is his reply to UEFA, humbly and sincerely attributing the honor to the team and the opponents.

The comments section was filled with star players and overflowing with praise. Lin Jianwei read through them one by one, her smile deepening.

A strange impulse welled up inside me.

She opened WeChat and found the pinned chat box.

Today, she took the initiative to send a message to Yan Yuan.

After hesitating for a moment, he tapped his finger on the screen:

[Lin Jianwei: Congratulations, Yan Yuan! I saw the news! A header from 2.61 meters! That's incredible!]

She typed another message:

[Lin Jianwei: Oh right, I promised you I'd come watch your game. I checked the schedule, and your next match is a Champions League group stage game against Young Boys at home tomorrow. I bought tickets, and the seats are pretty good, in the first row on the east side. I shouldn't break my promise this time.]

The message has been sent.

Lin Jianwei felt her cheeks burning and her heart beating faster.

She put down her phone, closed her eyes, and tried to calm herself down.

The deep fatigue emanating from my body became even more pronounced, and my head was also throbbing slightly.

My phone vibrated.

Lin Jianwei immediately picked it up and looked at it.

[Yan Yuan: Senior, you're coming to watch the game?! That's great! Getting a front-row seat is really too much for you, but I could actually get you a ticket.]

[Yan Yuan: Just watch how I beat them in this match, senior. Last time we thrashed them 7-0 away, this one should be even more exciting, hehe]

Seeing Yan Yuan's series of replies filled with surprise and sunshine, Lin Jianwei felt some of the weariness in her heart dissipate. She replied:

[Lin Jianwei: Don't worry, I've already bought the tickets. I didn't want to trouble you too much in the first place. Just play well, be careful, and I look forward to seeing your amazing performance live.]

[Yan Yuan: OK, thank you, senior. I will definitely do my best! [Grinning face]]

Chat ended.

Lin Jianwei put down her phone and completely relaxed.

The sky outside the window gradually darkened. The apartment was dark, with only the faint light from her phone screen illuminating her tired but content face.

She recalled Yan Yuan's words about giving it her all, and then thought about her current state, and smiled helplessly.

Lin Jianwei felt as if her body was filled with lead, and her eyelids were so heavy that she could hardly lift them.

She struggled to sit up and change into more comfortable clothes, but as soon as she propped herself up, a strong wave of dizziness washed over her.

"Ugh..." she groaned, her vision went black for a moment, and she saw stars.

My body slumped back onto the sofa uncontrollably, my heart pounding in my chest, and cold sweat instantly soaked my back.

She leaned against the sofa armrest, panting heavily, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

After a while, the dizziness gradually subsided, but the feeling of weakness in my body and the dull pain in my head became even more pronounced.

She raised her hand and touched her forehead; she seemed to have a slight fever.

"It seems... I've really overworked myself lately..." she murmured to herself, her voice tinged with helplessness and weakness.

She gave up on getting up, curled up on the sofa, pulled over a thin blanket, and casually covered herself with it.

The phone slipped from her hand and fell into the gap of the sofa. The screen was still lit, showing her chat with Yan Yuan.

The apartment was quiet, with only her faint, slightly rapid breathing.

In the last moments before her consciousness sank into sleep, what flashed through her mind was the sea of ​​red at the Emirates Stadium, and that radiant figure running on the green field.

She murmured, "I'll definitely go see the next match..."

Lin Jianwei then fell into a deep sleep; she was too tired.