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

Kearney Training Base.

As today's training session drew to a close, the players walked towards the locker room in twos and threes, their boisterous laughter echoing across the empty field.

Yan Yuan was discussing a detail of their teamwork during the training session with Saka and Odegaard when he went to take a shower.

At that moment, Wenger's voice came from behind.

"Yan, stay a moment. I'd like to talk to you about something."

Upon hearing the sound, Yan Yuan paused in his steps.

Turning around, I saw Wenger standing on the sidelines, the afterglow of the setting sun outlining his slightly thin but still upright figure, his silver hair gently swaying in the breeze.

He nodded, gestured to Saka and the others to go back first, and then jogged quickly toward Wenger.

"Coach, you wanted to see me?" Yan Yuan asked in a light tone.

He scored two beautiful goals during the tactical drill this afternoon, and I thought Wenger was going to discuss new tactical arrangements with him.

Wenger patted the seat next to him, his smile appearing especially gentle in the soft light of the setting sun.

"Sit down, kid. We're not talking about tactics today."

Yan Yuan sat down on the bench as instructed.

He noticed that Wenger didn't bring his tactics board today.

Moreover, Wenger's ever-sharp eyes were now gazing at the distant sunset, an emotion that was hard to describe.

"You've done exceptionally well this season," Wenger began, his voice softer than usual, "even better than I expected, not just in goals and assists... but also in your leadership, your mental attributes, everything about you..."

Yan Yuan touched the back of his neck somewhat embarrassedly.

"Coach, it's because you've placed so much trust in me."

"No, Yan," Wenger shook his head gently, the setting sun turning his silver hair a warm gold.

"It's because you are capable enough."

"I've been coaching for over thirty years, seen countless geniuses, and mentored many outstanding players..." He paused, turned his head, and looked directly into Yan Yuan's eyes, "but I've never encountered a player like you, never."

Yan Yuan was stunned.

He had heard many compliments, but hearing Wenger say such things left him speechless.

"I'm telling the truth," Wenger continued.

"Henry has his elegance, Bergkamp has his magic, Vieira has his strength... but none of them are you. Your all-around abilities, your learning capacity, your will."

At this point, Wenger smiled slightly.

"Sometimes... when I look at you, I feel like the god of football has finally smiled on this old stubborn guy."

Yan Yuan felt a tightness in his throat.

He had never heard Professor Wenger express himself so bluntly before, which flattered him but also made him inexplicably uneasy.

"Coach, what's wrong with you today? Why are you suddenly saying these things...?"

Yan Yuan didn't finish his sentence because he saw a look in Wenger's eyes that he had never seen before.

Wenger took a deep breath and turned his gaze back to the setting sun.

"Yan, I'm retiring after this season."

The air seemed to freeze.

Yan Yuan blinked, wondering if he had misheard.

"Wh...what? Coach?"

"I'm getting old, my child," Wenger said softly, his smile unchanged.

"At seventy years old, my heart can no longer stay up all night analyzing game videos until three in the morning like when I was young, and my body can no longer withstand the torment of continuous flying competitions."

"Last week's Champions League match against PSG, I even needed to take painkillers at halftime to finish the game."

Yan Yuan stared blankly at the coach's profile, the setting sun casting deep and shallow shadows on his wrinkled face.

He suddenly noticed Wenger's hand on his knee.

Those hands that once passionately directed from the sidelines are now covered in age spots and tremble slightly.

"No... Coach..." Yan Yuan murmured, his throat tightening.

"You can't... Arsenal needs you, we all need you..."

Wenger turned to look at his protégé, his eyes filled with tenderness and helplessness.

"No one in the world of football is irreplaceable, Yan. Even Ferguson eventually left."

Wenger chuckled self-deprecatingly and said,

"Now... I'm more used to sitting on the sidelines during training than standing and directing. My body is telling me that the time has come."

Yan Yuan lowered his head, feeling his vision becoming a little blurry.

He recalled that when he was injured last season, the old man went to the hospital with others to take care of him.

I remember that after he joined Arsenal, the old man gave him targeted tactical design, answered his questions, and trained him.

He recalled that after winning important matches, he and his teammates always liked to toss Wenger up in the air and catch him safely.

"Coach, I thought... we could win even more together..." Yan Yuan's voice gradually lowered.

Wenger gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Of course you'll win more, but then I won't be the one sitting on the coach's bench anymore."

The old man paused for a moment, then his tone became slightly brighter.

"So the reason I'm talking to you today is to ask you what your thoughts are about the new coach?"

You are the core of Arsenal now and in the future, and your opinions matter.

"Don't worry, kid, the higher-ups will still give this old man face when it comes to choosing the next coach."

Yan Yuan shook his head blankly.

"Coach, I've never thought about this... I've never imagined Arsenal without you."

"But we must think about it now, son." Wenger's voice was gentle yet firm.

"For Arsenal's future, and for your career, you need a coach who knows how to use you better, someone who understands modern football and can continue Arsenal's philosophy."

A silence fell between the two, broken only by the occasional chirping of birds in the distance.

Yan Yuan took a deep breath and tried to concentrate.

He understood the significance of the coach's action; it was not a simple inquiry, but a profound expression of trust.

An Arsenal helmsman who is about to leave is looking for a new helmsman for the ship.

Yan Yuan took a deep breath, trying to calm his turbulent emotions, and finally spoke.

"Coach...I hope it's...Mr. Nagelsmann."

Wenger nodded slightly, a glint of admiration in his eyes, and said.

"Go on, child, I want to hear your thoughts."

"Coach, when I was at Hoffenheim, it was Nash who helped me understand the different dimensions of football."

It's not just about goals and assists, but also about spatial awareness, off-the-ball movement... He knows how to nurture young players and gives them opportunities.

As Yan Yuanyue spoke, his thoughts became clearer and clearer. He had a lot to say about Nasser.

"Mr. Nagelsmann advocates attacking football, emphasizes youth training, and... he knows how to adapt. The tactics he used to lead us to the title last season were completely tailored to the players' characteristics. I have grown a lot under his guidance, and his style is a good fit for Arsenal."

Wenger smiled and added to Yan Yuan's words.

"Moreover, he led you to an incredible achievement in the Champions League, reaching the semi-finals, which is a miracle for a club of Hoffenheim's size."

At this point, Wenger gazed thoughtfully at the setting sun, which was already half-submerged below the horizon.

"Hmm...not bad...he is indeed a good choice, passionate yet rational, the successor Arsenal needs."

"Coach...don't you think Nash is too young?" Yan Yuan asked.

Wenger chuckled and said.

"Young? Hahaha... Yan, I was not even forty when I took over Arsenal. Age has never been a problem; it's mindset and courage that are."

After saying this, Wenger slowly stood up, his joints making a slight cracking sound.

"Don't worry, I will recommend him to the board after this season. I believe my old eyes are still sharp and I can still judge people very well."

Yan Yuan also stood up, truly realizing the weight of this conversation. It was not only a heart-to-heart talk between teacher and student, but also a passing on of the torch at Arsenal.

Wenger reached out and gently straightened Yan Yuan's collar. This familiar and affectionate gesture made Yan Yuan's throat tighten again.

"Yan, football is a journey, and coaches and players are just passersby in it."

The important thing isn't that I'm leaving, but what I'm leaving behind. I left you for Arsenal, and you will leave even more for this place.

The sun had almost completely disappeared by this moment, leaving only a touch of orange-red afterglow on the western horizon.

The lights in the training field automatically turned on, casting a warm glow in the deepening twilight.

"Alright, you can go back now, child."

Wenger patted Yan Yuan on the back.

"There's training tomorrow, but life goes on."

Yan Yuan stood there, watching the old man's slightly unsteady figure slowly walk towards the changing room.

At that moment, he suddenly realized that Wenger's back looked much thinner than usual, and his steps were no longer as firm as they used to be.

"Coach!" he suddenly shouted.

Wenger turned around and stopped at the boundary between the lamplight and the twilight.

"Thank you, Coach," Yan Yuan said loudly, "for everything here."

Wenger smiled, a smile that looked incredibly warm under the lights.

"Thank you as well, Yan, for making the final chapter of my coaching career so wonderful."

"Remember this desire for victory, remember your love for football, carry it with you, and you will become a great player, a true leader."

Wenger gave Yan Yuan one last deep look, his gaze complex and indescribable, filled with expectation and pride.

Then, he turned around, took a step, and walked steadily and firmly towards the entrance of the side passage, following the shadow lengthened by the setting sun.

Yan Yuan watched Wenger's figure finally disappear at the end of the passage.

"call……"

He took a deep breath of the cool air.

The atmosphere tonight is particularly somber.