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

Yan Yuan's dormitory kitchen, which is usually quiet and deserted, is now bustling with activity, like it's Chinese New Year.

The stovetop is piled high with fresh ingredients just bought from the supermarket and market: tomatoes, eggplants, cucumbers, and various bottles of spices, etc.

"Come on, come on, watch our Eastern chef's performance!" Ute handed an apron to Yan Yuan, then rubbed his hands together, his eyes fixed on the pile of potatoes and cucumbers.

"Chef, do you need help peeling potatoes? Or smashing cucumbers? That sounds like a really fun idea."

"Yes, yes, I can peel potatoes!" Gnabry squeezed in and reached for the peeler next to him.

Yan Yuan quickly stopped them with a smile: "My great stars, I appreciate your kindness! Come on, go sit in the living room, I'll take care of the kitchen. This... procedure is a bit special, your help might... make me even busier."

He pointed to the already opened packages of peanut oil, cornstarch, and various forms of chili peppers and sauces.

"Especially the way my family does it, there are some tricks to it, so I have to do it."

Amiri looked at the bag of snow-white starch and curiously grabbed a handful: "This starch... it's like snow, what's it used for?"

"One of the secrets to making the meat crispy after frying is this," Yan Yuan explained, then abruptly pushed them out of the narrow kitchen area.

"Alright, guys, trust me, just wait outside for the aroma to waft out! I promise it won't 'poison' you." He jokingly shoved everyone outside to wait.

As the team leader, Vogt was quite composed. He nodded understandingly, "Okay, we'll listen to the chef. Today is Yan's stage."

He led the others back to the living room, but their eyes couldn't help but dart towards the kitchen doorway.

Yan Yuan closed the kitchen sliding door and took a deep breath.

The cramped space instantly became his personal stage. He deftly began preparing the ingredients.

Peel and cut the potatoes into chunks, remove the seeds from the green and red bell peppers and break them into pieces, cut the long eggplant into chunks and soak them in salt water to prevent oxidation, slice the pork belly and tenderloin and marinate them with seasonings...

Everything was in perfect order and flowed smoothly, as if it had been practiced a thousand times in the kitchen.

His eyes were focused, and his hands moved steadily and skillfully, flipping the wok, slicing, and coating the food with batter. His composure beyond his years vaguely reminded me of helping my mother cook when I was a child.

The air was filled with the rich aroma of vinegar mixed with the spiciness of minced ginger and garlic—the soul sauce that Yan Yuan was preparing for his sweet and sour pork.

Immediately afterwards, the slices of pork tenderloin coated in a thin layer of batter slid into the boiling hot oil. With a long "sizzle," the unique aroma of the oil embracing the protein exploded out.

"My God... what smells so good?" Gnabry was the first to get restless, craning his neck to look into the kitchen, only to see hot oil bubbling and the boy's focused profile.

"This...this is sweet and sour pork?" Amiri smelled the tempting sweet and sour aroma in the air, and her stomach growled.

Vogt tried to maintain his captain's dignity, but his throat bobbed slightly.

Ute had already slipped to the kitchen door, peeking through the crack: "Yan! It smells so good! Can I have a piece? Just a small piece!"

"Not ready yet, Ute, what's the rush?" Yan Yuan didn't turn his head, focusing intently on flipping the golden slices of meat in the oil, carefully controlling the heat.

"The sweet and sour sauce for the sweet and sour pork hasn't been added yet, go back and sit down!" The voice was smiling, but it also carried an undeniable chef's authority.

Just as the aroma filled the air and everyone was salivating, Vogt's phone rang.

He picked it up and gestured for the others to be quiet: "It's the coach calling."

On the other end of the phone, Nagelsmann's voice came through: "Vogt, I need to confirm a few adjustments to tomorrow's training with you..."

"Uh, Coach, I might not be very free right now..." Vogt said a little embarrassedly. Then, another loud sizzling sound came from the kitchen, and he had to explain.

"I'm with Yan... it's... us... um... Yan Yuan is keeping his promise after scoring a goal and personally cooking for us."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone, as if they were somewhat surprised by the situation.

"Yan? He can cook?"

Nagelsmann's voice carried a hint of disbelief as he imagined his exceptionally talented protégé wielding a ladle in the kitchen.

"Is Yan cooking Chinese food?"

"Yes, Coach," Vogt glanced at the several heads winking and making faces peeking out from the kitchen doorway.

"It smells amazing. Would you like to... come over for a meal and talk? Yan's cooking is definitely worth looking forward to." He boldly extended the invitation.

There was another pause on the other end of the phone, followed by Nagelsmann's chuckled voice: "Sounds like I missed a great goal celebration dinner. Of course, I'll be over in a bit, and I'll bring you some drinks along."

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

Vogt opened the door, and Nagelsmann, carrying two bags, stood outside.

He looked around the small apartment with curiosity, his gaze immediately drawn to the smoky aroma emanating from the kitchen and the clanging of spatulas.

The air was filled with a complex aroma of vinegar, soy sauce, oil, and the fresh scent of vegetables, so rich it was almost overwhelming.

"Coach!" Yan Yuan rubbed his hands and poked his head out of the kitchen upon hearing the voice. When he saw the person, a hint of youthful awkwardness flashed across his face, but it was quickly replaced by joy.

"What brings you here? Please come in! The food will be ready soon!" He never expected that his private cooking would attract his mentor.

Nagelsmann handed the bags to Vogt; one bag contained several bottles of high-quality German white wine, and the other bag contained juice and cola specially for Yan Yuan: "Congratulations on your brilliant game-winning shot, kid. And thank you for giving everyone, well, including me, the opportunity to experience Chinese flavors."

He smiled and glanced around at his disciples, who were crammed into the living room, clearly excited yet somewhat reserved.

"The atmosphere here is really nice."

He handed the juice to Yan Yuan: "Your share."

Yan Yuan quickly thanked him and accepted the gift.

"Do you need my help, Yan?" Nagelsmann asked symbolically.

"No need, no need! Please sit down!" Yan Yuan quickly waved his hand and skillfully pulled out the folding table in the living room.

"I'll make the last two dishes, it'll be quick!"

In the short time it took for the coach to sit down, the kitchen was already in the final sprint.

The iron wok made a "whooshing" sound as it rubbed against the high heat, while the hot oil sizzled and crackled.

Then came the final, exhilarating sound: the sizzling sound of sweet and sour sauce being poured into a scalding hot wok!

As a strong, sweet and sour aroma, infused with the smoky flavor of a wok, suddenly filled the air, the final step of making Guo Bao Rou (sweet and sour pork) was complete!

Then, the kitchen door was finally opened.

"Dinner's ready!"

Yan Yuan came out carrying two plates, his forehead beaded with sweat, and his cheeks slightly red from the smoke of the stove.

Behind him, on the kitchen stove, plates of tempting, fragrant dishes were steaming hot.

The dark red, glossy braised eggplant lay quietly on the plate, soaking up the sauce, soft and tempting; the golden, glossy, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside sweet and sour pork was piled up like a small mountain, with the amber-colored sweet and sour sauce crystal clear.

In the rich, dark brown "Three Treasures of the Earth" dish, the potatoes are golden and crispy, the eggplant is soft and tender, and the green peppers remain crisp; the bright green smashed cucumber is cut into chunks and piled up, drizzled with sesame oil and minced garlic, making it refreshing and neat.

The vibrant tomatoes blend together with the golden egg flowers, creating a juicy, sweet and sour flavor that whets the appetite.

There was even a small dish of pickled, crisp, and spicy radish strips and a small pot of rice. The table was instantly ignited by the colors and aromas.

"My God...!" Everyone couldn't help but exclaim in surprise.

"Wow! This looks so professional!" Ute was the first to be tempted to pick up his chopsticks.

"This... did you really make this yourself? It wasn't takeout?" Gnabry was still a little incredulous.

Nagelsmann was also full of surprise. He didn't say anything, but he expressed his expectation with his actions, picking up a plate and starting to serve rice.

There are no unnecessary rituals; with delicious food in front of you, hunger is the best alarm clock to start the meal.

Vogt picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork, and the thin, crispy outer layer conveyed a pleasant, slight resistance almost the instant it touched his chopsticks.

He took a bite, first his teeth broke through the extremely crispy thin coating, making a slight "crunch" sound, and then the tender, marinated pork tenderloin inside.

The intense sweet and sour flavor, along with the perfect amount of vinegar aroma, instantly assaults the taste buds, followed by the caramelized aroma of oil and the savory aftertaste.

He didn't say anything, but his eyes suddenly lit up, and he couldn't help but pick up another piece.

Gnabry has a special fondness for the "Three Delicacies of the Earth" (a dish of potatoes, eggplant, and green peppers), and he really enjoys eating Northeastern Chinese cuisine.

He scooped up a slice of eggplant that had soaked up the savory sauce and become soft and oily, paired it with a piece of potato that was crispy on the outside and powdery on the inside, and added a piece of green pepper.

The rich, dark soy sauce flavor, combined with various textures, burst in his mouth, and he exclaimed with satisfaction, "It's so delicious! This is perfect with rice!"

He shoveled a large mouthful of rice into his mouth in an instant.

Amiri specializes in the bright red tomato and egg stir-fry. He skillfully scoops a large spoonful and pours it over the rice. The plump egg flowers, along with the sweet and sour, slightly grainy tomato sauce, quickly permeate the snow-white rice grains.

He scooped up a large spoonful and put it in his mouth. The sweet and sour taste, mixed with the oily aroma of the scrambled eggs and the delicate sweetness of the rice, was rich and harmonious. He couldn't help but give it a thumbs up.

"Yan! I could eat this every day!"

Ute was like a greedy child, wanting to try everything. He ate several mouthfuls, sniffing his nose, which was slightly red from the spicy and sour radish strips, and exclaimed:

"My God! This is what Chinese food should be like! I swear! It's completely different from those overly sweet and greasy sauces I've had in restaurants before! This is...this is...the real taste!"

He waved his fork, his mouth stuffed with roasted eggplant, and mumbled incoherently.

Yan Yuan ate his meal somewhat shyly, paying attention to everyone's reactions. He was looking forward to their feedback.

He noticed that Amiri particularly liked the crispy fried pork, Gnabry would frequently reach for the sweet and sour pork, and Ute had a particular fondness for the salty and savory braised eggplant.

Vogt was also carefully tasting the flavor of each dish, especially the crispness and fragrance of the simple smashed cucumber, which made him unable to resist using the last slice of cucumber to dab the garlic and sesame oil sauce clean from the bottom of the plate.

Even Nagelsmann shed his usual seriousness on the training field and appeared unusually relaxed.

He especially loves the extreme contrast of flavors in Guo Bao Rou (sweet and sour pork) and the exquisite control of the heat, as well as the unique charm of simple yet heartwarming dishes like smashed cucumber and scrambled eggs with tomatoes.

He put down his fork and said sincerely to Yan Yuan, "Yan, I have to admit, every bite of your cooking feels very 'substantial,' quite different from the taste we're used to, but very... um... satisfying."

He swirled the white wine in his glass and continued, "This meal made me see my attacker in a new light, Yan. Just how many more surprises do you have in store for me?"

Yan Yuan blushed even more: "Coach, you flatter me. Actually, my mother taught me all of these. These are just some very ordinary home-cooked dishes."

Everyone ate and chatted, and the meal was over in a flash.

The plate emptied at a visible speed, and even the appetizing spicy and sour radish strips and the rice in the pot were completely devoured.

Everyone patted their bellies and let out satisfied sighs. Only a little oil and a few scattered bits of scallions and garlic that were hard to pick up remained on the plates.

"I can't take it anymore, I'm so full," Gnabry said lazily, leaning back in his chair.

"But...it's totally worth it! This is absolutely the best...Chinese flavor I've ever had!"

"Yan, how about retiring and opening a restaurant?" Amiri asked half-jokingly, but there was genuine reminiscence in her eyes.

Ute gestured dramatically, saying, "From now on, if you score a goal, we'll eat here! We won't even take the goal bonus; we'll use it to buy groceries for you!"

Vogt looked at the messy yet joyful table in front of him, and smiled as he watched his teammates relax and enjoy themselves after eating and drinking their fill.

He didn't say anything, but got up and silently began to clear the empty plates in front of everyone.

"No, let me wash it." Yan Yuan quickly stood up.

"Sit down!" Vogt said without waiting for a reply, stacking the plates up.

"You're a hero today, thank you for cooking. Leave the dishes to us." Gnabry, Amiri, and Ute immediately responded to the call:

"Yes, the head chef should take a break!"

"I'll take care of flushing!"

"I'll take care of wiping it!"...

The group worked together seamlessly to collect the plates, cutlery, and other utensils into the small kitchen.

Soon, the area around the sink was filled with the sounds of rushing water, dish soap foam, and the playful banter of young people. They clumsily worked together, some rinsing, some scrubbing, some drying. Although water was everywhere and there were constant clanging noises, the sincerity and liveliness warmed everyone's hearts.

Yan Yuan watched his teammates huddled together in the small kitchen, laughing and joking as they washed the dishes. Then he looked at Coach Nagelsmann, who was tidying up the table and putting away the remaining scallions, ginger, and garlic for him. An indescribable sense of warmth and pride filled the small dormitory room.

There are no dazzling stadium lights here, no deafening cheers from fans, only the warm aroma of food, sincere laughter among friends, and a homey, cozy evening.

This promised Chinese meal was more than just a treat for the taste buds; everything here gave Yan Yuan a strange sense of "home," his "home" in Germany.