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

Hoffenheim's training base in Germany.

Today's training session has entered the tactical drill phase. As soon as the assistant coach's whistle blew, Nagelsmann's signature rapid-fire speech rang out from the sidelines, his tactical board flipping rapidly in his hand.

"Gnabry! Get moving! Receive the ball in the flank! Don't wait! Don't wait!"

"Demirbay! Move up! Compress! Compress their space!"

"Yan! Very good! One more time! You made the right choice!"

……

Yan Yuan had just completed a textbook example of a flank support play. After receiving a pass from Grillitsch and drawing the attention of the opposing midfield defense, he didn't hesitate at all and delivered a concealed through ball that pierced through the artificial "defense line" and accurately found Uth at the feet of the sprinting forward.

The process was so seamless that even the video analyst responsible for filming the training videos almost couldn't keep up.

"Great job, Yan!" Gnabry ran over and vigorously ruffled Yan Yuan's sweaty hair.

Amiri laughed and whistled.

Yan Yuan didn't speak, but quickly wiped the sweat rolling down his forehead, a slight smile curving his lips as he gazed intently at his mentor on the sidelines.

Nagelsmann gave him a thumbs-up without hesitation, his eyes filled with genuine approval and trust. He turned to a page on the tactics board and began to arrange the next set of offensive and defensive transitions.

Yan Yuan quickly suppressed his smile and continued to listen attentively, rapidly constructing the spatial division plan required by the coach in his mind.

At Hoffenheim, he is now one of the key initiators of the tactics and a young brain that the head coach relies on without hesitation.

Every encouragement from his teammates, and every precise guidance and requirement from Coach Nash, nourished him like rain and dew, making him feel incredibly needed, and allowing him to grow steadily and clearly with every step.

Just then, a cell phone ringtone, completely out of sync with the intense rhythm of the training session, came from the outermost pocket of his sports bag placed on the sidelines.

Yan Yuan frowned.

During training, almost no one calls him. The only people who can usually get through to his cell phone are a few of his closest friends and family.

The training was paused for a few seconds because of this little incident, and Nagelsmann heard it and looked in his direction.

"Yan, go deal with the phone call, we're all waiting for you." Na Shuai raised his hand, signaling everyone to rest.

Yan Yuan nodded and said apologetically,

"Sorry, Coach, I'll be right back," he said, then quickly ran to the sidelines.

He pulled his phone out of his bag, and the number displayed on the screen made him pause. It was his father's number. His father rarely called during his training time unless it was something very important or something he couldn't wait to do.

Yan Yuan's heart skipped a beat for no reason, fearing that something important had happened.

He walked to a secluded spot outside the barbed wire fence at the edge of the training field and answered the phone:

"Dad? Why are you calling at this hour? What happened?"

On the other end of the phone, Mr. Yan's voice sounded hesitant today: "Son, I'm sorry to disturb your training, but there's something important I feel I need to tell you right away."

"Yes, Dad, please go ahead, I'm listening." Yan Yuan's heart pounded even harder.

"Just now..." Yan's father paused slightly, as if organizing his thoughts.

"We received a call from Paris Saint-Germain. It was their youth academy director, Pierre, who was conveying the message from their sporting director, Henrique."

Paris Saint-Germain?!

These words, like several cold stones, suddenly pierced Yan Yuan's ears, making his fingertips holding the phone instantly feel cold.

That name that once represented the starting point of dreams, but ultimately became a cold end point.

Yan's father spoke slowly and clearly relayed Pierre's argument, which revolved around "buyback" and carried an almost imperceptible air of arrogance. He emphasized Paris's top-tier platform, the commitment to nurture key talent, and the so-called "return to the big family."

Yan Yuan listened quietly to his father relaying his words.

After hearing this account, Yan Yuan seemed to briefly experience a hallucination:

Amidst the deafening cheers at the Parc des Princes, he wore a blue jersey embroidered with three gold stripes. Neymar made a lightning-fast breakthrough on the left flank and passed the ball across to Mbappe, who surged into the penalty area from the right like lightning, drawing the defense while he himself received a pass from Neymar in the middle and calmly slotted the ball past the onrushing goalkeeper...

What a beautiful scene this is!

But the illusion lasted for less than a second.

The next moment, countless fragments of memory, in stark contrast, instantly tore everything apart.

In his memory, outside Enrique's office, he was holding a thin evaluation report.

The above few lines, devoid of flowery language, present only a cold conclusion and the final verdict: [Expulsion].

That day, he didn't even get a chance to be loaned to a lower-level league.

After packing up his meager personal belongings in that small locker, he walked out of the training base where he had poured all his passion and sweat into his youth, and the cool evening breeze of Paris brushed against his face.

That was an afternoon that Yan Yuan never wanted to recall.

That experience of being completely rejected and discarded brought him a chilling sense of disappointment and self-doubt that once made it hard for him to breathe.

Even on this sunny day, when that name is mentioned again, the feeling of being abandoned returns instantly, sharp and clear.

Yan Yuan was stunned. He held the phone in his hand and stared blankly at his comrades on the field.

In the center of the field, the teammates who had paused were gathered in twos and threes.

Gnabry was talking to Kaderzabek, laughing and gesturing; Ute was gulping down an energy drink; Rupp, Bowman and a few other older guys were huddled together, seemingly discussing the attack they had just witnessed.

His mentor, Nagelsmann, was surrounded by his coaching team, pointing at the tactics board and having a heated discussion.

This is a vibrant, hardworking, positive, and trusting group.

On the other end of the phone, Yan's father continued speaking:

"Son, that's the gist of it. This call was mainly to ask about your willingness. They seemed very 'asking for granted,' assuming that their offer couldn't possibly be rejected."

There was a hint of displeasure in Yan's father's voice towards Paris Saint-Germain.

"But I think I should at least ask you first, after all..."

Yan Yuan didn't quite hear what Yan Yuan said next.

On the phone, Yan's father was still asking for his thoughts:

"Son, are you listening? What do you think...?"

Yan Yuan suddenly came to his senses.

On the training field, Nagelsmann seemed to notice his silence and serious expression, and cast a concerned look at him. Amiri mouthed "What's wrong?" to him from a distance.

These are the people, this team in blue and white jerseys, and this incredibly young head coach who generously gave him the opportunity to play...

This country club in southern Germany opened its arms to him during the lowest point of his life, when he had almost no football to play for.

He was given the opportunity to prove himself, and only after he gained a foothold did he have his breakthrough today!

His mentor personally tailored tactics for him, giving him freedom and responsibility on the field, and carefully polishing him like a rough gem.

This trust, dedication, and recognition are the real source of strength that has supported Yan Yuan step by step to where he is today.

The place that once ruthlessly abandoned him, unwilling to even grant him a chance to prove his worth, now has the audacity to act as a condescending benefactor.

Do you really think you can just casually call him back to that place of heartbreak with a simple "buyback" and "focus on developing"?

Just because they're called "Paris Saint-Germain"?

In an instant, all hesitation about Paris Saint-Germain, and the instinctive fantasies arising from the prestige of the club, were overwhelmed and crushed by a strong sense of belonging and a deeper sense of gratitude.

At this moment, Yan Yuan's emotions were churning violently like boiling water.

When he spoke again, his voice did not tremble at all, but carried a resolute and unwavering tone:

"Dad, please reply to them for me, just say..." His voice grew stronger, each word as if carved with a chisel, as he calmly spoke.

"I, Yan Yuan, personally believe that I will reject any offer from Paris Saint-Germain without hesitation or reservation."

Upon hearing this, Mr. Yan on the other end of the phone visibly paused.

But Yan Yuan didn't pause at all; he wanted to make his point clear:

"Dad, you must be very clear and refuse them without any room for negotiation."

This is my decision. I will never consider returning to a place that once so easily rejected and abandoned me, no matter what conditions they offer or what promises they make.

I understand why Paris abandoned me in the first place, so I believe Paris will understand why I don't want to go back.

Yan Yuan, fearing his father would worry too much about his emotional fluctuations, then said:

"Also, Dad, I want you and Mom to know that I'm doing very well in Hoffenheim, really well."

Here I have a coach who trusts me, teammates who care about me, and fans who love me.

Everyone here is genuinely helping me grow. I am grateful for all the opportunities this place has given me, and I cherish everything I have now.

I want to stay here, to repay this kindness, and to do my best for Hoffenheim, playing well in every match! That's my only thought right now, and my truest thought.

After saying all that in one breath, Yan Yuan felt as if a huge, heavy boulder that had been pressing on his chest for a long time had finally fallen to the ground.

For the first time, the shadow of abandonment that had clung to him like a leech was powerfully dispelled.

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

A few seconds later, Yan's father's voice came again.

The unease that had been present when relaying Paris's message was gone from that voice; replaced by a relieved sense of satisfaction.

This is the peace of mind and pride a father feels when he sees his son truly understand the importance of gratitude.

"Good!" Yan's father's voice was loud and resonant. "Son, you're right! I understand! I'll refuse them for you, and I will refuse them without hesitation or reservation!"

As a traditional Chinese father, Yan's father never neglected to teach Yan Yuan about "gratitude" during his upbringing.

He believed that a drop of kindness should be repaid with a spring of gratitude, and this was his consistent approach.

He knew the arrogance and snobbery behind Paris's so-called buyback, and he also knew how much Hoffenheim had done for his son in his time of need.

Yan's father's voice was noticeably more agitated as he said:

"The most important thing in life is to know how to be grateful. Hoffenheim helped us when we were in our most difficult time, and now the coach values ​​you so much. This kindness is more precious than anything else."

"Yes! Thank you, Dad!" Yan Yuan's nose tingled slightly, but his heart was filled with a warm feeling.

Yan Yuan was not swayed by the prestige of Parisian elite families, nor was he misled by their casual promise of special training.

He clearly remembers who reached out to him when he was at his lowest point. He cherishes this hard-won trust and friendship and protects it in an almost stubborn way.

"Train hard, keep playing seriously, don't get distracted! Dad will pass on your message right away!" Yan's father's tone returned to its usual efficient manner.

"Okay! I'll continue training then, Dad."

Yan Yuan hung up the phone, stood there and let out a long breath, as if he had released all the pent-up emotions he had accumulated over the years.

"Yan! Are you done making the call!" Gnabry shouted to Yan Yuan, waving at him.

"I'm done playing, I'm coming!" Yan Yuan waved and jogged back to his teammates, continuing to focus on training.

Paris Saint-Germain, the aura of a prestigious club—none of that matters anymore.

This training base belonging to Hoffenheim is the battlefield he will fight for right now and in the future he has decided on.

Young Yan Yuan cherished and loved everything here immensely.