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

On the first day of the holiday, after finishing his meal, Yan's father let out a burp. Yan Yuan put down his chopsticks, and the food was still warm on the table.

"Dad, Mom, I have to go practice at the nearby court," Yan Yuan said after finishing the last steamed bun.

"You've only been back a few days, son?" Aunt Yan poked her head out from the kitchen, holding a dishcloth in her hand.

"Why don't you rest a bit and talk to us?" Yan's father asked.

"Dad, you know, professional athletes need to maintain their touch," Yan Yuan said.

He quickly put on a warm down vest, training clothes, and a fleece ski hat, his breath condensing into white mist in the cold air.

"Dad, Mom, I'm going to practice now, at our community court."

"Do you want Dad to come with you?"

"It's okay, Dad. I'm practicing ball control today, so I don't need a sparring partner."

As Yan's mother watched her son skillfully rummage through the storage room, pulling out several used mineral water bottles, dozens of red and yellow plastic sign trays, and then picking up a large net bag containing three soccer balls, she knew she couldn't dissuade him.

There's nothing we can do; my son has been like this since he was little. Once he's made up his mind about something, nothing can change it.

"Be careful, it's too cold today, don't catch a cold. Come back early." The voice of the admonition followed Yan Yuan's back to the door.

"Okay, Mom, I'm off now. Call me if anything happens." Yan Yuan said and hurriedly set off.

The basketball court near my home was deserted.

The area is surrounded by old wire mesh, the plastic floor is mottled, and a few bare streetlights stand in the corner.

This is Yan Yuan's destination, a simple yet liberating place.

He put down his heavy equipment.

There was no sparring partner today. Although his dad said he could spar with him, Yan Yuan knew that his dad's physical condition was somewhat sub-healthy, and he would probably be out of breath just picking up the ball.

His junior brother Bellingham lived a bit far from his home, and he was too embarrassed to trouble him, so Yan Yuan had to train on his own.

If you practice alone, shooting and long passing are too inefficient; most of the time will be wasted retrieving the ball, which is not worthwhile.

So, today we're practicing ball control.

Ball control is one of Yan Yuan's strengths, and also one of the core abilities he has been constantly honing.

Even though he has already demonstrated top-level wing threat at Hoffenheim, he still believes that the most fundamental attributes of a winger are always dribbling and ball control.

Yan Yuan warmed up by doing a few sets of Tai Chi.

The chill seemed to seep into his very bones, but he paid no heed; his blood was already surging.

"1, 2, 3..."

He carefully laid out the signs on the court. This time, he arranged them in a more complex way, no longer just simple straight lines or circles.

There were 46 in total.

He used a marker board to simulate the opposing players' pressing positions, setting up several small diamond-shaped pressing zones, and adding continuous figure-eight routes between the tunnels.

Today's training was a bit more difficult than his regular training at the Hoffenheim training base.

He wanted to try and push his limits.

Yan Yuan began his first training session, dribbling past cones with alternating high-frequency touches of the ball using both feet within a narrow figure-eight area.

On the community sports field, the wet and cold plastic surface was a bit slippery, and the ball would sometimes slide a little faster.

He lowered his center of gravity, using more precise control with the arch and toes than usual, locking his ankles, and calculating the force and direction of each touch with precision.

The ball flashed rapidly between the markers, and my body swayed slightly and frequently in response.

"The pace is too fast, the ground is a bit slippery, and I'm losing my balance..."

He frowned and muttered to himself as he stopped; the ball was at his feet.

He thought for a moment, and when he started again, he slightly increased his stride length, no longer pursuing that extreme short, shuffling pace. Each step he took was more solid, and at the moment of contact with the ball, he also slightly adjusted the angle of his knee flexion and extension to provide stronger support and instantaneous explosive power to counteract the slippery feel of the ground.

"Hmm... like this... it's working smoothly." The ball obediently weaved between the feet, passing through the complex figure-eight pattern and the strict standard plates, leaving an extremely narrow passage.

Next, he started the second method, dribbling into the diamond-shaped pressing zone, then changing direction and accelerating to get rid of the ball.

Yan Yuan first tried to use the outside of his left foot to forcefully break through the first imaginary defensive marker, then immediately followed up with a right foot inside-of-the-foot cut, took a step to the side, and then accelerated through the gap to pass through the second marker.

On my first attempt, the space after the spike was too small, and I almost hit the marker plate next to me.

The ball went out of control.

Yan Yuan stepped on the ball in place.

"The horizontal pull was too small. The explosive power at the spike should be stronger to gain more space (about half a body length). The angle of the spike should also be slightly to the right..." He silently reviewed the play.

As he started again, the moment he spiked the ball, his ankle tensed instantly, and the feeling of his leg pushing off the ground was incredibly clear.

With a "whoosh",

The ball obediently moved more than half a meter to the side, and he took a step over it. The view ahead suddenly opened up, and he easily accelerated and got rid of the ball.

The signboard stood quietly, not touched at all.

In the next group, Yan Yuan dribbled and changed direction at high speed under the simulated defensive pressure on the marker board.

His challenge to himself was to dribble the ball from one end of the field, accelerate for 15 meters, and then make a series of sudden stops and changes of direction to pass through four sets of marker cones arranged in an arc.

Between each array, Yan Yuan left only enough space for a person and a ball to pass through.

Finally, he fired a powerful low shot at a mineral water bottle that he had placed in the corner beforehand.

This is arguably the most difficult one.

The initial sprint was too fast, and it almost lost control when it entered the first arc formation.

He staggered and adjusted himself, getting past the first three groups. But when he was about to reach the fourth group, the most crucial moment and the narrowest passage, he lost too much momentum and tripped, causing the ball to be blocked by the marker disc.

It failed as expected.

"Huff...huff..."

Yan Yuan stood still, his chest heaving, panting, sweat clinging coldly to his forehead and temples in the low temperature.

He retrieved the ball, but instead of starting immediately, he closed his eyes and recalled the point of contact with the ball and the angle of his body's rotation.

"Just now... I think I spiked the ball too early, my center of gravity wasn't fully back on track, my right foot landed too hard, and my knee was too straight when I pushed off, resulting in insufficient cushioning, and the direction was also a little off..."

He opened his eyes again and said, "Let's try again."

Repeat, fail.

Repeat, fail again…

Each time, Yan Yuan would pause for a moment to reflect on his mistakes.

Sometimes you adjust the timing of the change of direction, sometimes you increase the angle of your core twist to make the change of direction more crisp and clean, and sometimes you change the point of force exertion for the final step of the attack.

No matter how you change it, just find the method that suits you best and has the highest success rate.

Sweat dripped down repeatedly, condensing into small patches of water on the cold ground.

The muscles in his arms and ankles began to feel clearly tired and tense, and that tightness gradually intensified.

Time passed, and the air was bitterly cold, but the heat within Yan Yuan's body continued to surge.

With each attempt, he strives to incorporate the details of his thoughts into his movements, forming an instinctive memory in his body.

Finally, this sprint, cutting into the arc formation, continuous changes of direction...

The body felt incredibly light, as if the ball was attached to the foot, perfectly conforming to every slight adjustment of the ankle and arch.

As he passed through the last and narrowest set of obstacles, his body seemed unrestrained by the rules of inertia, perfectly replicating the movement:

Just as Yan Yuan was about to force his way to the other side by gently flicking the ball with the inside of his right foot, it seemed that he couldn't fully adjust his center of gravity.

The narrow passage was about to close when, in a flash, his left arm swung back with remarkable ease, his entire upper body like the tip of a whip being swung, its core carrying an astonishingly flexible torsional force!

His right shoulder was slightly lowered, while the toes of his primary ball-handling foot, which should have been pointed to the right front, were cleverly straightened.

Like the tip of a paintbrush, using the outer edge of the upper part of the instep, and with the spiral force brought about by the twisting of the body and arms, it lightly rubs and hooks outward and backward on the rolling ball surface!

"Whoosh!"

A brand new move that defies physical intuition and features a bizarre arc has been born!

Instead of bouncing out along the standard change of direction, the ball was deflected and hooked by the outside of the foot in a very small space, drawing an unconventional, inward-curving semicircle!

The ball seemed to be drawn by a magnet, and it just went around the inside heel area of ​​the simulated "defender" logo that was blocking the way!

Throughout the entire process, Yan Yuan's movements of swinging his arm, twisting his body, and slightly hooking his toes were completed almost within the same millisecond, as fluid as a sudden flash of light.

At the same time, due to the inertia of his arm swing, his body gained more reverse balance force and sprint space!

Yan Yuan stepped onto the new path the ball had rolled along with his left foot, and followed with perfect balance!

Phoenix Tail Spin!

The thought, or rather the name of the action, flashed through my mind without warning and naturally!

Its posture is graceful and swift, like the magnificent yet deadly tail flick of the legendary divine bird Luan as it flies through the air.

This time, the performance was flawless and perfectly replicated!

Without the slightest hesitation, he rushed through the final passage with the ball.

Without any room for thought, he took a quick step forward, bracing himself against the water bottle in the corner. His left foot braced firmly, while his right leg swung at a small but explosive angle, his foot pointed like a hammer blow.

"Bang!"

The soccer ball, like a cannonball, flew in a clear straight line, precisely knocking the water bottle away, where it rolled a long way on the ground.

"Yes!!! It's done!"

Yan Yuan roared and exhaled heavily, the hot air condensing into a large cloud of white mist in the cold air.

Instead of celebrating immediately, he stopped, bent over, put his hands on his knees, and gasped for breath.

"Huff...huff...hiss...so tired..."

Just moments after the final push-off, I felt a subtle yet distinct, heart-pounding, taut spasm in my calf.

His calf was on the verge of cramping.

"Today... we absolutely can't practice anymore, this is the end." Yan Yuan gasped, immediately freezing in place, not daring to make any further moves.

The sweat-soaked training clothes clung to my back, feeling icy cold.

He moved his body slowly, extremely slowly, not daring to take a single step, carefully moving his ankles.

After a while, the terrible feeling of being on the verge of cramping slowly subsided, leaving only a deep, aching fatigue.

He dragged his aching legs and slowly retrieved the ball that had flown far away, then picked up the mineral water bottle that had rolled to the edge of the wire fence and put it back in its place.

In that short while, the wind blew on my sweaty hair, making my scalp tingle with cold.

Just as he was rubbing the stiff muscles on the back of his calves and relaxing his guard, a system notification silently appeared in his mind:

[The host continued to train and push his limits, completing a high-difficulty ball control exercise under extreme physical load. His spirit and will were highly focused, and he achieved his goal.]

Unlock your personal exclusive skill: Phoenix Tail Spin.

Skill Description: Phoenix Tail Whirl

Player Yan Yuan's exclusive ball control and dribbling skills.

The core of this move lies in using the arm swing to rotate the upper body and generate powerful torque during high-speed dribbling or localized confrontations. This is combined with the explosive power of the supporting foot pushing off the ground and the core stability. At the same time, the non-dominant foot uses the tip of the outside of the foot to subtly scrape a specific part of the ball, changing the ball's trajectory in a small space. The overall movement is small in amplitude, unpredictable in rhythm, and instantly changes the direction and center of gravity, resembling the sweeping of a phoenix's tail, making it extremely difficult to predict and catch.

It requires a high degree of coordination, strong core explosiveness, and extremely delicate control over the ball.

[Ball control attribute improved: S → S+]

The handwriting remained steadfastly in my mind for a few seconds before slowly fading and disappearing.

Yan Yuan let out a long sigh of relief.

He raised a hand to wipe the sweat that had just seeped from his forehead, his gaze falling on the mineral water bottle that was still trembling slightly in the distance. Yan Yuan felt no elation, only a heavy sense of steadiness.

"It's really not easy..." he muttered softly.

This exclamation contains a lot of meaning.

Back when Yan Yuan first arrived at Hoffenheim, the system's copy of Di Maria's S-level ball control attributes gave him a very high starting point in ball control.

But that's a skill that top star Di Maria honed over many years of playing.

To take even the smallest step forward from this foundation requires daily accumulation, physical training, and an almost obsessive understanding of every detail.

So, from the start of the new season in August to today's winter break, he has been honing his skills alone in the cold wind for a full six months, engaging in countless dialogues with the ball, with himself, and with his body.

Finally, today, I managed to break through that seemingly insurmountable wall and step onto that tiny "+" sign.

Yan Yuan bent down wearily and began to collect the signboards scattered all over the floor.

Each red and yellow plastic disc was cold and slippery.

After tidying up, he stuffed the three soccer balls back into the net bag, leaving the field empty except for the evening chill and the sweat that had dripped from his hands.

Although the stiffness in the back of my calves has subsided and the risk of cramps has receded, a deep sense of fatigue remains.

He picked up the heavy net bag and water bottle, stomped his slightly numb feet, and exhaled thicker puffs of white breath in the cold wind.

I gained a lot today. Although I'm tired, it was all worth it.

Yan Yuan casually took out his phone and sent a message home:

"Mom, I'm done with practice. I'll head home now. Tonight I want to eat the vegetarian platter that Dad makes."

A short while later, Aunt Yan replied:

"Okay, your dad is preparing a cold dish. Be careful on your way back."

Yan's mother also took a picture of Yan's father preparing cold dishes and sent it to her son.