Football: He suffered a broken leg at the start of the game, but partnered with Haaland!

"pain!"

"That fucking hurts!"

Sun Yang clutched his deformed left leg, cold sweat mixed with mud streaming down his face, his entire face contorted with pain.

London, Kearney training ground.

Just minutes ago, this was an ordinary intra-squad training match for Arsenal's youth team.

In winter in London, the wind blows like a knife across the grass.

But the ball at Sun Yang's feet was burning hot.

He received the ball with his back to goal in the right midfield position.

Lant came up from behind, bumping shoulders, and swearing at him.

"Yellow-skinned monkey, stop trying to pull any tricks."

Sun Yang did not turn around.

With a stomp of the right foot, the body swayed to the left.

As Lant shifted his weight, Sun Yang flicked the ball to the other side with the outside of his right foot.

A bicycle ride followed by a half-turn.

The ball and the person slipped past Lant.

The movement was as light as a monkey flipping over a tree branch.

Several foreign players on the sidelines whistled on the spot.

"pretty!"

"Sun, he's doing his acrobatics again!"

Nigerian winger Adriano was hugging his training vest, grinning from ear to ear.

"Dude, is your waist made of rubber?"

French midfielder Mathieu, who is quite short, also clapped his hands.

"If this had happened in an official match, the highlights would have been edited ten times over."

Sun Yang didn't stop his fancy footwork.

He enjoyed the feeling.

With the ball at his feet, his body obeyed, and he controlled the rhythm.

From a young age, his father, Sun Wu, forced him to practice Peking Opera monkey plays.

Somersaults, backbends, leg presses, leaping over tables.

He felt bitter at that time.

Now that he's on the court, all those childhood skills have been transformed into changes of direction and escape techniques that others can't understand.

Sun Yang flicked his right foot and lowered his shoulder, getting past two defenders in quick succession.

He wasn't just showing off his skills.

He was observing the weak-side opening.

The left winger has started to move, and there is a lot of space behind the defensive midfielder.

If the ball is passed through, it's a standard weak-side pass.

Korlant's expression grew increasingly grim.

In Arsenal's youth team, Lante always felt that he should be the midfield maestro.

Local player, physically strong, has family connections.

What annoys him most is that Asian-mixed-race kids like Sun Yang steal the spotlight on the training field.

"You really think you're Messi?"

Lant gritted his teeth and chased after him from the side and behind.

Sun Yang ignored him.

He landed with his left foot, ready to use it as a support foot, while his right foot was already prepared to deliver a long diagonal pass.

Right at this moment.

Lant slid in from the side and behind.

It's not puck.

They came for people, not people.

With his cleats gleaming, he lowered his knees and used his momentum to shove towards Sun Yang's supporting leg.

"Sun, watch out!"

Matthew's shout had just begun.

Lant's spikes had already slammed into Sun Yang's left shin.

The feet were not retracted.

There was no attempt to avoid it.

That time, it chopped down solidly.

"Snap!"

The sound of bones snapping exploded in Sun Yang's ears.

The next second, he fell onto the grass.

The ball rolled two meters away.

Sun Yang hugged his left leg, curled up into a ball, and let out a scream.

"what!"

pain.

My head is numb from the pain.

It was like someone hammering a stone into a bone and then vigorously stirring it.

Lant sat on the grass, spread his hands, and pretended to be innocent, making a soccer ball shape with his hands.

"I touched the ball!"

"This is normal confrontation!"

Sun Yang gritted his teeth, veins throbbing on his forehead.

Did it touch the ball?

The ball is two meters away.

You touched my leg!

The surrounding players gathered around.

Several English players glanced at it and quickly dispersed.

"It's a training match, so it's normal to make some big movements."

"Sun has always liked to show off; he'll get ousted sooner or later."

"Lant probably didn't do it on purpose."

Upon hearing this, Ade's face darkened even more.

"Not on purpose?"

He pointed at the football rolling away, his voice rising.

"The ball's right there! Are your eyes just decorations?"

No one responded.

Foreign players stood to the side; some frowned, some shook their heads.

But very few actually dare to speak out.

Everyone knows what kind of situation Lant's family is in.

His father is the head of the local fan association, and just last month he donated a new bus to the youth team.

An Asian-American mixed-race player.

A local relative.

This multiple-choice question is not difficult for many people at all.

Only two people rushed to Sun Yang's side.

One of them is Mathieu, a diminutive French midfielder.

One is Nigerian winger Adriano.

Matthew crouched down, and his voice changed.

"Sun, don't move! Don't move!"

"Watch me, don't fall asleep, the team doctor is coming right away!"

Ad yelled at Lant, "You fucking came after a cripple!"

Lant stood up and patted the grass clippings off his bottom.

"Shut up, Ade."

"This is football, not ballet."

Ad stepped forward, his fists clenched.

"Say it again?"

Lant wasn't intimidated and raised his chin.

"What? You want to get involved too?"

On the sidelines, youth team coach Buck blew his whistle.

A sharp whistle pierced the training field.

"That's enough!"

Buck walked over with a gloomy expression.

He saw it.

Everyone saw it.

Lant didn't even touch the ball.

That was a standard foul involving maliciously showing his studs from the side and rear.

In a real match, a red card wouldn't be enough to vent anger; a suspension would be necessary.

But Buck merely glanced at Sun Yang's leg and coldly said, "Training is suspended. The team doctor will come on and treat him."

Ade stared at him in disbelief.

"Coach, is that all?"

"That was a malicious foul!"

Buck stared at Ad.

"Are you the coach, or am I the coach?"

Adrian was about to speak when Matthew grabbed him.

"Don't be impulsive, let's see what happens to Sun first."

Sun Yang was in so much pain that his vision went black.

He looked up at Buck.

This person once patted him on the shoulder and said that.

"Sun, you have a chance to make it to the first team."

Buck spoke very sincerely at that time.

Now, he is standing a few meters away.

The way they looked at Sun Yang was as if he were looking at a broken piece of training equipment.

The team doctor ran over with a medical kit, squatted down, and immediately cut open Sun Yang's basketball socks.

The team doctor's expression changed after just one glance.

"No, it might be a fracture."

"Call an ambulance immediately."

Buck frowned.

"How long will it take to recover?"

The team doctor looked up at him and spoke in a stern tone.

"Now is not the time to talk about recovery."

"He needs to go to the hospital immediately. It's hard to say whether he'll be able to play football again."

After those words were spoken, the surroundings fell silent.

Ade cursed under his breath.

Damn it.

Matthew grasped Sun Yang's wrist.

"Sun, can you hear me?"

"Don't be afraid, go to the hospital first, you'll be fine."

Sun Yang wanted to speak.

But the pain blocked his throat.

Buck didn't ask him another question.

He simply turned to look at Lant.

"Go take a shower first."

That concludes today's training.

Lant shrugged.

As he passed by Sun Yang, he lowered his voice and sneered.

"Stop showing off, you monkey."

Sun Yang stared at him.

It felt like a fire was burning in my chest.

He wanted to stand up.

I want to punch that smug face of Lant's.

But the pain in his left leg made it difficult for him to even lift his arm.