Awakening the Messi template, Florentino Pérez begs me to join Real Madrid

In the evening after training ended, the setting sun painted Guangzhou's skyline a warm gold.

Wu Shi rarely didn't get extra training.

Wu Shi didn't return to his apartment immediately. He changed into a simple white T-shirt, gray sweatpants, a baseball cap, and a mask, and walked out of the training base alone.

This was his first "shopping trip" in three months.

There was no specific destination; I simply strolled along the Pearl River.

The evening breeze, carrying moisture, felt cool and comfortable on my face.

Cruise ships slowly sailed across the river, and neon lights began to illuminate the river one by one, revealing the Canton Tower on the opposite bank against the night sky.

Wu Shi walked slowly with his hands in his pockets.

These past few months have felt like they've been fast-forwarded:

Training, matches, recovery, extra training; confrontations, goals, assists, victories; the media spotlight, the fans' shouts, the opponents' malice, the system's venomous words... everything is so intense that it's suffocating.

He is only seventeen years old this year.

What were you doing at this time in your past life? Oh, you were playing games all night in an internet cafe, placing bets on sports betting websites, arguing with people over winning or losing a few dozen yuan, and then going to class the next day with dark circles under your eyes that you couldn't concentrate on at all.

What now?

Now he gets up at five o'clock every morning and goes to bed at eleven o'clock at night. Apart from eating and sleeping, he spends almost all his time playing football.

My body is always covered in bruises; my ankles, knees, back—there's always something hurting. My mind is filled with nothing but tactical positioning and technical moves; I even dream about dribbling past people.

Tired?

worn out.

but……

Wu Shi stopped and leaned on the railing by the river, looking at the shimmering water.

But he had never felt so clearly that he was "alive" as he did now.

The muscle soreness after every training session, the moment of gritting your teeth and getting back up after every scrimmage, the deafening cheers that erupt after every goal...

These are all real, passionate, and personal life experiences of his own.

Instead of what I did in my past life, watching others' wonderful lives through a screen, and then staring blankly at the ceiling after losing the bet, feeling like an empty shell slowly decaying.

"Um..." a timid voice sounded from the side.

Wu Shi turned his head. It was a boy who looked about fifteen or sixteen years old, wearing a school uniform, carrying a backpack, holding a cell phone, and with a slightly red face.

"Excuse me... are you Takeshi?" the boy asked softly, his eyes sparkling.

Wu Shi was taken aback. He was wearing a hat and a mask, yet he was still recognized?

"I...I'm your fan!" the boy quickly added when he saw that the other man didn't speak.

"I watched the AFC Champions League match against Jeonbuk Hyundai Motors live! Your header was amazing! And that assist... Can I take a picture with you?"

The boy's voice trembled slightly with excitement.

Looking into the pure light in the other person's eyes, Wu Shi suddenly recalled the feeling he had in his past life when he watched his favorite star player through a screen and scored a goal for the team.

"Okay." He took off his mask and smiled.

The boy was so excited he almost jumped up, frantically opening his phone's camera and moving closer to Wu Shi.

"Click."

After the photo was taken, the boy pulled out a crumpled notebook and pen: "Could I...could you sign this again?"

Wu Shi took the pen and wrote his name in the notebook. Although his handwriting was still not very artistic, it was much better than his previous signature.

"Thank you! I'll always support you!" The boy held out the autograph, his face beaming with joy.

"Keep it up! If you have the chance, I think you should go abroad to play. If it were you, I believe you would succeed even overseas!"

After saying that, he bowed and ran off like a happy little bird, looking back as he ran, almost bumping into a street lamp.

Wu Shi stood there, watching the boy's departing figure, a strange warmth welling up in his heart.

Being recognized, liked, and anticipated... This feeling is unfamiliar, but it's not bad.

He put his mask back on and continued walking.

But after walking only a few steps, someone else recognized him.

This time it was a young couple. The girl ran over screaming, "Wu Shi! It really is Wu Shi! Honey, look!"

Then came a few office workers leaving work, a mother with her child, and even an old man fishing by the river—the old man put down his fishing rod, walked over, and patted Wu Shi on the shoulder: "Young man, you played well, you've made us Chinese proud!"

Wu Shi was surrounded.

He patiently responded to each request—signatures, photos, handshakes, blessings—with a smile on his face throughout.

More and more people gathered, and the crowds strolling along the riverbank began to form. Some took out their phones to take pictures, others posted them on social media, and shouts of "There's a star player over there!" could even be heard from afar.

[System: Increased crowd density detected in the surrounding area. We recommend leaving to avoid the risk of a stampede.]

But...that's good. Patience and a smile are essential skills for public figures.

This time, the system's voice didn't mock, but instead carried a hint of...approval?

It took Wu Shi more than ten minutes to "break through" the crowd and hide in the underground parking lot of a nearby shopping mall.

He leaned against the wall, catching his breath. His hat was askew, and his mask was pulled to one side.

I'm tired, but my heart is full.

He had just seen the light in the eyes of those fans. Some of that light was shining for him.

[System: Mood Fluctuation Detection: Satisfaction +70%, Fatigue +25%, Stress +5%. Overall Rating: Healthy.]

[Suggestion: Occasionally engaging in such non-training activities can help maintain mental balance. However, please control the frequency; your primary task is to play football, not to be an idol.]

Wu Shi laughed: "Are you worried about me?"

[System: This system only provides optimal suggestions based on data analysis. Overwork and mental imbalance can affect training effectiveness and competition performance, thus impacting integration growth. This is purely a matter of efficiency.]

Stubborn.

But Wu Shi didn't expose him. He put his hat and mask back on, left through another exit of the mall, and took a taxi back to his apartment.

On the bus, gazing at the city lights streaming past the window, he suddenly asked, "System, what would I be like now if I had played soccer properly in my past life?"

The system remained silent for three seconds.

[Insufficient data to simulate. However, based on your physical condition, self-discipline, and professional attitude in your past life, you will most likely play on amateur football fields. If you can be more self-disciplined, you might be able to play as a substitute in the China League Two while doing part-time work, retire completely around the age of thirty, find an ordinary job, and occasionally boast at the dinner table, "I almost went to a professional team back then."]

Takeshi: "..."

"But that was in your past life." The system's voice softened for a moment, a rare occurrence. "In this life, you're only seventeen, yet you've already scored in the AFC Champions League, led your team into the knockout stage, and received a trial invitation from Real Madrid. Countless people are watching you, expecting more from you."

So, don't look back. The road lies ahead.

Wu Shi looked out the window and softly hummed in agreement.

Yes, the road lies ahead.