Godfather Of Champions

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Twain and Dunn sat in Greenwood's office, looking at what was in front of them. Both men had very serious expressions.

Greenwood pointed to what they were looking at and said, "This is his training log. Records are made every day as per your instruction."

They were two thick B5 sized notebooks made out of photocopier paper.

Twain certainly could not finish reading the contents of these two books here. He turned to the beginning, then flipped over to the middle, and finally flicked to the back. It was enough for him to draw a conclusion.

"He persisted and completed George Wood's training program at the youth team. To tell you the truth, I'm very surprised by it." Greenwood said beside him, "I could tell George was very strong just by his physique but Chen … where did the strength come from such a thin figure?"

Twain did not make a sound and continued to look down to flip through the training log.

Greenwood looked to Dunn, who was Chinese, and Dunn answered with a smile, "I don't know. Maybe it was the power of his dreams."

"Dreams?" Greenwood stroked his chin and smacked his lips, "Wasn't it his dream to become a professional footballer? But in the end it didn't come true. And I think he should have known long ago that this was impossible. No club wanted a young man who had only trained for one year, not to mention he was already eighteen years old. Why was he insistent on doing so? Where did his strength come from?"

Dunn pointed his finger at Twain reading the log next to him, "Isn't there a guy here who accepted a seventeen-year-old who only just started his formal football training and developed him to become the youngest captain in Nottingham Forest's history?"

"Stuart Pearce also only started playing professional football at the age of twenty-one." Twain said without looking up. "This kid did a good job… he completed everything well. I thought you lied to me at first."

Greenwood cleared his throat, "Why would I lie to you? To be honest, Chen's drive was amazing. If he had started training here from the age of ten, he would have been able to become a qualified professional football player. But as for now…" He gave a shrug.

Twain closed the notebook and said to Greenwood, "Can I take these back to read?"

"They were prepared for you, Tony. If it wasn't for your illness… You should have read them in February."

"Well…" Twain put away the thick books and said, "It looks like I've missed a lot of wonderful things in the last five months…"

"Is your health all right, Tony?" Greenwood asked.

"You've already asked, Ian. Of course, there's no problem. Otherwise I wouldn't have come back to work… You know how many beautiful Brazilian women there are, heh heh."

Both Dunn and Greenwood ignored his joke.

Twain glanced at the two training logs again and said, "He even gave himself additional training? Dribbled the ball back and forth between here and home every day to participate in the training?"

Greenwood nodded, "Yes, he even did it when he went to the University of Nottingham for his cultural studies classes. John also told me that he saw Chen ran in the street with the football when he got home. His classmates also said he was a 'weirdo.' You know, the sidewalks were uneven, and the football always bounced around…"

Twain interrupted his account to ask, "How long did he do it for?"

"Until the last day of his training here."

Twain stared at the cover of the training log and did not say a thing.

He thought of that muddy face in the wind and rain, the miserable appearance and how it was somewhat in line with the image of the football of that country…

With the terrible defeat of China Olympic team at the Olympic Games, "football" was already a word that almost everyone abhorred in China. The mention of football would inevitably provoke a burst of ridicule, which was almost always the case in both popular and state media. Nowadays if someone announced that he wanted to be a professional footballer, he would be jeered at. As long as a person was playing football, some people would think that he was related to the Chinese Football Association. As long as he did not hate Chinese football, he would be looked down upon … The wave of fanatical antipathy currently remained in China and was not expected to cool down for years to come.

Twain did not have any special views on this. The Chinese Football Association did this to itself and cannot escape. It's better to let them die early. Maybe there will be another new lease of life.

But Chen Jian has nothing to do with the Chinese Football Association and it's not his fault that Chinese football was so dire. He's not even a product of the system. He's just a stubborn kid with a head full of dreams.

He gave his best and was exhausted. Had he broken down the wall?

What was his mood like when he left Wilford? Did he regret it? Disappointed? Unwilling to resign to his fate?

I really want to see his face with my own eyes.

When I laid in the hospital bed, I really missed out on a lot.

"Tony?" Dunn saw Twain in a daze for a little too long and called out to rouse him.

"Ah… Ian. I'll ask you one more thing. How did he perform in the internal game after that incident?" Twain looked up at Greenwood.

"He was a lot better than before, and in the end I could hardly pick out any faults … If I had to pick on something, it would be an innate factor, such as the gap between his level and that of his teammates who had been training here for a decade. But I couldn't say that his ability was terrible. For example, in terms of progress, he was the fastest in the team. But after all, he was nearly a decade behind the average player."

Twain smiled, "Yeah, he thought it was just a wall blocking the way to his dream. But what is blocking in front of him is not a wall, but a mountain…. Ah, the fool."

He stood up and said goodbye to Greenwood before he left North Wilford with Dunn.

"What do you have in mind, Tony?" Dunn asked after they left.

"Nothing. I'm going to go back and take a good look at these…" Twain waved the two training logs and said, "I'll leave the afternoon training to you, David and the others."

Dunn nodded and said nothing. Twain could not tire himself on the first day back to work. No one would want him to stay here and endure. He needed to resume his work day by day. Anyway, the team's terrible situation could not worsen anymore. No one would urge Twain to get back to work quickly and guide the team to get back on track.

※※※

Twain had been sitting at the desk since he got home from noon. He carefully finished reading the two training logs. Other than grabbing a meal in the middle, he had not moved from the spot and did not even play provocative little games with Shania. Shania also found that Twain looked serious and focused. She knew it must be an important matter, so she did not go up to him and bother him. She only persuaded Twain to go to bed when it was time to rest. Douglas' contract expired the day Twain decided to return to the team. Now Shania needed to take care of her beloved Uncle Tony herself. But it was nothing for she had learned a lot of professional medical knowledge and skills from Douglas. She could take care of Uncle Tony alone.

She did not have a job for the time being these days. As Uncle Tony had to be in England, she did not go to Hollywood. Her Hollywood career also seemed to become insignificant. She did not care about what celebrity parties to go, which famous stars to get to know and meet, and all kinds of necessary social interactions.

Twain once asked her the question, and her answer was fairly simple—"Movies have always been my passion. It's good if it can become my work. But if I have to choose between my passion and Uncle Tony, I certainly won't choose to go to America."

"Don't tell me you have given up on your situation after a year-long struggle in the United States?" Twain felt sorry in his heart for Shania. He knew that once she was far away from Hollywood, she could only get farther and farther away from the land of her dream, even if she had many friends to support her.

"Although I have let Mr. Cruise down a little, for me, nothing is more important than you, Uncle Tony."

Hearing Shania say so, Twain gave a long sigh, "You're going to make me feel guilty, Shania. Because I deprive you of the right to pursue your dreams…"

"Come on, Uncle Tony." Shania pouted, "Don't forget, four and a half billion years. I already feel that it's a bargain for four and a half billion years of love in exchange for a movie career."

What else could Twain say? He could only tightly embraced his young girlfriend.

※※※

Before helping Twain to bed, Shania casually asked, "What were you engrossed in reading? I've never seen you so focused on a… book?"

"A dream journal." Twain rubbed his temples. Although his eyes and mind were a little tired, he was in a good mood. "I was very pleased reading it. I wanted to stop but couldn't. I just wanted to finish reading in one breath …Unfortunately, it was cut off before the writing was done. The author was just horrible…"

"A dream journal? Is it a novel?"

"No, a reality TV show."

Shania shrugged. Her Uncle Tony sometimes liked to say inexplicable things. She was used to it, but it was safe to say that it was something to do with his job. Because that kind of focus only appeared when Uncle Tony was working. It was charming just to look at his silhouette.

After she covered the thin blanket over Twain and kissed him on the lips, Shania got up and turned to walk away.

Although the two people were engaged, they tacitly maintained their way of living at No. 13 Branford Garden Lane—they slept in separate bedrooms. It was such an arrangement even while they were on holiday in Brazil. It started out because Uncle Tony was physically weak, and his heart could not withstand the stimulation. Making love, getting orgasm which would lead to his heart beating overly fast and putting his heart in extreme danger were naturally forbidden. Later on, because the lifestyle became a habit… Shania would not take off her clothes and come onto Twain to initiate sex. As for Twain….. he was accustomed to a bachelor's life and neglected this area. Coupled with the hope to start work as soon as possible, he had not been in the mood.

But today, after he returned to the team and read Chen Jian's training logs, he suddenly felt he was in a good mood.

Twain grabbed hold of Shania.

He laid in bed and looked at Shania, who was still dressed like a little girl. The dim bedside lamp shone and penetrated the layer of gauze-like material, fully showed off her fine body curves as a model. Except for a pair of panties, she did not seem to be wearing any underwear. Her youthful naked body exuded a seductive fragrance through the thin top. It suddenly stirred his appetites and he was feeling amorous …

Shania did not move and leave. But she did not turn her face around and look down at Twain with a smile to say, "What's the matter, Uncle Tony?" She just stood on the spot with her back to Twain.

"Would you like to hear a story, Shania?" Twain's hoarse voice came from behind.

"Okay, Uncle Tony. But what's the story?" Shania still had not turned her head back.

Twain's hands suddenly exerted force and pulled Shania down in his arms, "Little Red Riding Hood and Uncle Wolf."

Shania did not play along with him and make a whining sound to act coquettishly as she pounced on Twain's arms. Instead, she screamed, "The pacemaker…" She was afraid that she would fall down and hit the pacemaker in Twain's chest.

Twain made a face and said, "Don't need to worry about that little thing…You're not playing along, Shania. The mood is gone!"

Shania laid on Twain's chest and glanced sideways at Uncle Tony, who had a straight face. Her lips slowly curled up at the corners as she said, "Isn't it supposed to Little Red Riding Hood and Granny Wolf?"

"Now it's Little Red Riding Hood and Uncle Wolf!" Twain tried hard to look serious and widened his eyes to act as the fiendish Uncle Wolf.

"Is Uncle Wolf hungry?"

"Yes, hungry!" Twain said gruffly. In fact, even if he did not intentionally do so, his voice was hoarse enough …

"Then in that case, Little Red Riding Hood will go make you a late-night snack!"

Twain did not let go and said, "No, you will run out to call the huntsman. I am not stupid!"

"Oh, what should I do…" Shania said in distress with her head cocked to the side, "Uncle Wolf is hungry and won't let me go…" She thought about it. "There's only one way!"

She suddenly unbuttoned her shirt with one hand and winked at Twain, "Feed Little Red Riding Hood to Uncle Wolf!"

Twain did not stop her too. He just let go of her other hand and put both his hands behind his head. He quietly watched Shania lowered her head as she carefully undid each button and gently unfastened. As her top was peeled off, that flawless milky white alluring body unveiled in front of Twain's eyes bit by bit.

He watched her in a daze, and suddenly there was a surreal feeling that he was dreaming.

The beauty standing undressed in front of him, was she really the long-legged Lolita who had annoyed him so much that he wanted to call the police? When he carried and rushed her to the hospital because she was unconscious from a fever, and disturbed Constantine's happy occasion, did he think that there would be a day like this between him and her? When the young cute girl constantly addressed him as "Uncle Tony", was he ever moved to love her from the deepest corners of his heart and wish that she would become his wife?

These past events and his feelings of the time were slowly blurring. Only the bashful body was clear in the dim light.

She opened her arms and leaned down slowly. With her cheeks flushed, rosy lips slightly parted, sweet-smelling breath, her voice spoke from the depths of her throat, as if through a layer of hazy water vapor, "Dear Uncle Wolf, please … don't hold back…"

An abundance of love flowed within the bedroom as if the two people's intense passion could not be melted.