Chapter Fourteen: Fatty Wang Sa

“I want to ask you—do you want to play professional football?”

When Wang Sa uttered these words, both Azati and Long Bisheng widened their eyes in disbelief, unsure if they’d heard correctly.

These two youths, passionate about football, knew well what professional football meant—those green-clad heroes on television, the athletes who, every weekend afternoon, delivered thrilling matches for fans both local and nationwide. Professional footballers were the stars who graced the pitch, whose names were on everyone’s lips. Thanks to the media’s reach, any fan understood that being a player meant generous earnings and a glittering social image—the kind of future countless young boys dreamed of.

Long Bisheng, after a brief daze, was genuinely happy for his brotherly friend Azati. In his simple mind, Azati was destined to play professional football! He scored with ease, sending the ball into the net as if it were the simplest thing in the world. What’s more, Azati was fast and tireless—weren’t these the very qualities a professional player needed?

But Azati’s thoughts were more complex. Over the past year, he’d watched many matches. With a father who’d received some education, he’d learned through the newspapers his father read that becoming a professional footballer was anything but simple. Who didn’t know that being a professional footballer brought admiration and riches beyond imagination? Yet unless one started intensive training at a young age, climbing the ranks step by step, there was little chance of becoming a player others envied and earning such wealth. Could just anyone make that kind of money? Hardly—a fortune like that meant years of grueling, unseen toil.

Besides, he was already fourteen or fifteen, and had only truly begun playing football in the past two years. He wasn’t even sure if what he and Long Bisheng did every day—kicking the ball back and forth—could be called real football.

More importantly, he still harbored doubts about the identity of this portly man before him, who claimed to be a talent scout.

“I think I need to discuss it with my family,” Azati said to Wang Sa after a moment’s thought.

“No problem. That’s the right thing to do,” Wang Sa nodded. “I’d actually like to visit your family myself. Besides, you’re still young, and the journey from here to Yunjia is no short trip. If you decide to come, your family should accompany you—the club can cover the travel expenses.”

Hearing this, Azati’s doubts diminished further. The man’s words were open and honest; there was nothing for him to be wary of. What’s more, the offer to bring his family along made it even more reassuring. Under the bright sky, what did he have to fear from this fat man?

“All right, I’ll take you with me.” Azati nodded, then turned to Long Bisheng. “Bisheng, you head home by yourself today. I have something to do and can’t play football with you.”

“Hurry home then,” Long Bisheng said cheerfully. “I’ll go back by myself. Azati, you have to go play football!”

Azati waved with a smile, watching Long Bisheng dash off with the ball, then turned to gather the sheep with his whip and said to Wang Sa, “Come with me. My house isn’t far from here.”

“That boy isn’t your brother?” Wang Sa asked in surprise. “He dribbles quite well.”

“Oh, he’s my friend. I treat him like a younger brother,” Azati replied offhandedly.

Wang Sa nodded. The boy looked older—probably around eleven or twelve. Though he dribbled well, Wang Sa could tell from those few passes just now that his technical foundation was weak, and he lacked a certain spark. If he were a few years younger, perhaps there’d be hope for training him; but after the age of ten, it was unlikely he’d achieve much.

What Wang Sa didn’t know was that the boy, who in his eyes looked ten or so, had only just turned eight.

Had he known that this ball-handling youngster was only eight years old, he would surely have considered bringing him to the Yunjia youth team as well. After all, Yunjia Tianyu’s academy system was the best in the country—not only because the owner spared no expense on facilities and top coaches, but also because of their extensive scouting network. The fact that Wang Sa, a scout well-known to the club’s owner Pei Wei, had come all the way to Xinjiang—a place notorious as a football desert—in search of talent, proved the club’s dedication.

Good local prospects were few in Yunjia; everyone at Yunjia Tianyu knew this. With a population of less than two million, the city was unlikely to produce many football prodigies. Only by casting a nationwide net could they ensure both quality and quantity.

Hence, in recent years, Yunjia Tianyu had dispatched a multitude of scouts across the country, searching not only in formal football schools but also in ordinary schools and open fields for young talents with potential. This strategy was highly effective—the club’s youth and reserve teams had ballooned like inflated balloons. Today, Yunjia Tianyu boasted nine teams including reserves, and such a robust system was the foundation of their sustainable development.

As for Wang Sa, the unassuming fat man, he was one of the club’s best scouts besides a few foreigners hired at great expense. He’d graduated from Birmingham Sports University in England and returned home with a heart full of patriotic zeal, only to face repeated setbacks. Only when Pei Wei, Yunjia Tianyu’s owner, happened upon his talents by chance did he finally find a place to put his knowledge to use.

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Long Bisheng ran all the way home with the ball, breathless. As he burst through the door, his mother, Yin Xiuping, who was cooking, asked curiously, “Back so early today?”

“Mom, when Azati and I were playing football today, a chubby guy showed up and said he was a scout from Yunjia Tianyu. He wants Azati to join their team!” Long Bisheng shouted as he dropped his schoolbag.

“What?” From inside the house, Long Yuyun sprang up from the sofa and dashed out nimbly. “A scout from Yunjia Tianyu?”

After much effort, Long Bisheng recounted the events in detail. Long Yuyun fell silent for a while, then sighed.

“It’s no wonder Yunjia Tianyu could win the top league championship in just four years—they’re truly extraordinary.”

ps: So tired. I don’t know why I suddenly feel this exhausted; I’ve been yawning since eight o’clock. Goodnight, brothers. I’m off to bed…