Chapter Five: Long Yuyun’s Dream

“Yuyun, are you feeling unwell?”

Yin Xiuping had noticed since dinner that her husband seemed preoccupied. He had only shoveled down three bowls of plain rice, barely touched the egg pancakes she had made—his favorite—and, most oddly, after the meal, instead of his usual habit of chatting with her while she tidied up, he sat down straight away on the sofa, lit a cigarette, and stared motionlessly at the television.

She called his name, but he acted as if he hadn't heard. Even their son, Long Bisheng, who was playing nearby and kicked his ball against the wall, sensed something was off. He stopped the ball under his foot and looked at his father in confusion.

Yin Xiuping called out again before Long Yuyun finally snapped out of it. “Ah... Xiuping, were you talking to me?”

“If not you, then who else? Bisheng?” she replied, a little annoyed. “What’s with you? I asked if you’re not feeling well, but clearly you’re fine. Then what’s got you so dazed? You just sit there smoking after dinner.”

Long Yuyun gave an embarrassed chuckle. Despite being five years older than his beautiful wife, he still felt a bit intimidated by her. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and waved at Long Bisheng. “Bisheng, come here.”

Long Bisheng wandered over, still a little muddled, and his father felt another pang of frustration at his son’s clueless expression.

After thinking for a while, Long Yuyun pointed at the soccer ball at his son’s feet. “Do you like playing soccer?”

Long Bisheng looked blank. He hadn’t expected his father to ask such a question. After all, when he was just a year old, his father had given him his very first toy—a soccer ball.

Of course, he couldn’t really remember that, but his father had always told him the story with pride.

Seeing no reaction from his son, Long Yuyun didn’t get angry. If one of his soldiers had been this slow, he’d have shouted at them long ago. But just as he knew each of his men well, he also knew his son—this boy had always been a little slow to respond.

So Long Yuyun repeated his question. This time, Long Bisheng nodded. “Yes, I like it.”

“Good,” Long Yuyun said, having made up his mind. “In half a month, the August First Sports Team is holding tryouts for young players. I’m planning to take you.”

Long Bisheng didn’t react, but Yin Xiuping, standing beside them, heard every word. She asked in surprise, “Yuyun, are you serious? Bisheng is still so young, and you want him to try out?”

She might not usually pay much attention to soccer, but she knew all about the August First Sports Team. They were the pride of three million soldiers in the sporting world! Was her son really going to try out?

“With soccer turning professional, the August First team is building its own youth squad, for ages five to seventeen... Old Liu came by today to discuss it with me. It’s the perfect chance for Bisheng to give it a shot,” Long Yuyun explained.

“Do you think he can do it?” Yin Xiuping glanced at her son and asked quietly.

She’d seen plenty of the children in the compound play soccer. Her own son usually just stood by and watched. Even when he joined in, he’d never really stood out.

“It’s about taking part,” Long Yuyun replied, repeating Old Liu’s words. “And besides, it’s a good opportunity for him to see a bit of the world. Xinjiang is nice, but it’s a bit monotonous. Let him experience life outside early on—it’ll do him good.”

He paused, lowering his voice. “Don’t you think our son is a bit too quiet and well-behaved? Letting him see more of the world can only help. The more one sees, the more one grows—it changes a person’s character.”

“Aren’t you worried he’ll see kids who are much better and lose confidence?” Yin Xiuping asked softly, glancing at her son again.

“Why are we whispering like thieves?” Long Yuyun teased his wife, forgetting he was doing the same. “Don’t you know our son? He doesn’t lose confidence that easily... or rather, maybe he doesn’t even know what confidence is. Honestly, sometimes I admire how unfazed he is by other people’s opinions.”

Hearing this, Yin Xiuping nodded. It was true—since the day Long Bisheng was born, his most obvious trait—not quite a strength or a flaw—apart from his height, was his emotional steadiness. Even at two, when other children snatched his toys, he didn’t cry or fuss. He just came home and told her about it, so calm that she sometimes wondered if he was joking.

To put it nicely, he was unusually steady for his age; to put it less kindly, he was unusually thick-skinned.

“And it’s just for the experience this time. It’s not like he has to make the team. Now that soccer’s professional, chances like this will keep coming,” Long Yuyun continued.

Yin Xiuping nodded, agreeing with her husband’s view.

She didn’t think it was necessary to plan their child’s future so early. Whatever he wanted to do—join the army, go to college—so long as he was comfortable and happy, that was enough. That was all a mother could wish for her son.

But Long Yuyun saw things differently.

“I’ll never get the chance to play soccer again, nor help China’s team make it to the World Cup, but my son must play! He’ll fulfill his old man’s dream!”

He thought fiercely to himself.

His love for soccer bordered on obsession. The cold, mechanical drills of army life hadn’t dulled his passion—in fact, his strict discipline and precision in all matters only made him more fanatical about soccer. Otherwise, how could a man as disciplined as he had done something so out of character for a soldier on the night of May 19th?

Soldiers are human too. Their profession means they can’t weep or laugh as freely as others; they must find outlets elsewhere. For Long Yuyun, that outlet was soccer. Most fans wouldn’t go so far as to name their son “Victory” out of hope for the national team’s triumphs, but he did, and from the moment his son was born, he’d wanted him to play. It wasn’t about future earnings—before soccer went professional, it didn’t pay better than an ordinary job, and it carried more risks and uncertainties.

“Wow! The August First team!” Long Bisheng suddenly shouted. “Tryouts for the August First team—am I dreaming?”

Long Yuyun and Yin Xiuping were speechless. Their son’s reaction was a bit too slow, wasn’t it...

P.S. Five chapters posted today; starting tomorrow, there will be two chapters a day. In nine days, we’ll begin the ranking push—brothers, please keep supporting us.