Unconventional Center

Chapter 47: Can’t Turn the World Upside Down

“There sat 33-year-old Ugo, his gaze filled with emotion—a reflection of his own 23-year-old self. 501 matches, 367 goals, one European Championship title, two Serie A titles, three Copa del Rey titles, one Serie A top scorer award, five Segunda División top scorer awards, Valencia’s all-time leading scorer, and holder of the French National Team’s single-match scoring record…” “Youth remains crystal clear, while time flows away. Ugo turned down AC Milan’s offer to renew his contract, choosing instead to return to Valencia—the place where his dreams began.” “At his farewell match, AC Milan fans unfurled a banner reading ‘Díaz, don’t go.’ They pleaded with the referee not to blow the final whistle. Though this Frenchman had played for the team for only two seasons, he had scored fifty-two goals and brought home two Serie A titles. They wanted to keep him at San Siro—even if it meant just one more point, or one more second…” “He arrived with nothing, a complete unknown; he left with the Golden Boot and a championship title in hand. Yet he merely waved his sleeve as he departed, taking not even a wisp of cloud with him, leaving behind only a heart full of melancholy…” “Ugo returned to Valencia. Mestalla Stadium was packed to the brim; people wore his jersey, held up his portraits, and chanted his name, as if the years had never passed and youth had never faded. That former King of Mestalla, after half a lifetime away, returned still a young man…” As the title caption in the lower left corner changed from “Absolute Superstar: The Sword Is Drawn” to “Absolute Superstar: The Glory Fades,” the previously sparse stream of comments suddenly burst into a flurry of activity. “33-year-old Ugo was sitting right there. When he looked out with that tender gaze, all he saw was the shadow of his 23-year-old self—it brought me to tears.” “‘Waving my sleeve, I didn’t take a single cloud with me’—what does that even mean? I just can’t wrap my head around it.” “Damn it, who wrote this commentary? It’s the New Year, and it’s making me want to cry.” “A lifetime of playing, yet he returns still a young man… I’m definitely changing my signature.” “My ears are already pregnant—please tell me the name of the background song.” “Me too—please tell me the song title.” “Me too.” “To be honest, this song is actually just so-so, but paired with these visuals and this commentary, I’ve suddenly fallen deeply in love with it.” “I’m so torn—the Spring Festival Gala has started. Should I watch it or not?” “Huh? The Spring Festival Gala has started? No wonder it’s so loud. I’m going to pause this and go shut the door.” “Haha, I saw this coming—I’m wearing earplugs.” “Why watch the Spring Festival Gala? I’m waiting for the video to finish so I can watch it again.” “Who cares about the Spring Festival Gala? I wouldn’t even watch it if my girlfriend was lying naked right in front of me.” “You’re just bragging—unless you can back it up with proof.” “Me too—I want proof.” “Me too—proof, please.” It took Nirvana a while to catch on. Oh crap, the Spring Festival Gala has started. We’re screwed. Without waiting for anyone else to ask, the technician immediately volunteered a report: “The numbers have dropped by 410,000, and they’re still falling—though not very fast.” Liu Huai'an asked, “What’s the current number?” “The views are… Hmm? The view count has broken the record—5. 56 million.” A record? It’s already broken the record? Liu Huai'an was a little excited. It was worth it to make his young wife stay home alone on New Year’s Eve so he could work overtime. Not bad, not bad—a great start to the new year. But why does something feel a little off? Old Liu turned his head to take a look and realized exactly where the problem lay. Everyone else looked as if this were exactly what they’d expected—even Tian Hong, who’d been as nervous as a virgin heading to a blind date at the start, now looked completely calm and confident. We broke the record, you bastards! Well, to be honest, Nirvana Video has only been around for a year or two, so all this talk of “records” is really no big deal. At He Qingyuan’s home, three generations lived under one roof in harmonious bliss. He Qingyuan’s wife and daughter-in-law were watching the Spring Festival Gala while chatting idly, his son He Feng was holed up in the study, busy with who knows what, and his 9-year-old grandson was taking a bath in the bathroom. He Qingyuan’s eyes were fixed on the TV, but his mind was elsewhere. The World Cup finals are set to take place in mid-June this year, so one can only imagine how busy he is as the National Team’s head coach. Even though he’d finally managed to come home for the Lunar New Year, his mind was still consumed entirely by team matters. Who to put in the starting lineup, how to implement so-and-so’s instructions, whether to keep that forward or let that defender go—these decisions, which should have been settled long ago, had turned his mind into a jumble due to the various directives from the higher-ups. “Grandma, I’m all done!” His little grandson, with a head full of wet hair and wearing soggy slippers, came running over, his slippers making a “splash, splash” sound. “Hey, slow down, my little darling,” He Qingyuan’s wife hurriedly scooped up her grandson. “Grandma, I’m all done with my bath. Can I go play on the computer now?” “Go ahead, but only for an hour.” “It’s the New Year today—can’t I play a little longer?” “No, playing too long is bad for your eyes.” “Just half an hour more, okay?” “Well, it’s not that we can’t talk about it—it depends on how you behave.” Grandma pretended to be deep in thought. The little grandson’s eyes twinkled as he leaned in and planted a kiss on Grandma’s cheek, saying, “Grandma’s the best! Mwah!” “All right, all right, you little smarty-pants. Go on then.” The little rascal quickly scampered into the study, only to come running back out “scampering” and crying less than two minutes later. “Hey, what’s wrong?” His mother quickly grabbed his hand, asking anxiously. A grandchild is a grandchild—even the heavens and earth can’t compare to one. He Qingyuan, who had been lost in thought, snapped back to reality and looked at Little He with concern. “Daddy won’t let me play on the computer,” Little He said with a tearful face. The three of them breathed a sigh of relief. Grandma said, “I thought something terrible had happened. It’s okay, it’s okay. Grandma will go give him a piece of her mind.” His mom chimed in, “That’s right—we won’t let him get away with this.” Little He wiped away the few tears he’d managed to squeeze out and looked at Grandma and Mom with such a pitiful expression that it broke both their hearts. They were just about to take their little darling inside to tear He Feng to pieces, but then things took an unexpected turn… “Next, please enjoy the song ‘Overture of Dreams’ performed by the Diva Yu Min…” “Huh? It’s Yu Min.” “Yay! It’s ‘Overture of Dreams’!” Little He’s heart skipped a beat. Oh no—Grandma and Mom were about to change their minds. “Ahem, Xiao Ting, be a good girl. Once Grandma finishes watching this segment, I’ll go and teach that unfilial son a lesson.” “Ahem, son, don’t worry. As soon as I finish listening to this song, Mom will go and see that justice is served for you.” “Waaah!” “Stop, stop! Don’t cry! He Feng, you good-for-nothing, get your butt out here right now.” “All right, all right. It’s the New Year—what kind of a scene is this? Come here, Xiaoting. Grandpa will take you away; he can’t cause any trouble.” He Qingyuan couldn’t stand it any longer; he took his grandson’s little hand and led him toward the study.