In 2010, smartphones were still far from common in China. For almost every internet user, online forums were the only place to hang out.
Hao Junmin sat at his computer at home, grinning to himself as he stared at the post he'd just uploaded.
"What are you doing, honey? You've been glued to the computer and smiling like an idiot since we got home."
His wife walked over with a plate of fruit.
Unlike many footballers who dated models, Hao Junmin had married his junior high school classmate.
They'd been together since they were kids, and their decades-long relationship was the envy of many.
After Hao Junmin signed with Schalke 04, his newly-wed wife Li Qian had quit her job and followed him to Germany.
"There's a new Chinese kid at the club. He's really good. I posted a video of him on the forum."
"Again with the forums? Every time you go on there, you end up upset for days—all they do is trash you and the national team. Why do you even bother?"
Li Qian sighed, picked up a piece of fruit, and handed it to him.
"Sigh… what can I do? Our national team really is hopeless. It's been eight years since we got zero points at the 2002 World Cup, and now we can't even make the final qualifying round. We have to reach the 2014 World Cup."
"With the FA running things like this? You really think—"
"Stop. Don't say things like that."
Hao Junmin frowned and cut her off before she could say anything too reckless.
"Ugh, like I even care. Don't eat that!"
She snatched the fruit right out of his mouth, huffed, and stormed downstairs.
Even her toy poodle barked at Hao Junmin before trotting after her.
Helpless, Hao Junmin shook his head and sighed as he watched her leave.
"She was so sweet back then. Why's she gotten so grumpy since we got married?"
Muttering quietly to himself, he turned back to his post.
What he saw left him stunned.
His post had already been pinned to the top of the Chinese football forum, and in less than five minutes, it had over three hundred comments.
Holy shit, that La Croqueta is insane! This guy is no amateur.
Damn, that's on Iniesta's level—especially that outside-of-the-boot pass!
Are you sure this guy is Chinese? Doesn't look like it. Black hair, but such soft technique… feels Japanese to me.
Cut the crap. Why does every technically good player have to be Japanese? China's got talented players too, besides the national team.
Oh yeah? Name one.
…Alright, never mind.
All jokes aside, that play is absolutely ridiculous.
His vision and passing are world-class. That dribbling is Barça-level. This kid's future is huge.
...
Hao Junmin never expected his casual post to blow up like this.
He usually only visited forums to defend himself when people insulted him online.
He'd posted the video just to prove to the forum users who constantly hyped up Japanese football that China had talents too.
He never imagined it would get pinned.
The funniest part? Not a single comment was bashing Su Bai.
That was almost unheard of in China.
Even the 2008 Olympic basketball team had gotten roasted for underperforming. Yet years later, when China couldn't even qualify for the Olympics, everyone realized that 2008 team had been the peak.
Hao Junmin read the comments late into the night before finally shutting down his computer.
...
At 5 a.m., Su Bai's alarm went off.
He got up, washed up, and was ready to leave in less than ten minutes.
The system's status reset had wiped away all his fatigue.
Training ten hours a day only let him reset his stamina once, but nothing stopped him from earning more Training Points.
He'd made a plan the night before:
Wake up at 5 every morning.
Train alone from 5:30 to 8:30 — three solid hours.
Add the five or six hours of team training during the day,
and fill the rest of his afternoon with extra sessions.
He could train up to twelve hours a day.
It would be exhausting, but his base Stamina stat was a whopping 88 — more than enough to handle it.
Six attribute points in just five days.
The thought filled Su Bai with confidence.
September in Germany was already cool.
The training pitch was completely empty.
Su Bai began his lonely routine once again.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
In the early morning at Schalke 04, a boy chasing his dream repeated the most basic drills over and over.
Again and again.
As manager of the U18s, Daniel had always been an early riser.
He lived right next to the club complex.
After a quick breakfast, he walked to work.
The security guard greeted him with a smile.
As usual, Daniel lit a cigar and strolled slowly toward his office.
A cigar, then a cup of coffee — that was how he started every morning.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The sudden noise broke his peaceful morning.
Who could be out this early?
Daniel followed the sound and turned.
A black-haired boy, already drenched in sweat, was practicing shooting nonstop on the pitch.
Him again?
Daniel checked his watch.
7 a.m.
He'd worked at the club for years and seen plenty of hardworking players — but never this early. Most showed up at 7:30 at the earliest.
At seven, the only people around were usually kitchen staff preparing breakfast. He'd almost never seen a player training.
Especially not this Chinese kid, who had still been out here training at 11 p.m. the night before.
Daniel stopped and watched him closely.
His technique was amateurish, especially his shooting. Even with no goalkeeper, he missed the goal frame half the time.
For all his hard work, the boy was still hopeless at everything except passing.
Daniel shook his head and walked into his office.
Even so, he kept walking to the window every few minutes to glance at the lonely figure on the training ground.