Awakening the Messi template, Florentino Pérez begs me to join Real Madrid

May 9, 2011, Xianghe, Hebei Province, National Football Training Base.

The bus stopped in front of a gray dormitory building.

Wu Shi jumped out of the car with his bag. The base was quiet, with figures running around on several training fields, practicing shooting.

Reports indicate that they received their room keys and put their luggage away.

My roommate was a midfielder from Shandong named Chen Yang, who didn't talk much.

After finishing tidying up, Wu Shi leaned against the window and looked outside.

More and more vehicles arrived downstairs, and the people getting off were all around his age; he had seen some of them at Chinese League One matches or on television.

His heart was beating a little faster than usual. He saw a figure; it was "Wu Qiu Wang" (a nickname for a football player).

In my past life, I remember Wu Lei, the "King of Football" who wore a Spanish jersey and scored against Barcelona, ​​the captain who later became one of the top scorers in the history of the national team, and the "hope of the whole village" who was highly anticipated by countless fans and also carried countless controversies.

At 3 PM, all the team members gathered at the edge of the training field. The head coach was a serious, old-fashioned coach who spoke concisely and to the point.

The coach nodded: "Everyone, let's get to know each other. This is Wu Lei, your captain. He just came from Shanghai."

A few low "Brother Lei"s rang out in the team, and many team members looked over with obvious admiration or even worship in their eyes.

Wu Shi stood in the crowd, his gaze fixed on that figure. It was him, his face younger, lacking the weathered look that came with his later experience studying abroad.

After the game ended, it was free time. Wu Shi stretched on the sidelines, his eyes involuntarily following Wu Lei.

He chatted briefly with a few familiar teammates, then walked alone with the ball to an empty half of the field, where he began juggling, sprinting short distances, and changing direction. His movements were unpretentious but extremely solid, each touch of the ball carrying a clear purpose.

Especially his starting move, his pace was so fast that it made Wu Shi's eyelids twitch – this is the basis of "sharp positioning" and starting speed mentioned in the search results in actual combat.

"Are you engrossed in watching?" a voice rang out from beside him. It was Chen Yang, his roommate.

"Is that Wu Lei?" Wu Shi asked.

"Yeah, the Shanghai team." Chen Yang's tone was full of admiration. "Last year's best newcomer in China League One, he's already playing in the Chinese Super League this year, and he's already scored three goals."

Wu Shi remained silent. In his past life, Wu Lei's performance in the league was often outstanding, and his tactical value even surpassed that of a mere goal-scoring machine.

We reported for duty and received our equipment. The person distributing the supplies was a young female team leader named Lin Wei.

She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with long hair tied in a ponytail, clean-cut features, wearing a dark blue tracksuit, and a discreet smartwatch on her wrist.

"Wu Shi, right?" She flipped through the list, glanced up at him, and smiled. "You're the youngest. Here's your room key and equipment, number 9."

She deliberately took out a red training vest with the number 9 printed on it, and when she handed it to him, her fingers inadvertently touched the back of his hand.

Several team members who were receiving their equipment looked over with complicated expressions.

"Thank you, Team Leader Lin." Wu Shi accepted the gift.

"Just call me Sister Wei," Lin Wei said gently.

"If you need anything, just let me know. It's not easy for young players to advance to higher grades, so take good care of yourself."

A tall teammate next to him snorted, not loudly, but loud enough to be heard:

"They've already joined the national team and they still need to be taken care of? If they're not grown up yet, they should go home and drink milk."

Wu Shi looked over. The man's name was Chen Liang, nineteen years old, from the youth academy of a traditionally strong team in the Chinese Super League, and he played as a striker. There were two or three other people around him, all from the same club or affiliated youth academy, forming their own little circle.

Chen Liang looked Wu Shi up and down: "Sixteen years old and already wearing size 9? Coach Li decided that?"

"Any objections?" Takeshi replied calmly.

"Any objections?" Chen Liang mimicked his tone and laughed. Several people nearby laughed along. There was no goodwill in that laughter.

The dormitory is a four-person room. Two of Wu Shi's three roommates are from Chen Liang's small circle.

Almost no one spoke while putting away their luggage; the atmosphere was somber.

At 3 PM, all team members assembled at Training Field No. 1. Head Coach Li, speaking with a Northeastern accent, said in a concise and forceful manner:

"Our goal this time is simply to reach the semi-finals of the AFC U-4 Championship. Whoever is in the best form will play, regardless of age or club."

Then he called out Wu Shi's name:

Wu Shi, sixteen years old, skipped a grade. I assigned him number 9.

Why?

I've watched his videos of playing for Guangzhou Evergrande in the China League One, as well as his CSL debut and the data analysis. There are two things I admire about this kid:

First, they dare to take action at crucial moments;

Secondly, his initial speed during off-the-ball runs ranks among the top three in the team.

A murmur rippled through the ranks. Chen Liang, standing in the second row, curled his lip slightly.

"Those who are not convinced," Coach Li scanned the entire room, "we'll see who's the best on the training field. Meeting adjourned, first practice session begins in twenty minutes."

As soon as the group dispersed, Lin Wei came over with her clipboard and first found Wu Shi: "Are you getting used to it? It's dry up north, drink plenty of water." She handed him an unopened bottle of energy drink, "Here, take this."

Wu Shi accepted it, feeling several gazes fixed upon him. "Thank you, Sister Wei."

"Don't be shy. If you can't sleep tonight, the base's medical room has sleep-aid sprays; you can come and get some."

After Lin Wei finished speaking, she smiled at him before turning to the other team members to give instructions.

Chen Liang walked past and whispered to his companion, "The team leader is quite busy, going around offering help to everyone."

The first training session consisted of basic passing and receiving drills and group scrimmage. Wu Shi was in the red vest group, considered part of the core. Chen Liang was in the yellow vest group, playing center forward.

A simple passing warm-up always felt off when the ball reached Wu Shi's feet—either the ball was too fast, or the landing point was awkward. Once or twice could be considered a coincidence, but five times in a row, it was intentional.

Wu Shi didn't say anything, adjusted his footwork to stop the ball, and then passed it out.

Coach Li watched from the sidelines without saying a word.

Wu Lei scored 24 goals in the China League One last year, and has already scored three in the Chinese Super League this year. He doesn't talk much, but his positioning and ball control are clearly superior to those around him.

After warm-up training

"The number 9 jersey is hard to wear," Wu Lei continued, his tone flat. "Once you wear it, you have to keep scoring goals. If you score, there will be less gossip."

"Newcomer? Which team?"

"Shaanxi, now Hengda." Wu Shi looked up.

A tall, thin man scoffed, "Hengda spent a fortune to buy it; how can it be the same?"

The third person chimed in: "Hengda spent such a huge sum to buy a sixteen-year-old. Hengda must have money to burn, right?"

The three laughed, their laughter dry and strained. Wu Shi recognized them as belonging to the same small circle—all from several closely related youth training camps, and they had been interacting frequently on social media before the training camp even began.

Wu Shi didn't reply and continued tidying up. He knew this would happen.

Who in the national youth team wasn't a prodigy who was pampered and nurtured from a young age?

It's no wonder people are impressed when a student who skipped a grade suddenly appears, wearing the number 9 jersey that symbolizes a key player.

Head coach Li said, "This AFC U-19 Championship is being held in Australia, and we're in a group with the host country, Indonesia, and Vietnam. It's going to be tough matches."

The scrimmage training has begun. It's a small-group, two-on-two drill, with Wu Shi and Wu Lei in one group, and Chen Liang and another midfielder in the other.

Wu Shi didn't speak. He adjusted his footwork, trying to stop each ball steadily before accurately passing it to the next teammate.

On the sidelines, Coach Li stood with his arms crossed, observing without making a sound.

Before the scrimmage began, the assistant coach announced a 30-minute internal scrimmage between the Red Team and the Blue Team. Wu Shi was assigned to the Red Team, wearing number 9 and playing center forward. Chen Liang was on the Blue Team, also playing center forward.

"Finally, we can face each other head-on." During warm-up, Chen Liang walked past Wu Shi and said in a low voice, "Let me see what a price tag of 800,000 euros really means."

Wu Shi ignored him and continued stretching his thighs.

The match begins. The Red Team's attacking linchpin is Wu Lei, who plays as a shadow striker behind Wu Shi. The Blue Team's tactics revolve around Chen Liang.

For the first ten minutes, Wu Shi barely touched the ball in the attacking third. The Red Team's midfielders preferred to pass it back rather than send it to him.

During a cross from the wing, Wu Shi and Chen Liang jumped simultaneously to contest the header. The two collided violently in mid-air; Wu Shi, being lighter, lost his balance, and his header went wide.

Upon landing, Chen Liang whispered, "You skipped a grade, this isn't the junior team."

Wu Shi rubbed his aching shoulder without saying a word.

In the twelfth minute, things took a turn for the better.

Wu Lei received the ball in midfield, surrounded by two defenders. Instead of forcing a breakthrough, he looked up and observed that Wu Shi had suddenly dropped back into open space in midfield. A low, diagonal pass instantly tore through the defense.

The pass was perfect, with just the right amount of power and spin. Wu Shi received the ball with his back to the goal, and Chen Yu was the one marking him.

Chen Yu was pressed very close, his elbow against Wu Shi's lower back. Wu Shi could feel the force being exerted by his opponent in secret.

Just when Chen Yu thought Wu Shi could only pass the ball back, Wu Shi moved. He suddenly lowered his left shoulder, making a feint as if he was about to turn to the left. Chen Yu's center of gravity instinctively shifted accordingly.

In that instant, Wu Shi flicked the ball backward with his right heel—the ball passed between Chen Yu's legs!

At the same time, Wu Shi turned sharply to the right and bypassed Chen Yu from the other side.

A groin dribble!

Chen Yu was completely stunned and stood there dumbfounded. Wu Shi caught up with the ball, and only the last center-back and goalkeeper were left in front of him.

He dribbled into the penalty area, but the center-back covering him blocked his shooting angle. With his eyes on the goal, Wu Shi gently tapped the ball across to the penalty spot with his left foot.

There, Wu Lei had already made a run from the back row and was unmarked.

Wu Lei received the ball, made a slight adjustment, and curled a shot with his right foot. The ball sailed past the goalkeeper's fingertips and into the top corner.

1: 0.

The ball went in cleanly and decisively. Wu Lei ran towards Wu Shi, raised his hand to give him a high five: "Beautiful pass."

With just this simple play, the atmosphere on the court subtly changed. The teammates who had been reluctant to pass the ball to Wu Shi earlier began to trust him.

Chen Liang's face darkened.

After the restart, the Blue Team pressed forward aggressively. Chen Liang was eager to prove himself and tried to force his way through several times, but the Red Team's defense was well-organized, and he couldn't find a good opportunity.

In the 25th minute, the Red Team intercepted the ball in their own half and launched a quick counter-attack.

After three passes, the ball reached Wu Lei's feet. He dribbled forward, attracting two defenders, and then suddenly delivered a through ball over the top.

Wu Shi understood immediately and started moving instantly. His explosive power was extremely strong—he shook off the guard who was marking him in just three steps.

One-on-one!

The Blue Team's goalkeeper rushed out of his goal. Wu Shi dribbled into the penalty area, and facing the goalkeeper, he made a right-footed shot towards the near corner. The goalkeeper was caught off guard and fell to his left to block the shot.

However, Wu Shi's shot was just a feint. He flicked his ankle and gently chipped the ball over the goalkeeper's head.

The ball arced through the air and nestled into the empty net.

2: 0.

After scoring, Wu Shi did not celebrate, but turned and ran back to his own half. However, the coaching staff on the sidelines applauded.

"See that?" Coach Li said to the assistant coach, "Just that one shot, the timing and technique were so good. It's rare to have this kind of mental fortitude at sixteen."

Chen Liang's face turned ashen. In the following minutes, his movements became noticeably more aggressive. During a contest for a high ball, he subtly nudged Wu Shi's ribs with his elbow, unseen by the referee.

Wu Shi groaned and clutched his ribs for several seconds to recover.

"Are you alright?" Wu Lei ran over and asked.

Wu Shi shook his head, took a few deep breaths, and the pain eased slightly.

The game continued. In the 30th minute, the Red Team won a free kick in the attacking third. Wu Lei took the kick, sending the ball to the far post, where Wu Shi leaped high amidst the crowd.

Chen Liang jumped at the same time, and the two collided again in mid-air. This time, Wu Shi was prepared, exerting his core strength and withstanding the impact.

A header!

The ball bounced off the underside of the crossbar and into the net.

3: 0.

The referee blew the whistle to end the first half.

As Chen Liang passed Wu Shi, he bumped into his shoulder hard. Wu Shi staggered and was caught by Wu Lei.

"Was it intentional?" Wu Lei frowned as he looked at Chen Liang's retreating figure.

"It's alright," Wu Shi said.

During halftime, Coach Li gave a brief summary, especially praising Wu Shi's performance: "His positioning was smart, his passing was thoughtful, and his shooting was decisive. That's what it means to play with your brain."

Chen Liang lowered his head, his face full of resentment.

Before the second half started, Lin Wei came over with a first-aid kit. "I saw Chen Liang hit you pretty hard just now, are your ribs okay?" she asked with concern.

"good."

"Let's check it out." Lin Wei gestured for Wu Shi to lift his shirt. He hesitated for a moment, then did as she said.

There is a small red mark on the right side of the ribcage, but no bruising.

"There shouldn't be any bone damage." Lin Wei breathed a sigh of relief and took out an ice pack. "Apply it for a while to prevent swelling."

Chen Liang, who was not far away, looked even more displeased upon seeing this scene.

In the second half, Chen Liang became noticeably more impatient. During one tackle, he made a vicious tackle from behind and side, aiming directly at Wu Shi's supporting leg. The move was ruthless and completely designed to hurt the player.

Wu Shi had no time to dodge and was knocked to the ground, rolling twice on the grass before stopping.

A sharp whistle blew. The referee rushed over and immediately pulled out a yellow card.

On the sidelines, Coach Li suddenly stood up: "Chen Liang! What are you doing!"

Chen Liang raised his hands in an innocent gesture: "I touched the ball first!"

"Touch my ass!" Coach Li rarely swore, "You get down here!"

Chen Liang was substituted off the field. As he passed the coaching bench, Coach Li stared at him: "You don't need to participate in training tomorrow. Write a self-criticism. If you do it again, you're out of the national youth team."

Chen Liang gritted his teeth, not daring to refute.

Wu Shi was helped off the field by the team doctor. Lin Wei immediately ran over: "How are you? Can you move around?"

Wu Shi tried moving his ankle and felt a sharp pain. "It shouldn't be a ligament injury, but I'll need to rest for a while."

"You get some rest," Lin Wei said to the team doctor. "Take him to the infirmary for a full checkup."

That evening, Wu Shi returned to his dormitory after receiving an ice pack at the infirmary, it was already past nine o'clock. His other three roommates were there—Chen Liang and his two companions.

The atmosphere in the dormitory was oppressive.

Wu Shi climbed onto the bed without saying a word and put an ice pack on his ankle.

After a long silence, Chen Liang suddenly spoke up: "You're lucky today."

Takeshi ignored him.

"Don't think you're all that just because you scored a few goals," Chen Liang continued. "The AFC U-19 Championship is a real competition, and those Australians are much stronger than us. With your small frame, you'd just be feeding them."

"Brother Liang is right," Chen Yu chimed in. "What young players fear most is being overpraised. If they get carried away by a few compliments, they won't even know how they died."

Wu Shi remained silent. He closed his eyes, reviewing today's match in his mind. On the system panel, the [Success Rate of Confrontation] had improved, but the [Risk of Injury] assessment had also increased.

They're right, the intensity of the competition here is on a completely different level compared to the Asian Youth Championship.

But Chen Liang was wrong about one thing—Wu Shi never thought he was anything special. In his past life, he had witnessed too many so-called geniuses fall from grace and knew all too well the cruelty of professional football. In this life, he only had one simple thing to do: kick every chance ball into the goal.

Three days later, the Chinese youth team announced its final 23-man roster for the trip to Australia. Wu Shi's name was on the list, with the number 9.

During the last training session before departure, Coach Li spoke with Wu Shi alone.

"Is your foot alright?"

"Alright, Coach."

"That's good." Coach Li patted him on the shoulder. "When you get to Australia, play freely. Don't care what others say. I need strikers who can score goals. If you can score, I'll use you."

"clear."

"Also," Coach Li paused, "some of the older players on the team might not be convinced by you. That's normal; football is all about the feet. Just remember one thing—on the field, the person wearing the number 9 jersey has only one task: to put the ball in the opponent's goal. Everything else is just noise."

As Wu Shi left the office, he ran into Lin Wei in the hallway. She was holding a box of ointments.

"This is for you, to relieve muscle fatigue. Remember to use it after landing from your long flight to Australia."

"Thank you, Sister Wei."

Lin Wei smiled and whispered, "Coach Li has high hopes for you. Don't let him down."

Wu Shi nodded and took the plaster.

That evening, the whole team held a meeting to watch video footage of the Australian team's matches. Their players are generally tall and strong, with great attacking power. In their first group stage match, the Chinese youth team will face the hosts in Melbourne.

"This will be the toughest match yet," Wu Lei told Wu Shi after the meeting, "but it's also the best chance. If we win, the entire group's situation will improve."

"They are very strong."

"Then don't try to outmuscle them," Wu Lei said. "Use your brain. Your positioning and finishing in front of goal are excellent, that's the truth. Utilize those two points, and the Australian defenders' slow turning speed will be your opportunity."

Wu Shi listened attentively. In his previous life, as a fan of Wu Lei, he had witnessed countless classic goals where Wu Lei used his positioning to tear apart the defense. Now, he was able to hear the other person's guidance firsthand.

On the eve of departure, Wu Shi did a final check of his luggage. The national team jersey with the number 9 was neatly folded on top.

Wu Shi is about to wear this national team jersey for the first time to represent the country in a match.