Chapter 38

Fantasy is always lush, but reality is often bony.

The old immortal did not take out a golden, shiny soccer ball and ask Rongguang if it was the one he had kicked into the lake, nor did he take out a silver, shiny soccer ball.

In fact, he did not take anything out at all. He just held the soccer ball and grunted at Rongguang, "Of course I know it's your ball! But kid, many people run and walk on this path. Don't you think it's dangerous for others to kick the ball so far?"

His expression was serious, and with his appearance and attire, he looked like a paragon of justice.

Rongguang was intimidated by his righteous demeanor.

"Uh... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... Hey!" He suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the old immortal and asking in surprise, "You're speaking Chinese!"

"Is it surprising for a Chinese person to speak Chinese, kid?"

The old immortal's Chinese had a slight accent from another region, which Rongguang found a bit unfamiliar, but he could understand it if he listened carefully. It was indeed Chinese.

"Uh, are you the old immortal?" Rongguang quickly changed the subject.

"I'm not an immortal, kid. Are you Chinese too?" The old immortal stroked his flowing white beard.

Although he said he was not an immortal, his actions and expressions were increasingly those of a sage. Rongguang felt that he was almost identical to the immortals in the stories his grandfather used to tell him. So he respectfully called him "old immortal."

"I'm from China, my name is Rongguang. What about you, old immortal?"

"My surname is Sun." The old immortal only gave his surname, making him even more mysterious.

After saying that, he threw the soccer ball to Rongguang, "Take it, kid. Don't do such dangerous things again."

Rongguang caught the soccer ball and thought about his problem. He did not immediately agree with the old immortal but frowned.

Seeing Rongguang's expression, the old immortal asked, "You have something on your mind, kid?"

Rongguang actually wished someone would listen to his troubles, so he sighed, "Sigh, it's a long story..."

***

Rongguang started with his hometown in the northwest, then talked about how he came to Brazil, his achievements on the soccer field, his low points, and finally his current worries.

After listening to Rongguang's story, the old immortal pinched his beard and asked, "So, you can't think of any way to use your running time to practice dribbling?"

Rongguang nodded, "Yes, that's exactly what I mean."

The old immortal smiled, stroking his beard, and looked at Rongguang with a smile.

Rongguang suddenly understood. His grandfather said that immortals were very proud and hoped others would ask for their help. So, was the old immortal waiting for him to ask?

He immediately said, "Old immortal, do you have any way to help me?"

At that moment, he truly regarded the old immortal as an all-powerful being. After all, soccer is a very specialized field. How could just anyone come up with a solution? But Rongguang never doubted this. He just felt that the old immortal must have a way!

Sure enough, upon hearing Rongguang's request, the old immortal chuckled, "What's so difficult about that?"

Rongguang was overjoyed—the old immortal really had a way!

"Wait here for a moment, I'll be right back."

With that, the old immortal turned and walked away.

Rongguang did not dare to ask what the old immortal was doing and waited on the spot. Of course, he did not idle. He used every moment to familiarize himself with the ball, practicing juggling it in place. He counted in his head, and if the ball hit the ground, he would start over.

Lucas said that at this stage, he needed to juggle the ball 300 times in a row without it hitting the ground to be considered qualified.

So he had been working towards this goal.

When Rongguang managed to juggle the ball 200 times in a row, the old immortal returned with his hands in his sleeves.

As he approached Rongguang, he threw something in his hand to him.

"Take it."

Rongguang reached out to catch it, but the soccer ball dropped. The number of consecutive juggles stopped at 202.

Rongguang looked down at the object in his hand, surprised, "A net bag?"

Yes, it was a net bag, a common one used to hold soccer balls.

This item could be bought for a few cents in a Brazilian convenience store, very cheap and ordinary.

Was this the old immortal's solution?

He was hesitant.

Just as he was hesitating, the old immortal's voice sounded in his ear, "Put the soccer ball in the net bag!"

Rongguang quickly complied.

He then noticed that the net bag was quite long, about two meters, and when fully extended, it was taller than him.

"Which foot do you use to kick the ball?" the old immortal asked.

"Right foot," Rongguang answered honestly.

"Then tie the other end to your right ankle!"

Rongguang did as he was told, tying the nylon rope of the net bag to his right ankle.

"Tie it tight."

Rongguang pulled hard, and it was very tight.

"Alright, now you can practice dribbling while running."

Rongguang was still surprised—was that it?

The old immortal seemed to know what Rongguang was thinking and laughed, "Do you think it's easy? Come, take a few steps, try to run while kicking the ball in the net bag."

Rongguang gently tapped the ball in the net bag forward, and it rolled a short distance.

"Your speed is worse than a three-year-old's!" the old immortal grunted from the side.

Feeling belittled, Rongguang kicked the ball hard and then sprinted forward.

Under normal circumstances, the ball would have been kicked ten meters away, and Rongguang would have used his explosive power to chase after it, using his speed to outpace the opponent. This was his most proficient dribbling style so far.

But Lucas had said this couldn't be called dribbling; at most, it was "passing to himself," sending a through ball to himself two seconds later...

This dribbling style was suitable when there was a clear path ahead and no defenders. But if the opponents tightened their defense and did not give Rongguang such space, this dribbling was no different from giving the ball to the opponent.

Rongguang accelerated as he usually did, but as soon as he lifted his leg, he tripped over the ball and lost his balance, falling to the ground!

Lying on the ground, Rongguang paid no attention to his bleeding knees and sore palms. He just sat there, staring blankly at the ball trapped in the net bag.

He realized what was happening.

Because the ball was in the net bag, it could not roll more than a few meters. When the rope was taut, the ball would bounce back, tripping him. If he was afraid of being tripped, he would not dare to use force, and he would never find his dribbling rhythm. Only when the force of each kick was just right, keeping the ball at the right distance, could he run at full speed without being tripped. That would be the key to success.

To achieve this, he needed to control the force and rhythm of his kicks, keeping each dribble within the length of the rope, no more than two meters!

Seeing his reaction, the old immortal laughed again, "You're not too stupid. When you can run freely with the ball in the net bag, your problem will be solved!"

Rongguang got up from the ground and bowed deeply to the old immortal, "Thank you, old immortal!"

He truly wanted to thank the old immortal. Knowing the method made things simpler for him. It was just a matter of repetition, like practicing juggling, passing, and shooting. Through countless repetitions, he would engrave the correct feel and experience in his muscles and nerves!

This was what he was best at!

The old immortal stood still, accepting Rongguang's deep bow, and then smiled, pinching his beard, "Go run, kid!"

***

After thanking the old immortal, Rongguang began his training.

He practiced dribbling while running, trying to find the feel of dribbling while moving. At first, it was very difficult because the ball was tied to his foot, unlike the free ball he usually kicked. Having something tied to his foot made him very uncomfortable, and the ball would suddenly bounce back, causing him to fumble.

At first, tripping over the ball or the net bag's rope was very common.

The lakeside path, which he used to run easily, now became very difficult to advance even ten meters.

He kept falling, getting up, and falling again, almost like someone with a leg disability.

Sometimes he had to sit on the ground to untie the knots in the net bag's rope, which were like masterpieces of knotting, combining all the most difficult knots. Brute force was useless; he needed patience and calm.

People around him looked at Rongguang, who kept falling and getting up, as if he were insane. They did not understand why someone would tie a soccer ball to their leg and run with it.

But Rongguang ignored these strange looks. He moved through these gazes, continuing to fall and get up.

In each failure, he summarized his experiences and lessons, trying to grasp the elusive, intangible feel.

Hmm, this time I used too much force...

Still too much...

This time it was too little, I couldn't speed up, and my rhythm was off...

Rhythm, rhythm, the rhythm of running is the most important. I can't sacrifice my speed just to control the ball; how would I be different from an ordinary player?

Come on, let's try again.

Rongguang got up from the ground.

This was the phrase he said most often during training:

Let's try again!

Bruised and battered, it doesn't matter, let's try again.

Failed again, no problem, let's try again.

Still haven't found the feel, it must be because I haven't practiced enough, tried enough, or done enough, so... let's try again!

One more time, to build strength for growth.

One more time, to get closer to the dream I'm chasing.

Rongguang stumbled and "rolled" along the lakeside path—his difficult progress on this path was not even considered "running." Falling and getting up repeatedly, it looked like he was rolling forward. The morning sun filtered through the dense tree canopy, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The wide lake reflected the dawn, shimmering with golden light.

Rongguang moved through these changing lights, sometimes blocking the reflection of the lake, sometimes hiding in the shadows, sometimes sprinting, and sometimes falling to the ground.

But he kept moving forward, no matter what position or how awkward it was.