Chapter 35

Old Lei Si probably never thought that he would one day have to entertain the head coach of Atlético Madrid.

As a gatekeeper, Old Lei Si had been here for nearly eight years. Over the years, he had seen countless head coaches come and go, but the total number of words he had exchanged with them probably did not exceed ten. Some coaches left Atlético Madrid without even getting a chance to say hello to Old Lei Si. It is often said that every club has a legendary story about an old gatekeeper, similar to the monk who sweeps the floor at Shaolin Temple. This statement is only half true; the old gatekeeper is real, but the legend is an exaggeration.

Old Lei Si is not a fan of Atlético Madrid, or rather, he is not a fan of football at all. Compared to football, he is more concerned about whether his grandson goes to school obediently. If he discovers that his grandson is skipping class to watch a match, he would certainly break his grandson's legs. Of course, if his grandson performs well academically, Old Lei Si wouldn't mind putting aside his pride and asking some big-name stars for autographs.

As a head coach, Lin Sen is an exception for Old Lei Si, but not because of football. Their relationship dates back to when Lin Sen was a team doctor, and they are old acquaintances.

"Is it appropriate for a head coach to have a gatekeeper treat him to breakfast?" Old Lei Si complained while preparing breakfast. The team had just gone through a week of double matches and was given a two-day break. No one knew what had gotten into Lin Sen, but he had come to the training base early in the morning and insisted on having breakfast with Old Lei Si.

"Why not?" Lin Sen, familiar with Old Lei Si's character, paid no attention to his complaints. "Are your legs still okay?!"

Old age often brings back pain and leg cramps, and Old Lei Si was no exception. Since Lin Sen came to Atlético Madrid, Old Lei Si had suffered much less in this regard. So, when Old Lei Si complained, Lin Sen directly said:

"Ah, don't even mention it. Recently, I've been feeling back pain again. Could you bring me some of that plant extract? The stuff you brought last time was really effective."

"Plant extract? That's called traditional Chinese medicine. Did you tell your son about it?" Lin Sen asked casually while eating breakfast.

"No." Old Lei Si shook his head. "But your... traditional Chinese medicine, though effective, is really hard to drink. If it weren't for its effectiveness, I would have thought you were deliberately trying to make me suffer."

"You don't have to drink it if you don't want to."

"Do you have any other methods?"

"No."

Old Lei Si sighed again. Lin Sen ignored him and finished his breakfast. After eating, he took a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Old Lei Si.

"This is for you."

"What is it?" Old Lei Si took it and only understood half of it, as the other half was in Chinese. The part he understood was an address and a phone number.

"The recipe for that plant extract. You can buy it yourself in the future. I've already arranged it with them." Lin Sen wiped his mouth and said.

Old Lei Si's eyes lit up. "You should have done this earlier."

Lin Sen smiled but did not respond. He didn't give Old Lei Si the recipe at first, not because he was afraid it would be leaked. This kind of recipe is not a secret in China. The main reason was that he was afraid Old Lei Si would buy the wrong medicine. Traditional Chinese medicine is not always reliable, even in China, and there are unscrupulous merchants who sell fake medicines. But now, Lin Sen couldn't afford to worry about it.

"Leaving." Lin Sen said and walked out of the room.

"Really leaving?" Old Lei Si asked from behind. Lin Sen didn't turn back but waved his hand.

"What a pity." Holding the paper Lin Sen left, Old Lei Si sighed as he watched Lin Sen's retreating figure.

---

Lin Sen did not go directly to his office but took a walk around the training field. Yesterday, As newspaper had just taken a photo of Xiao Hill meeting with Ressino. That night, Atlético Madrid announced on its official website that it had signed Ressino. The announcement only introduced Ressino and did not mention Lin Sen, not even a single word. The departure was a foregone conclusion. Lin Sen was not the type to indulge in melancholy, but like his previous experiences of moving from place to place, he wanted to leave with some memories.

The empty training field was like a stage without actors, always feeling like something was missing. Lin Sen thought he might be able to walk around for a few dozen laps unnoticed, breaking his own record or something. However, he found it boring after less than one lap. Just as he was about to leave, someone else came to the training field.

Motta.

"Good morning, Coach." Motta, clearly surprised to see Lin Sen, greeted him from a distance.

"Good morning." Lin Sen smiled in response. Meeting Motta was unexpected, but he was not surprised by Motta's presence. After a few interactions, Lin Sen knew that Motta was a player who cherished his career. Motta's rebirth was not a fluke.

"Together?" Motta asked, running up to Lin Sen.

"Sure." Lin Sen nodded, and the two began jogging along the edge of the training field.

"What are your plans, Coach?" After a few laps in silence, Motta finally spoke.

"Continue being a coach." Looking at Motta, who was still breathing steadily after a few laps, Lin Sen, who couldn't match his endurance, panted and said, "First division, second division, fourth division, Spain, England, Italy, Germany... nothing is impossible. What about you? Italy?"

Motta's eyes widened at Lin Sen's last words. His contract was about to expire, and his agent, Canovi, had been helping him contact his next club. While there were many clubs interested, few were sincere. Due to his injury history, almost all clubs were only willing to offer short-term contracts. Only one club offered him a four-year contract, and that club was from Italy.

"How did you know?" Motta, surprised, even dropped the formal address.

How did I know? I wish I could tell you, but I'm afraid you wouldn't believe me.

Lin Sen inwardly sighed. To be honest, if he weren't in such a difficult situation and didn't lack the charm and conditions to have Motta follow him, he would have genuinely wanted to keep Motta. A European champion-level midfielder, though not at his peak for long, was easy to manage... his glass-like condition was almost a bug designed specifically for Lin Sen.

"I saw it in the news." Lin Sen gave a vague answer.

"What news is that accurate? Who are you trying to fool..." Motta didn't believe Lin Sen's words at all, but he knew about Lin Sen's "gambler" reputation. Since Lin Sen didn't want to say more, Motta didn't press the issue. Instead, he asked, "Coach, can I ask you a question? About the treatment you gave me."

"Better not!" Lin Sen knew what Motta wanted to ask without him saying it. After leaving Atlético Madrid, Motta would no longer be able to continue receiving his treatment, but clearly, Motta didn't want to end it there. He wanted to find someone else to continue the treatment.

"Why?" Motta turned his head, surprised.

"Because only I can use this method!" Lin Sen said firmly. "If you don't believe me, you can try it. Acupuncture is not a new therapy; not only Chinese doctors but also many Western doctors use it."

Lin Sen's firm tone disappointed Motta, who fell silent.

"Tiago, your injury is already fully recovered. My treatment only reduces the chances of recurrence; it doesn't change anything. Consistent training and the right playing style are key. Italy is a good place for you; the league style there suits you. You should go." Realizing Motta's disappointment, Lin Sen continued, not as a consolation but as a fact. In his memory, Motta did not suffer any major injuries in the next two seasons and was able to play a relatively complete season.

"Thank you." Motta nodded, no longer asking more questions.

"You're welcome. If there's a chance, I hope we can work together again." Lin Sen said half-jokingly.

"I hope so too." Motta smiled.

After that, they fell silent again until Lin Sen, out of breath, slowly walked to his office.

---

A desk facing the door, with not much clutter on it, only an old, bulky computer and a pot of unknown green plants. On the left side of the room was a bookshelf, filled with books related to football and Atlético Madrid. In the corner was a regular water dispenser. Of course, a swivel chair, a symbol of status, was absolutely necessary, and there were no other chairs in the room, meaning that no matter how many people came, only one person could sit.

This was the head coach's office.

So simple, yet so distinct.

Lin Sen vaguely remembered when he first walked into this office. He wondered where his confidence and high spirits came from back then. He never imagined that he would one day have to leave in such a hurry, at least in the eyes of many people. The day came so quickly. Lin Sen touched the edge of the desk and walked to his former position.

Soon, this chair would welcome a new bottom.

Lin Sen did not sit down but looked out the window behind the swivel chair. Below, the training field was empty except for Motta, who was slowly jogging alone...