Peninsula: Aiming for a Grand Slam

Chen Jixian leaned against the ginkgo tree at the entrance of the convenience store, took out his phone's contacts, and found that name.

Kenji Sato.

The phone rang twice before being answered. I could hear a few keystrokes, like it was in an office.

"Mr. Chen." Sato's voice was as steady as ever, with a slight Japanese accent at the end.

"Mr. Sato."

Chen Jixian did not exchange pleasantries.

He didn't want to exchange pleasantries with anyone today.

"A domestic company just contacted me, saying that without their registration, I won't be able to play in domestic competitions or represent the national team in the future."

"I need to verify how much of what I'm saying is true."

Sato paused for a second, as if rummaging through a drawer in his mind.

"Mr. Chen, it's not convenient for me to say too much right now, nor is it appropriate for me to get involved in your brokerage affairs."

"But I can tell you one thing: very little of what the other person says is true; the rest is false."

Chen Jixian gave a soft hum.

It was definitely a scam.

Chen Jixian: "Then who should I contact?"

Sato told him:

Marcus Schneider, CEO of ASA.

"He is directly responsible for your contract and all legal matters. I will send you his contact information later."

"it is good."

Sato paused, as if considering his words, and then said two more sentences:

"Mr. Schneider used to work at IMG, and ASA went to great lengths to invite him to join the company."

"He only agreed to personally handle your management affairs after watching your match videos."

……

……

Chen Jixian returned home.

The living room lights are on.

Shen Xiaoting sat on the sofa, one leg crossed and the other resting on the edge of the coffee table, her phone lying horizontally as she looked at something.

She was wearing a loose T-shirt and athletic shorts that just fell a few centimeters above her knees.

Her calves were shapely and had a faint sheen under the warm lighting in the living room.

"You're home," Chen Jixian said.

She didn't look up: "I came back to get some things. I'll stay here tonight."

Chen Jixian changed into slippers, went to the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of water. He took a sip, leaned against the kitchen doorframe, and watched her.

"I hadn't seen you for a few days after you came back, and I thought your aunt had kicked you out. Turns out you're alright."

Shen Xiaoting put her phone on the sofa, looked up, and rolled her eyes.

How dare you say that?

"I thought you were just going out to play a game, but it turns out that 200,000 people petitioned for you to get out of South Korea, so I just packed my bags and hid at the company."

Chen Jixian smiled.

After laughing, he picked up his water glass and said in a more serious tone, "Thank you."

Shen Xiaoting glanced at him.

She didn't accept his thanks, but instead scanned him from head to toe, as if to make sure he wasn't missing any limbs.

"Congratulations on winning the championship," she paused, then added, "You've had a tough time too."

Chen Jixian took a sip of water.

That's really tragic.

But the gains were also plentiful.

He put down the cup: "It's alright. I did what I promised you, and I didn't die out there."

Shen Xiaoting smiled.

Chen Jixian suddenly remembered something, put down his water glass, and glanced at the time again.

"Oh, right, someone's coming later."

Shen Xiaoting raised her eyelids.

"Who?"

"It's from my agency, they came from London."

Shen Xiaoting put down her phone and glanced at him.

The meaning behind that look was simple: When did you sign with the company? Does your aunt know?

Chen Jixian rolled his eyes: "Don't worry, even my own mother knows. I'm almost 18, so I can't sign anyone by myself."

She thought about it and agreed: "When will we arrive?"

"Soon."

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" She stood up and gathered the snack bags on the coffee table.

Chen Jixian watched her pack, his gaze inadvertently sweeping over her legs before quickly looking away.

He hesitated for a moment, but then spoke.

"Do you... want to change your pants?"

Shen Xiaoting stopped moving.

She straightened up, turned around to look at him, her face not showing anger, but rather a clear "Say it again?"

"What did you say?" she asked.

"I said, someone's coming later..."

"I heard you. If no one comes, should I just keep quiet?"

Chen Jixian opened his mouth.

Then he nodded with a smile:

"Yes, I'll watch it secretly by myself."

She looked at Xiao Chen as if he were an alien.

Chen Jixian,

Things have changed.

Shen Xiaoting suddenly remembered something.

She looked surprised: "You and Irene, could it really be...?"

She thought that Xiao Chen was an "adult" and a "man".

The smile on Chen Jixian's face froze for a moment.

He lowered his head and took another big gulp of water.

"Sister Xiaoting, you're overthinking it."

Shen Xiaoting didn't say anything, picked up her clothes, and walked towards her room.

As I passed by, I left a comment:

"Next time someone visits, remember to send a message in advance; don't do a surprise visit."

The room door was closed.

Chen Jixian stood in the living room and sighed.

He casually turned on the TV, and it happened to be a tennis program.

About ten minutes later,

Doorbell rang.

Schneider stood outside the door, dressed in a sharp suit but without a tie, carrying a black briefcase in his left hand.

He had thick, dark brown hair, neatly combed back, and his face was expressionless.

"Mr. Chen."

Schneider extended his hand.

He spoke in English, with a slight German accent.

The German introduced himself as "Marcus Schneider."

Chen Jixian shook his hand and stepped aside, saying, "Mr. Schneider, please come in."

When Schneider entered, he surveyed the entire space from front to back.

The shoe cabinet in the entryway, the sofa in the living room, two cups on the kitchen counter, and a women's magazine on the coffee table.

"Time is limited, so let's get started."

Chen Jixian nodded: "Okay."

Schneider opened his briefcase and took out a stack of documents:

"First of all, Mr. Sato relayed your situation."

"A company in China contacted you, claiming that you cannot participate in domestic competitions and national team selections without registering through them."

Xiao Chen nodded.

Schneider's voice was calm, like a forensic pathologist giving an autopsy report:

"The conclusion is simple: their claims are unfounded."

"Zheng Qinwen is signed with IMG, and IMG managed Li Na's entire professional career."

"It's not that no athletes in China sign with foreign companies, but the Tennis Association has never said anything like 'must be registered through a domestic agency'."

"Moreover, the so-called National Games qualification is not something that ordinary companies can obtain."

"They're completely bluffing you, or it's just empty promises."

Chen Jixian nodded.

Even if it's true, it doesn't matter. As I said before, tennis is one of the most commercially successful sports.

For table tennis and badminton, the national team is not only an honor, but also a foundation for their profession.

Even if you're the top player on the national team, once you leave the stage, apart from your core fans, who knows what you're busy with?

For tennis,

Montblanc is a symbol of national honor and a luxury item.

Points and championships are the real necessities for an athlete.

If you lose everything, you might as well just wait to die.