Football: He suffered a broken leg at the start of the game, but partnered with Haaland!

The Player of the Game was undoubtedly the winner.

The organizing committee staff handed the small MVP trophy bearing the AFC logo to Sun Yang. There were no cheers from the audience; the empty Songkhla stadium was only filled with a few photographers wearing media passes snapping photos. The flashes shone on Sun Yang's still-sweaty face.

Cannavaro walked over and patted Sun Yang on the back, urging him to take a shower and change his clothes.

The Chinese team's bus slowly drove out of the stadium and headed towards the Crowne Plaza Songkhla Hotel.

The atmosphere inside the carriage reached its peak. The young national Olympic team players excitedly discussed the goals they had just scored.

Zhang Yuning sat next to Sun Yang, still holding the half-finished bottle of mineral water in her hand.

"Yang-ge, that last long pass of yours, I was thinking, if that pass was too long, I'd be running my legs off. But it was like the ball had a GPS tracker, it rolled right to my feet. I didn't even have to adjust my footing, it was so comfortable."

Sun Yang leaned back in his chair, relaxing his thigh muscles.

"If the pass is too long, it's my fault. You forwards just need to keep running forward and don't worry about those few back-and-forth runs. Make sure the ball is delivered correctly."

Chen Binbin, who was sitting in the front row, turned around and interrupted.

"Captain, apart from those big-name foreign players, when have any domestic players in the Chinese Super League ever seen such accurate passes? We used to be the ones chasing the ball, but today we experienced what it's like to have the ball find the player."

More than half an hour later, the bus arrived at the hotel.

Several familiar figures were already standing in the lobby.

Catherine, wearing a white sports jacket, pushed a trolley loaded with various instruments. Henry held a thick stack of English lists. Diana, wearing Bluetooth headphones, was arguing with someone in English. Sun Wu stood quietly to the side, hands behind his back, waiting.

The Chinese team players got off the bus one after another, and were all stunned by what they saw.

Zhang Yuning nudged Sun Yang with his elbow.

"Brother Yang, what's this for?"

"My private team."

Sun Yang walked over. Catherine stepped forward, holding an electronic thermometer, and took Sun Yang's temperature on his forehead.

"Your body temperature is slightly elevated. Your heart rate is still around 90 beats per minute. Go back to your room first; you have a serious buildup of lactic acid that needs to be emptied immediately."

Catherine's tone left no room for argument. She didn't even greet the Chinese players beside her, pushing the equipment cart directly towards the elevator. This is the working condition of top European physiotherapists: during the crucial post-match recovery period, all social interaction is secondary.

Huang Zhengyu swallowed hard.

"Captain, you're acting more professionally than the entire medical team of our national Olympic team."

The luxury suite on the second floor.

This room was rented by Sun Wu at his own expense, specifically to serve as Sun Yang's physiotherapy room and temporary dining room.

The door was open, and several national Olympic team players who were on good terms with Sun Yang curiously peered inside.

Sun Yang lay on the physiotherapy bed, his upper body bare.

His back and thighs were covered with a dense array of electrode pads. Several instruments emitted regular beeping sounds. Catherine held a deep fascia gun in her hand, rhythmically pushing it along the muscle lines of Sun Yang's back.

Huang Zhengyu lowered his voice and muttered to Zhang Yuning beside him.

"When we finish a game in China, the team doctor just gives us an ice pack, and then everyone just gets a couple of massages, maybe cupping at most. Yang is practically doing scientific research."

At the physiotherapy bed, Sun Wu ignored the group of young men outside the door. He extended two fingers and pressed a few times on a muscle on the outside of Sun Yang's right thigh.

"Girl, stop for a moment."

Sun Wu called a halt to Catherine's actions.

"Here. Two inches above the Chengshan acupoint. During his sudden stop and change of direction in the second half, his right leg exerted too much force, and the tendon here got a bit constricted. The machine can't open it up; you have to straighten it by hand."

Catherine turned off the massage gun and followed the location indicated by Sun Wu.

Under the pressure, Sun Yang gasped in pain.

"There is indeed a hard lump." Catherine was surprised. "The electromyography (EMG) results from various instruments didn't show any tiny lesions here. How did you determine that?"

Sun Wu withdrew his hand, his tone indifferent.

"Practicing martial arts and performing opera often involves injuries. Those few movements of his look like they use his legs, but the power actually comes from his waist. If his waist is fine, the outside of his legs will definitely be strained. After you finish using your method to remove lactic acid, I'll give him a cupping treatment at the end."

Catherine stepped back in admiration; she had long witnessed the Chinese father's remarkable methods. This combined Chinese and Western rehabilitation system was the hidden guarantee behind Sun Yang's ability to maintain his extraordinary attendance rate.

Chen Binbin, standing outside the door, shrank back in shock.

"Yang's biological father is a ruthless man too. Yang's face turned white just from that one press."

The physical therapy session is over.

Sun Yang changed into a loose set of casual clothes and came to the dining table in the suite.

Henry had already prepared dinner.

Several enormous platters were brought to the table. They were piled high with salmon that hadn't been grilled with much sauce, boiled chicken breast, several large pieces of lean beef that were almost well-done but very thinly sliced, a large bowl of broccoli salad, five or six boiled egg whites with the yolks removed, and a glass of oddly colored green vegetable juice on the side.

Zhang Yuning and several teammates went downstairs to eat at the hotel's buffet, then ran back upstairs to join the fun. They were still carrying the kebabs and iced cola they had just snagged downstairs.

Looking at the pile of bland food in front of Sun Yang, Zhang Yuning shook his head.

"Yang-ge, you scored three goals, and you're celebrating with this?"

Henry tapped the table with his finger.

"This meal, including the recovery pills he just drank, has a total of 2,000 calories. He needs to consume a precise 4,500 calories for the whole day. That's equivalent to the intake of 30 eggs and 3 kilograms of lean meat for an average person. These salmon were specially purchased today by Sun Yang's father, Sun Wu, through a local Chinese community group; 100 kilograms of them are stored in the cold storage downstairs."

Henry saw the iced cola in Zhang Yuning's hand, snatched it away, and threw it into the trash can next to him.

"High sugar content combined with carbon dioxide is a drug that destroys an athlete's bone density. If you want to still be able to run after you're 25, stay away from this stuff."

Zhang Yuning watched as his Coke was thrown away, but he couldn't utter a single harsh word. He knew that the foreigner in front of him was a top sports nutritionist in Europe.

"You guys in the domestic league eat barbecue, drink beer, and eat that sea cucumber stuff. In our top five European leagues, players with those habits wouldn't even make the bench," Henry bluntly stated his opinion. "That's why you guys get cramps by the 70th minute, while he can still sprint half the field by the 90th minute."

The young men from the national youth team exchanged glances. The shock they received today was greater than all of the previous decade combined. This was the professionalism of a world-class player; every bite they ate was a preparation for the next match.

Sun Yang used a fork to stuff the egg whites into his mouth, chewing and swallowing them quickly.

Diana walked over and placed a tablet computer next to Sun Yang.

"Well done, son. As soon as the data from this match came out, all those brands that were initially hesitant called within half an hour."

Diana pointed to an English contract on the screen.

"This American sports drink brand offered a two million euro endorsement fee for a year. The condition was that you had to hold up their drink bottle and face the camera after every game."

Before Sun Yang could speak, Sun Wu, who was sitting opposite him drinking tea, pulled the tablet over.

He put on his reading glasses and stared at the screen for two minutes.

"Reject it."

Sun Tzu answered very decisively.

"What's wrong?" Diana asked, puzzled.

Sun Wu pointed to the company logo on the tablet.

"This company used a model with squinty eyes who was suspected of discriminating against Asians in a Google ad last year. Although it didn't cause a big stir at the time, this kind of thing leaves a criminal record. Yangyang's identity is not only that of a Dortmund player now, he now represents the Chinese national team. No matter how much money they offer, you can't touch this kind of brand. Once you accept it, it will be a stain that you can't get rid of."

Diana took back the tablet, offered no objection, and immediately crossed out the name.

"Then let's move on to the next one. Several domestic car companies are very interested. I'll list the preliminary contracts tomorrow."

The entire team operates with precision and efficiency.

The Chinese teammates silently left the room. Zhang Yuning walked down the corridor and threw the half-eaten kebab in his hand into the trash can.

"Brothers, the Chinese Super League is too small a pool. We used to be like frogs in a well. Yang Ge's ability to establish himself in the Bundesliga is not just due to luck."

at night.

The area outside the Crowne Plaza Songkhla Hotel was quiet.

Sun Yang lay on his own single bed in his room.

Breathe steadily and close your eyes.

The familiar blue light screen popped up in my mind right on time.

"The host has been detected participating in an international official competition for the first time representing the national team."

"Match progress detected."

"The host was involved in four goals in a single match (three goals and one assist), and the post-match rating is: SSS level."

"Congratulations, host, on obtaining the SSS-level special reward: Personal Muscle Recovery Acceleration Function (Passive)."

The moment those words appeared, Sun Yang felt a slight tingling sensation throughout his muscles. The deep fatigue accumulated from the competition was rapidly dissipating. This skill was practically a god-tier cheat code for a packed schedule. Combined with Kanté's perpetual motion machine, he truly became a machine that never stopped.

"Reward: 3 points in real-world competition."

"Current system points remaining: 27 points."

"The system detected that the host completed various high-difficulty shots, including a powerful shot under high pressure in the penalty area, a lob shot from the outside of the foot from a zero-angle baseline, and a powerful free kick from 33 meters away."

"Host's shooting attribute has been improved."

"Shooting: Increased from 80 to 86".

Sun Yang looked at his attribute panel. A shooting rating of 86, coupled with the skill boosts from Batistuta GO and Carlos's powerful shot, made him a formidable force outside the penalty area, unmatched in the entire Asian football scene.

"27 points."

Sun Yang did the math. He had more than enough points to unlock the All-Star Dream Match.

But now is a crucial period in the Asian Cup group stage, with a match against Uzbekistan U23 in three days, followed by a game against Iran U23. The schedule is too tight.

While the Dream All-Star Match doesn't consume physical energy, engaging in a ninety-minute, real-life battle with historical legends is incredibly taxing on both nerves and stamina. Maintaining a high level of concentration in reality is also necessary; challenging those monsters now is far too risky.

"The All-Star Game will not be held for the time being."

Sun Yang recalled the high-ball landing point judgment he had learned from Klinsmann during the last All-Star game and made the instruction in his mind.

"Activate the regular dream training ground."

A blue light screen flashed.

Sun Yang found himself in that familiar enclosed green field.

"Generate five virtual defensive players. Strength setting: starting level in Europe's top five leagues. Height setting: 190 cm or above. Weight setting: 85 kg or above."

Sun Yang needs to address his current weaknesses. His physical strength attribute is only 65, which puts him at a disadvantage against purely muscular opponents. In future European competitions, this kind of high-intensity physical combat will be commonplace.

A flash of light. Five expressionless, burly virtual guards appeared on the training field.

They wore matching black training uniforms, lacked star player skills, but possessed solid defensive positioning and formidable muscular strength.

"We started training with our backs to the goal, resisting pressing, and competing for headers on high balls."

boom.

The system launched a ball from mid-air.

Just as Sun Yang was about to jump to contest the header, a virtual defender leaped high and headed the ball out of the penalty area before Sun Yang could jump.

Then another ball rolled down the ground.

Sun Yang stopped the ball at his feet, and two virtual defenders collided with him.

The muscles collided, producing a dull thud.

Even with the injury reduction from his strong legs, Sun Yang was still knocked back two steps, and the ball at his feet was poked away by another defender.

"Again."

Sun Yang took his position again.

The ball flew back again.

This time, Sun Yang lowered his center of gravity in advance, arched his back, and concentrated all his strength in his lower body. A burly man behind him pressed against him, using his knee to brace against Sun Yang's thigh, while simultaneously using his thick arms to pull on Sun Yang's waist.

Sun Yang forcefully stepped on the ball with his left foot and supported himself on the ground with his right foot.

The two were locked in a struggle.

Just as Sun Yang was about to turn and protect the ball, the virtual defender next to him suddenly rushed in and used a clean and decisive sliding tackle to bring Sun Yang down onto the grass, along with the ball.

This European-level encirclement and strangulation is suffocating.

"It's still not enough. My core strength can't withstand these repeated attacks."

Sun Yang got up from the grass and continued training.