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

I opened my eyes, and the European-style ceiling light in my London home dispelled the lingering dreams of last night.

Sun Yang sat up straight on the bed, stretched out a big yawn, and his bones immediately made a series of popping sounds.

The fatigue from being "trained" by several legends in the virtual tactics room last night has faded away, and the muscle soreness left from the high-intensity battles against peak Kanté and Ibrahimovic in my dreams has also been completely cleared away with a full night of deep sleep.

It's currently the summer off-season of 2020. Away from the Bundesliga's hectic schedule, his mother has already filled his day with activities.

After washing up, Sun Yang went down the stairs to the first floor.

The restaurant was filled with the aroma of whole-wheat bread and sizzling chicken breast. Uncle Henry, wearing an apron, was all smiles as he pushed a glass of strangely green liquid to the center of the table.

"Good morning, my dear nephew." Henry tapped his glass with his knuckles. "Kale, celery, and two tablespoons of extra virgin salmon oil. Don't glare at me, this is Catherine's order. She said your body fat percentage needs to be reduced by another 0.5 percentage points."

Sun Yang pulled out a chair, sat down, picked up the "biological weapon" glass, closed his eyes, and gulped it down in one go. The taste was somewhat inhuman, but it provided the body with the high-quality nutrients it needed.

Catherine walked in through the side door carrying her personal physiotherapy kit. Today she was dressed in a smart tracksuit, her long blonde hair tied in a neat high ponytail, exuding the aura of a professional rehabilitation therapist.

"Does the stitches on the outside of your right thigh still feel tight when you stretch it?" Catherine asked without hesitation, stepping forward and placing her hand directly on the muscles on the outside of Sun Yang's thigh, pressing several acupoints.

In the half-season that just ended in the Bundesliga, Sun Yang, as the tactical core, was subjected to a barrage of "logging" kicks from opposing defenders in almost every game. A month ago, he was ripped open on the outside of his thigh by an opponent's cleats and had to be stitched up with three stitches in the medical room.

Although Sun Yang has the "Iron Legs" talent that reduces damage, 50% damage reduction does not make him absolutely invincible; he will still bleed from superficial wounds.

"It's all better now. Your massage technique is much more effective than those rough old German men from Dortmund." Sun Yang patted his right leg with a smile.

After breakfast, we changed into all-black casual sportswear and the family got ready to go out.

The highlight of this morning was a trip to Wellington Hospital in London. Catherine had booked an appointment with Professor Nick Cullen, a top authority in foot and ankle surgery, two weeks ago.

Although the system has already reconstructed his left leg, which was broken by Lante's flying tackle at Arsenal's youth academy, it is still a basic lesson for professional players to have a comprehensive imaging review during the off-season to confirm whether there are any hidden injuries to the bones caused by such high-frequency violent league confrontations.

A black Range Rover was parked in the yard. Henry was driving, with Catherine sitting in the back with Sun Yang. His mother, Diana, sat in the passenger seat, efficiently replying to emails on two phones simultaneously.

"The afternoon's schedule is finalized. Puma has booked the new product launch on a double-decker cruise ship on the Thames." Diana turned her head, her blonde hair dazzling in the morning light. "The 'Great Sage' exclusive combat boots they specially made for you have already been shipped out, featuring ultimate support and a responsive feel for passing and control."

"A cruise ship? Given the current situation, how can such a gathering get a permit?" Sun Yang asked, somewhat surprised.

Diana's lips curled into a confident smile befitting a top elite: "A completely enclosed venue. The backdrop is the moving Big Ben and the London Eye. Only thirty core media outlets and fifty die-hard fans have been invited—this is already the highest level of exemption. Oh, and Manchester City's Kevin De Bruyne will also be there as the main guest."

Sun Yang raised an eyebrow. De Bruyne, the most terrifying passing machine in football today, the absolute brain of Manchester City.

"Kevin is also Puma's ace. The management wants you two to have a friendly match, a gathering of two generations of assist masters, that'll be enough to keep the European sports media buzzing for a whole week." Diana handed the tablet to the back row, "We'll inevitably have some fancy interactions on the deck this afternoon. Kevin is known for his straightforward personality and football fanaticism, you two will probably have some purely technical exchanges."

The Land Rover drove smoothly through Hyde Park and into the private VIP passage of Wellington Hospital.

Dr. Nick Cullen was already waiting in the consultation room. He was a British gentleman in his fifties, with a shrewd look behind his half-rimmed glasses.

The two met and shook hands firmly.

"Champions League Best Young Player, Bundesliga MVP," Dr. Karen praised, patting Sun Yang on the shoulder. "I watched the game against PSG too. His consecutive changes of direction from midfield past six players was practically Maradona reincarnated. Come on, young man, sit up here and let me see your secret weapon."

Sun Yang sat on the examination bed, took off his sneakers, and removed his white cotton socks.

When the feet were fully exposed to the operating lights, the entire examination room fell into an eerie silence for a few seconds.

Even Catherine, who gave him physical therapy every day, couldn't help but twitch her eye and furrow her brows. Diana took a deep breath and turned her head away, unable to bear watching any longer.

These are definitely not the feet of a twenty-year-old.

The joint of the big toe protruded exaggeratedly outward, and the instep was covered with a large patch of purplish-blue blood, a mixture of old and new bruises. Several obvious dents were marks left by metal studs piercing through and stepping on the foot. Thick, yellowish calluses almost covered the entire outer part of the foot, the area where the foot exerted force, and the two toenails were blackened and on the verge of falling off due to long-term sudden braking and congestion.

Dr. Karen put on medical rubber gloves and pressed down inch by inch along the severely deformed joints, her previously relaxed expression turning serious.

"Is the pain intense here? The pressure on the lateral metatarsal bone is completely excessive," Dr. Karen asked, looking up.

Sun Yang shook his head, his gaze as calm as a still pond: "It's nothing. If you want to hit the ball into the corner, this wear and tear is just the interest you have to pay."

The image of Batistuta's feet from his dream flashed through his mind—feet of mangled flesh and broken bones, completely reshaped for the sake of violent aesthetics. In comparison, his own feet now could almost be described as fair and delicate. Those who stand at the pinnacle of the top five leagues never hide anything glamorous or dazzling in their boots.

"Let's get the X-rays done first. I need to focus on the old injuries to your left tibia and fibula." Dr. Karen grabbed the form and quickly signed it.

Half an hour later, several high-contrast X-ray films were clipped onto the viewing light panel.

Dr. Cullen clutched the fracture report issued by Arsenal six months prior, his gaze darting back and forth between the new scans and the old report. His nose was practically pressed against the glowing screen.

The atmosphere was unusually oppressive.

"Doctor, is it bad news or good news? The Bundesliga will only be more intense next season. Will his left leg be able to hold on?" Diana couldn't help but ask.

Dr. Karen ripped off her glasses, rubbed her temples vigorously, and pointed to two images of her left leg.

"Ms. Diana, do you dare swear in the name of God that Arsenal's diagnostic report from six months ago was accurate?"

"It's impossible for something to go wrong."

"That's unbelievable!" Dr. Karen couldn't help but swear. "Comminuted fracture! Periosteal tear! You're telling me this leg was ever broken? Normally, even if the best surgeon in all of England used titanium alloy to fill you with steel nails, there would definitely be raised callus and dense shadow areas on the bone after healing."

He suddenly turned his head and stared at Sun Yang's left leg, his eyes looking as if he were looking at an alien creation.

"But look at this X-ray for yourselves! The tibia and fibula of this left leg are smooth and flat, without even a tiny crack indicating severe injury. Not only that, the peak bone density in this area is even 20% higher than that of an adult Black athlete! What kind of self-healing ability is this? This completely overturns the common sense of modern sports medicine!"

Sun Yang calmly sat on the bed and put on his socks. He knew all too well what was going on. His "Iron Leg" had not only smoothed out the broken wound, but also strengthened the bone density of his entire leg from the ground up. This was his trump card, allowing him to go toe-to-toe with a 200-pound center-back in the penalty area.

"Then let's just consider this a medical miracle, right, doctor?" Henry said with a smile, trying to smooth things over.

"This isn't a miracle, it's a monster!" Dr. Karen shoved the films into a file folder and slammed it into Sun Yang's hand.

"Listen, lad, your left leg is tougher than special steel now. Forget about playing football; even if a family car crashed into it right now, the bumper would be the first thing to break! Go for it, these legs were born to kick open the door to legend!"