Fair weather with a gentle breeze, high sky, and light clouds.

Near noon, Hongjing Eighth School’s competition bus finally arrived outside Yongchuan Hengda Stadium.

The stadium was magnificent, surrounded by large parking lots.

Looking up the steps from a distance, the huge inflatable banner at the main entrance, with a red background and white text, clearly displayed “Youth Super League East China Region Finals.”

The teacher in charge led the spectating students off the bus, organizing everyone for lunch. Competing athletes needed to enter through the players’ special security checkpoint, so they had to temporarily separate from the audience.

The bus stopped outside the players’ entrance.

At noon in spring, the sun was quite powerful, making the bus hot and stuffy.

The students were seeing such a grand scene for the first time. They looked back at the parking lot, where rows of obvious school buses were parked. Students wearing uniforms from various Yongchuan high schools filed off the buses.

The whole scene looked enormous.

Qin Ao loosened his school uniform collar: “So many people, all coming to watch our match?”

Qi Liang: “The finals have organized attendance. Don’t make such a fuss, haven’t you been to one before?”

“You talk as if you have!”

“I indeed haven’t.” Qi Liang put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

Qin Ao was momentarily speechless, then turned to look at his phone, inexplicably restless. “Where are Fu and Wen? How did they suddenly become so close that they’re taking the high-speed rail together?”

“Boss, are you jealous again?” Lin Lu asked.

Just as Qin Ao was about to speak, he suddenly saw a familiar figure passing by their bus, walking toward the security entrance.

From Hanling Guangming Cinema to Yongchuan Hengda Stadium, the drive takes 1 hour and 45 minutes.

Not all choices are made with definite reasons.

Most are impulses.

Lin Wanxing, phone in hand, took leave from her manager and rushed out of the cinema.

It wasn’t until she was ready to hail a DiDi that she realized her phone was still frozen.

She could only flag down a taxi, and then restart her phone.

“To Yongchuan? That’s so far!” the taxi driver said in surprise.

“Yes.” Lin Wanxing closed the car door and said decisively.

After this brief exchange, the taxi driver stepped on the gas.

The window lowered, the spring wind surging powerfully. Watching the scenery rapidly retreating on both sides of the road, Lin Wanxing’s mind was still in chaos.

The phone restarted, notification sounds rang out, and the screen turned from dark to bright.

Looking at the now-normal phone interface, Lin Wanxing, as if deciding, reopened WeChat.

Yongchuan Hengda Stadium, security entrance passage.

Qin Ao felt his chest tighten.

Through the car window, he saw Xiang Zi’s face—a face that made one want to beat him up.

Passing by Hongjing Eighth School’s bus, Xiang Zi was also startled.

As if sensing something, he looked up.

Qin Ao immediately raised his fist and waved it at him.

At the same time, Wen Chengye and Fu Xinshu also appeared outside the passage.

“What are you doing here?” Wen Chengye was uncharacteristically emotional. He walked quickly forward, grabbed Xiang Zi’s collar with one hand, and pushed him.

Xiang Zi’s back hit the vehicle hard, making the entire bus shake.

Fu Xinshu had never seen Wen Chengye like this and was completely shocked.

But this was the entrance passage, with other staff around. As surrounding people turned to look, he rushed over to hold Wen Chengye back: “The match is about to start, calm down!”

Wen Chengye’s face was cold and proud, his hand as immovable as an iron clamp.

“Do you know who this idiot is?” Wen Chengye laughed coldly. “Let me introduce you, this is Xiang Zi. The beast who framed our teacher.”

Hearing this name, Fu Xinshu immediately understood and glared at Xiang Zi, extremely indignant.

“I came here with a research team today.” Xiang Zi’s expression fluctuated, but he still explained, “There are people all around; I advise you to show some respect.”

“Do you deserve it?” Wen Chengye’s voice was cold enough to freeze.

Qin Ao and the other students also got off the bus.

Everyone aggressively surrounded this seemingly dignified doctoral student.

Seeing this situation, Xiang Zi gripped his phone tightly, but his attitude cowered: “Don’t do anything rash, I’ll call the police.”

Not far away, stadium security was also walking toward them.

Fu Xinshu immediately became clearheaded.

No matter how despicable Xiang Zi was, for the sake of the bigger picture, they couldn’t have a conflict here.

He steadied himself and said to Wen Chengye: “Let him go.”

“What did you say?” Wen Chengye turned his head.

His eyes were completely black, with truly reckless ferocity and violence.

“We’re about to play a match; we can’t have violent conflicts before the game. Besides, even if you stand here and beat him to death, it won’t solve the problem.” Fu Xinshu said very calmly.

Wen Chengye’s first reaction was to doubt he had heard wrong. Then, Fu Xinshu saw deep disappointment in Wen Chengye’s eyes.

He sighed almost mockingly: “All you care about is the match?”

“This is the effort of all of us.” Fu Xinshu said very seriously.

On the Hanyong Expressway, low but endless mountains lined both sides of the road.

In the flat areas between mountain valleys were vast patches of golden rapeseed flowers, like scattered gold.

The sunshine was exceptionally fine, the entire road smooth and soft, as if everything was immersed in clear light.

Lin Wanxing leaned her head against the car window, carefully reading through the messages from her students, one after another.

No wonder her phone had frozen—they truly shared everything with her, big or small.

From training schedules, weekly study plans, and daily homework to the worm-infested areca palm and failed strawberry planting. Whatever they experienced, they would take photos or videos to send to her.

The fried skewer shop she often frequented had added a new plum dipping sauce; the stray cat she liked had been fed until its coat was sleek and shiny.

Earlier videos had already expired, but Lin Wanxing still stared at the preview images for a long time.

Her originally complex feelings were completely soothed by these messages.

This was indeed a beautiful memory—life was warm and interesting, and the students could live and study independently. After looking for a while, she unconsciously thought that going to watch a match indeed seemed nice.

Lin Wanxing finally finished reading Lin Lu’s messages, exited the chat box, and clicked on Fu Xinshu’s profile picture.

Inside the car, there was the humming of the engine. The last message was:

Teacher, I don’t know what to do is right.

Outside, the sun was shining brightly, but inside the building, it suddenly darkened several degrees.

“Captain, please sign in.”

After the staff member spoke, Fu Xinshu lowered his head, signed his name on the form, and followed them into the stadium.

On the gray-white walls was painted a yellow dividing line, with polished concrete tiles and old-style incandescent light tubes.

As they walked through the long corridor, Fu Xinshu suddenly recalled the scenes he had seen as a child.

More than ten years ago, Yongchuan Hengda was a top team in the Chinese Super League. Back then, the football atmosphere was much better than now. When his father was alive, every week when Yongchuan Hengda played, he would bring him to watch punctually in front of the TV.

Therefore, before and after matches, he often could see the full view of Yongchuan Hengda Stadium through television cameras.

In his impression, this stadium was extremely large and majestic.

During each match, the stadium was packed with people, flags flying, battle songs thundering—a true place of dreams.

He once yearned for his family’s situation to improve, so he could hold his father’s hand and come here to watch a match.

Now, he had achieved it.

Although the form and method were completely different from what he had imagined as a child, he had indeed done it.

The team staff opened the door to the locker room.

Spotlights and hanging lamps lit up together, illuminating the entire space brightly.

The lights were dazzling; for a moment, Fu Xinshu seemed to see them celebrating victory collectively inside. It was almost identical to the scene in his memory of the 2010-11 season when Tiancheng Fangya Club defeated Yongchuan Hengda away and clinched the championship in a comeback.

Entering the locker room, the players’ mood, which had been ruined by Xiang Zi, gradually improved.

The room was filled with drinking water and food prepared by the organizers, and they excitedly moved around.

The staff left.

Everyone put down their backpacks, and pulled out the tactical board, preparing to eat something and have a pre-match tactical meeting.

After being busy for a while, Fu Xinshu suddenly realized someone was missing from the locker room.

“Where’s Wen Chengye?” He looked around and asked.

“No idea, he just dropped his stuff and disappeared.”

“I think he took his phone and went to the bathroom!” Yu Ming reported.

Fu Xinshu walked into the restroom, the door closing with a creak.

Wen Chengye was standing by the sink.

His phone was placed on the washbasin, facing a broken mirror as he stared blankly.

The ceiling light was glaring.

Fu Xinshu took a couple of steps and stood by the adjacent sink.

Wen Chengye had his hands in his pockets, still staring at the mirror.

The bathroom air wasn’t circulating; the smell of disinfectant and the drain was stagnant.

Fu Xinshu thought for a moment, then slowly began: “Whatever opinion you have of me, I hope you direct it at me. After the match ends, we can handle it however you want.”

The voice echoed, and Fu Xinshu suddenly remembered he had said similar words to Wen Chengye before.

That was before the match against Yuzhou Silver Elephant. He found Wen Chengye to “talk,” only to accidentally learn that Wen Chengye had heard those insults when he was beaten up.

It seemed that despite the passage of time, many things hadn’t changed.

Wen Chengye didn’t respond to him.

He slightly raised his chin, picked up his phone from the washbasin, and dialed a number.

Fu Xinshu closed his eyes.

Teacher:

I’m not sure if you will see this letter.

Perhaps knowing you probably won’t see it is why I dare to send it.

There’s something I’ve been lying about to all of you.

I told you that I had my leg broken by thugs chasing me because I was falsely accused of stealing a customer’s phone from a shop.

That was false.

I wasn’t falsely accused; I did steal that person’s phone.

But it wasn’t because I wanted to steal the phone for money, but because I wanted to delete the records inside.

Because there was evidence of my crime.

During my second year of high school, my mother fell ill from overwork. To earn money, I went to work at an underground bar.

A bar that would use child labor was not a clean place; that one ran an underground football betting operation.

Teacher, you know my family is very poor, but I never told you that my father was a gambling addict.

At first, I warned myself: don’t forget your father was a gambling addict, he died falling while being chased by debt collectors. Gambling is something you must never touch.

But every day in the bar, cash was counted in millions.

Gradually, watching people in the bar discuss how much they earned each day, I wavered.

I was too tired every day; we had to pay rent, and my mother was still sick. If I just guessed the correct score, the money in my hands could multiply several times. Not only could I pay the rent, but I could also buy supplements for my mother. What a good opportunity that was!

I couldn’t resist approaching an “agent” and placed bets on two matches I considered most reliable.

But I never thought that “agent” would recognize me.

He not only knew I played football but also knew I was Fu Yuanhang’s son.

When I heard him say to me, “Your father used to place bets with me. Uncle will help you get into a professional team, you help Uncle with the matches,” I suddenly became afraid.

I had seen the anti-match-fixing education notice.

I knew that if participating players were involved in betting activities, they would be disqualified from participating, fined, suspended, and would never be able to play in official matches again.

I begged him to withdraw my bet.

But he saw right through me, asking if I was “scared?”

I was indeed scared.

I knew they were afraid of police investigations, so all betting information was recorded on a phone. If I could get the phone without anyone knowing and delete the records, it would be fine.

But I was discovered by them.

They were afraid of making a big scene, so they didn’t dare beat me to death. In the end, the school just treated it as me stealing a phone; they paid compensation, and the matter was considered resolved. But on the day I was beaten, Wen Chengye was present; he knew the true reason I was beaten.

Others took me for a pitiful victim, but in front of Wen Chengye, I was a rat in the gutter.

When you brought Wen Chengye back to the team, I was very afraid. Afraid he would reveal what I had done, even having thoughts of losing the match to get it over with.

But he never said anything.

I suffered in his silence, only able to pretend nothing had happened.

It’s not that I never thought about confessing to you all.

But the qualifiers, group stage, quarter-finals, semi-finals, finals…

The whole process was like a dream, and the snowball of consequences grew larger and larger.

If I just spoke up, all efforts would be wasted, and this team would be ruined.

That night, Wen Chengye approached me.

Only then did I learn that, like me, he also had an unspeakable secret.

He kept my secret, and the person who kept his secret was you.

I don’t know why you did this; how could a teacher like you condone a student cheating? This is completely different from how I imagined you.

But I must admit, I was secretly pleased.

If you would cover for Wen Chengye, then if you knew about my situation, you would cover for me too, right?

And just now, Chen Weidong told us that on the day of the finals, he has a match and won’t come as our substitute.

I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Because I knew I finally had the most, most sufficient reason.

For the team’s victory, I can’t be suspended, so I absolutely cannot speak out.

Teacher, I don’t understand why things turned out this way.

A momentary lapse, I made such a small mistake, yet have to bear so many consequences I cannot shoulder?

Fortunately, this is a small matter that, as long as Wen Chengye and I don’t speak up, no one will know about.

I know Wen Chengye wavered; he wants to admit his cheating and accept the deserved punishment.

But fortunately, I am a gambler’s son.

For the greater benefit, I can bet my conscience.