Lin Wanxing stood up, walked to the classroom door, and turned off the light.
She dashed to the convenience store downstairs, not bothering to decide what she wanted, and bought every snack that looked appealing.
Finally, carrying a large bag of goods, she hurried back upstairs and pushed open the iron door to the rooftop, panting heavily.
The starry night hung low.
The bowls had been washed, the grill moved to a corner, and the once messy rooftop was now tidy.
Traces of life had been diligently erased, but the extra dining table, sun umbrella, lounge chairs, haphazard bricks, and an old tire hauled from who-knows-where all spoke of the lively scenes that had once unfolded here.
Wang Fa emerged from the room, pulling a black suitcase.
The air carried the scent of charcoal, the city’s night sky glowed with a deep blue hue, and the Minnie balloon she had given Wang Fa swayed in the wind above the railing.
“Want a drink?” Lin Wanxing asked Wang Fa, holding up the heavy plastic bag.
“The car is already here,” Wang Fa replied.
Ignoring him, Lin Wanxing walked over to the outdoor table on her own. She began unpacking the items she had just bought from the convenience store, one by one.
Chips, shrimp crackers, dried tofu, milk, beer…
The table was soon covered with an assortment of snacks. With a sharp crack, Lin Wanxing opened a can of beer and gulped down half of it in one go.
She let out a burp just as Wang Fa walked past her, dragging his suitcase.
“You’re just too clever,” Lin Wanxing said, slightly tipsy and speaking bluntly. “People lose the courage to speak up most easily when money is involved. You picked the perfect excuse to shut us up and avoid any farewells.”
His departing footsteps didn’t pause, and the sound of the suitcase wheels rolling over the concrete felt as though they were grinding heavily over Lin Wanxing’s heart.
“You’re not leaving us—you’re leaving that field, aren’t you?” she asked softly.
The rooftop iron door swung open, and behind it, the field sank into a long night. Holding her beer can, Lin Wanxing said, “Let’s talk.”
There was no response.
It was as if an invisible hand had stretched time infinitely, slowing even the second hand on a clock to a crawl.
Suddenly, the iron door slammed shut, and time and space resumed their flow.
Footsteps and the sound of rolling wheels echoed once more. Lin Wanxing heard all the noises that should have faded away reverberating again in the rooftop night.
She took a sip of beer and turned around.
The young man took off his baseball cap and sat down decisively across from her.
His brow was prominent, and in the darkness, his gaze seemed profound. “Has the news been announced already?”
This version of Wang Fa was unlike any she had seen before. The night cast a shadow over him, like a rugged, stern cliff standing eternally by the midnight sea.
Lin Wanxing lined up all the drinks she had bought on the table for Wang Fa to choose from.
Red Coca-Cola, yellow beer, orange Mirinda…
Wang Fa didn’t move, showing no interest in sharing a final drink with her.
Lin Wanxing asked, “Why was Director Liu the one to take over in the end?”
“Director Liu is very familiar with Yongchuan Evergrande. He’s a suitable choice for head coach.”
“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” Lin Wanxing tapped her fingers lightly on the drinks, selected a can of Sprite, and pushed it toward him. “What I want to know is, what about you?”
“What do you want me to say?”
Wang Fa ignored the Sprite she had recommended and opened a can of Yongchuan Pure Draft himself. His voice was straightforward and cold, echoing the sharp crack of the beer can opening.Lin Wanxing: "Yongchuan Evergrande did approach you, didn't they? You claim 150 million euros is an irresistible sum, but in reality, you don't care about the money at all. So Director Liu had to step in himself—is that what happened?"
The young man tilted his head back and took a sip of beer, revealing a sharp jawline and a pale, slender neck. "You're right."
"About what?"
"I am wealthy, so 150 million doesn't matter to me," he said, setting down the beer can.
Lin Wanxing was taken aback. "If you're so rich, why are you here freeloading and tricking me?"
"Being wealthy means I can do as I please. If I find something uninteresting, I can just walk away," Wang Fa replied.
His words were cold.
Moisture in the air condensed on the chilled can, dripping down Lin Wanxing's fingers. She gazed at the young man's stern face in the night and said, "Wang Fa, if I were you, I wouldn't bother sitting down to explain."
Wang Fa paused briefly but remained silent.
"Deep down, you're more responsible than I am. You feel guilty about abandoning us, so you're making excuses to ease our minds," Lin Wanxing continued. "You don't need to do that. We both know the issue isn't about money, and you're not the person you claim to be."
"That sounds a bit sentimental, Teacher Lin. You're overdoing it," Wang Fa said lightly, taking another sip of beer.
"Wang Fa, don't try to shut me up. I know you're determined to cut off any chance of changing your mind because the students and I are indeed swaying you. But it's not us you're leaving—it's that stadium ahead. I just want to know why."
Lin Wanxing asked each word with unprecedented calm.
Wang Fa didn't answer immediately.
The night wind swept across the rooftop, causing the pink balloons tied to the railing to flutter noisily.
He didn't even take a sip of beer or light a cigarette. All the long struggles seemed to condense into a simple, ordinary statement.
"I am indeed leaving the stadium," he said.
Lin Wanxing abruptly looked up, her fingers pressing against the beer can as she struggled to remain composed.
"Why?" she asked.
The young man stared into the distance at the stadium, where only faint starlight and moonlight pierced the darkness.
"Is it because of that stadium violence incident?" Lin Wanxing asked bluntly after a moment's thought.
"So you finally looked into me?" Wang Fa seemed momentarily surprised but quickly regained his composure.
Lin Wanxing shook her head. "Someone left a message for me on the blackboard downstairs and sent me two emails," she said honestly. "One was an internal appointment email from Yongchuan Evergrande Club, appointing Liu Chuangguang as head coach of the first team. The other contained a video—a news report from the UK."
As she spoke, she took out her phone, placed it on the table, and turned it toward Wang Fa.
Wang Fa didn't open the video. He merely glanced at the thumbnail and knew what it was.
After a moment's hesitation, Lin Wanxing gently swiped her finger across the screen and pressed play, despite the cruelty of it.
The phone screen lit up abruptly, and muffled, excited background noise erupted, sounding particularly jarring and heavy in the silent night.Wang Fa sat across the dining table, and Lin Wanxing observed his expression. "After going through something like this, you must have sought professional help—I mean a psychologist. But your issues haven't been resolved, right?"
Wang Fa's demeanor remained unchanged; neither the phone footage of the brawl nor all the abusive shouts from the rooftop had any effect on him.
He simply sat quietly until the camera panned over the distorted faces of the fans in the stands, the final image of a soccer shoe grinding across the screen, the news broadcast ended, and the screen went dark.
After a while, Wang Fa slowly spoke, "I believe now that you are professional."
"Did you return from England because of this incident? Did the football team think it was your fault and hold you responsible?" Lin Wanxing asked.
"Don't worry, the team wouldn't fire me over something like this," Wang Fa said, gripping a soda can, his expression cold.
"So, you left Southampton voluntarily? Why?" Lin Wanxing still found it hard to believe. "I heard from students that it's difficult to be a coach in England, so I looked it up. Germany issues about four thousand ordinary coaching certificates every year, while Spain and Italy issue over three thousand. In England, there are only six. Just getting a coaching certificate in England is incredibly hard, and becoming the head coach of a professional team is even more difficult. Why would you give it up?"
"My position at Southampton was Deputy Head of Youth Training and U21 Head Coach. Do you know what that means?" Wang Fa countered.
Lin Wanxing shook her head.
"It means I've spent a very, very long time in this field."
Sitting across from her, Wang Fa spoke slowly, recounting a life Lin Wanxing had never imagined.
"English football clubs have a long history and are relatively closed-off. They don't place much importance on the coaching certificates you mentioned; what they care about is being 'one of their own.' I joined the Milton Keynes Youth Team at 14 but soon realized my interest wasn't in becoming a player. So, I started working as a handyman at Southampton. Every day, I cleaned the pitch and tidied the locker rooms—all unpaid work. Later, the child of one of the youth training coaches was learning Chinese, and I seized the opportunity to become the coach's child's Chinese tutor. After getting familiar with him, I was recommended for the lowest-level position as an assistant coach for the youth team. I worked my way up until I became the head coach of the U17 team, and my team won the FA Youth Cup. Finally, I was able to secure the position of Deputy Head of Youth Training at Southampton. I'm 29 now, and since I was 14, I've spent over half my life on this."
Throughout his account, Wang Fa maintained an even tone, whether recalling his time as a handyman or his championship victory—there was no distinction in his memories.
Lin Wanxing thought that after so many intensive psychotherapy sessions and conversations, he must have recalled and recounted this experience countless times, confirming that there was nothing left to cling to, which was why his tone was so calm.
"But you feel you took the wrong path? That all that time and effort were wasted?" Lin Wanxing couldn't understand. "What went wrong? What exactly happened that day in the news?"
"What happened that day is exactly what you saw," Wang Fa said.
"A conflict on the pitch, and a player died unexpectedly?"
"Yes."
"Do you blame yourself?"
"No, I'm terrified," Wang Fa said.
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