A short sentence, filled with utter desolation.
He had personally built Liverpool's modern youth academy into a kingdom, forging generation after generation of Reds legends, only to become a sacrifice under the club's new system.
Watching promising young talent go to waste, watching the football philosophy he had upheld his whole life be completely overturned.
He was physically and mentally exhausted, and could no longer go on.
Before he came to Kirkby, Liverpool's Boot Room culture was essentially an internal promotion system: coaches were promoted from within, players were chosen from the local area, and everything relied on connections and experience.
But by the late 1980s, the club's results were declining, and the new owners realized the family-business model could no longer meet the demands of modern football.
So they brought Heighway back and gave him considerable freedom to build an independent youth academy at Kirkby.
Heighway's youth philosophy was clear, and it was also Liverpool's traditional philosophy: cultivate local talent, give them technical freedom, let them grow up in the academy like little Liverpudlians, naturally mature by sixteen to eighteen, and then be taken over by the first team.
He had also proven that this worked: Fowler, McManaman, Owen, Gerrard, Carragher, Matteo, Thompson—all were products of his system.
But this approach did not get along well with Liverpool's manager.
Before Benitez.
Heighway and Houllier already had some conflicts.
Houllier was a coach of the French system, emphasizing fitness, tactical discipline, scientific medical management, and other modern football thinking.
But he at least preserved some of the youth philosophy left behind by the Boot Room, and the two maintained at least a tacit understanding of minding their own business:
Houllier did not interfere in Kirkby's daily affairs, and Heighway did not touch the final decision-making power on first-team selections.
But this agreement was itself fragile, because the authority of both sides had never been formally demarcated.
One thing made this very clear.
Ricky Lambert was one of the children abandoned by Liverpool's youth academy back then. It wasn't that Heighway didn't want to keep him; the first-team side simply had no use for him. With no formal contract, he bounced around lower-league football, and even had to work at a cannery to make a living.
But Ricky had already proven his talent last season at Rochdale; as a striker, he scored twenty-two goals for the entire season!
He was certainly firing on all cylinders.
This also became a thorn in Heighway's side: these promising youngsters couldn't get a chance in their own club.
But after Benitez arrived, even that tacit understanding with Houllier was gone.
The conflict between the first team and Kirkby grew increasingly fierce!
Benitez was not from the British system; he did not believe in the logic of raising children and waiting for them to mature naturally. He thought this system was extremely corrupt.
Even though Ferguson had used this approach to tear through the Premier League, he still did not approve.
Benitez's mindset was: I want a controllable system, from signings to tactics to youth selection, everything must run according to my standards, with no gray areas.
So,
Benitez and Heighway's first meeting declared that there was an irreparable rift between them.
After taking office, Benitez went to meet with Heighway, asking the core question: "In the youth academy now, who is ready to move up to the first team?"
Heighway's answer was: "Give me time. The best few—so-and-so—still need more honing, but the direction is right."
But what Benitez wanted was not a right direction; he wanted a list of players who could be used right now.
So,
After hearing that more time was needed, he completely lost faith in Heighway's system.
Afterward, their conversations sharply decreased.
Liverpool now simply would not promote youth academy players from Kirkby; that was also why David told Du An there was no chance at Liverpool.
These things were no secret within Liverpool.
Kenny looked at him, full of regret, but powerless to change the status quo.
Since leaving his position at Celtic, he had been idling at home, with no ability to make decisions on such matters.
Anyone could see that Kirkby was no longer fertile soil for nurturing hope.
It was merely a football island completely forgotten by the first team.
Soon,
Heighway smiled. "But don't worry. As long as I'm here, this kid Du An will definitely get the best training resources."
Kenny nodded. The two tacitly stopped mentioning these troublesome matters. "I'll take them to school now. See you."
"See you."
Walking out of the office building at the Kirkby base, the rain had stopped, but morning mist had risen again.
This was Liverpool's weather.
Year-round, it was overcast and rainy, with little sunshine.
Kenny took Du An and Ethan in the car, heading straight for Bishop John Catholic School.
Kenny said by way of reminder,
"I'll go to the school office later to finalize Du An's transfer paperwork. Since you start training tomorrow, you're officially joining the Liverpool youth academy—throw yourself wholeheartedly into training at Kirkby."
After saying that,
he turned to Ethan beside him. "You're different. Focus on your studies. You love football, but you don't have the talent to play professionally. Football can be a hobby, not a way out. Buckle down and finish your schooling."
Ethan nodded obediently.
The car stopped at the school gate, and the two walked into the familiar campus.
Class was especially dull for Du An today.
He sat at his desk, staring blankly, not absorbing a word the teacher said.
In his mind, one thing repeated over and over.
Tomorrow,
he would officially step onto the pitch and begin his football career.
The dull class time was endlessly stretched.
Finally,
he endured until the dismissal bell rang.
The school was bustling with people; students in pairs and threes made plans for after school.
Du An packed his books and stood to leave.
No one said goodbye, no one tried to keep him.
He had never had real friends at this school, at most passing acquaintances who occasionally spoke to him.
That he had managed to finish these years of schooling in peace, without being bullied at will, was something he had won punch by punch.
Leaving the school gate, he met up with Ethan and they went to the hospital.
The ward was still quiet, instruments beeping regularly. Grandma Mason lay quietly in the hospital bed, eyes closed, still in a coma.
No signs of waking.
Before leaving,
Du An stood quietly by the bedside, gazing at his grandmother's aged face, and after a long while said:
"Grandma, I'm sorry."
"I'm going to play football tomorrow. Don't blame me."
After saying that, Du An left with Ethan.
On the hospital bed, Grandma Mason's withered fingers twitched imperceptibly beneath the covers, so slight that no one noticed.
The night passed in an instant.
The next day, just as dawn was breaking.
Liverpool's morning was still full of mist, hazily enveloping the whole city.
Du An stuffed the football boots David had given him into his backpack.
He pushed open the front door and plunged headlong into the thick morning mist, running all the way toward the Kirkby Youth Academy.
Chapter 11