Premier League

Du An was not particularly surprised by Heighway's arrangement for him to formally join U16 team training. He had anticipated it. Heighway had mentioned to him earlier that as long as his fundamentals met the required standard, he would be formally integrated into the youth team; it was only a matter of time. Yet even Du An knew that this pace was unfathomably fast. From stepping into Kirkby as a complete beginner to qualifying for U16 squad sessions, it had taken him less than half a month from start to finish. Across the entire Liverpool youth academy system, such growth was nothing short of absurd. During this time, Du An had also taken the initiative to study the complete English youth football setup and get a clear picture of how things worked at Kirkby. To turn professional, after all, one had to truly understand the sport. At present, England's mainstream youth competition system was primarily divided into three categories: the Premier Reserve League, the Premier Academy League, and the Football Combination. The U16 age group had no official national league. Daily match experience mostly came from friendlies privately arranged between Liverpool and nearby regional sides or closely affiliated professional clubs. Their sole purpose was to observe the young players' match sharpness and spot promising prospects. Those who showed genuine ability and were viewed with high regard by the club would be promoted ahead of their age group to the U18 squad to compete in national, official tournaments. The highest-level, most prestigious youth competition in all of England was the U18 league—the Premier Academy League. It was the stage where English academy players proved themselves. Beyond that, the U18 squad could also compete in the FA Youth Cup, a heavyweight tournament that spanned the entire youth academy system of English professional clubs. His roommate Connor had been called up to the U18 squad on the back of outstanding performances, making the matchday squads in both competitions, even if he had yet to make an official appearance on the pitch. Speaking of the FA Youth Cup, Liverpool U18 had just lifted the trophy the previous season—one of the crowning achievements of Heighway's youth management. Stepping up to the U16s now gave Du An even greater confidence. He was acutely aware of his situation. Right now, all he had signed was an apprenticeship contract with a weekly wage of £110. While it was enough to live on, paying back Dalglish and Marina required earning a professional contract! Only by truly establishing himself in the U16 squad and putting on eye-catching displays would he have the leverage to push for a formal professional contract. Once he secured a professional deal, his annual salary would soar past ten thousand pounds. Even among adult working locals in Liverpool, that was a handsome income. Not only could he repay his debts, but he could also improve the strained living conditions he and Ethan currently endured. Opportunity was right in front of him! Du An looked at Heighway and said with utmost sincerity, "I'm ready, Boss. Thank you." Heighway looked back at him with a warm smile. "Don't thank me. You've earned every bit of this through your own talent and hard work." "I've seen the effort you've put in during these past weeks." "And of course, the talent you've shown has been a wonderful surprise." He patted Du An on the shoulder, voicing what was perhaps the football world's only golden rule: "In football, ability always does the talking. Your performance on the pitch is everything." "I'm looking forward to your growth and what you show me next." Du An nodded vigorously. Then, as if remembering something, Heighway reached into his pocket, pulled out two beautifully printed match tickets, and pressed them into Du An's hand. "Tomorrow afternoon, the first team has a home match at Anfield. I happen to have two tickets here. Take Ethan along, watch the game, and get a real feel for the atmosphere at Anfield." He added with a smile, "I believe that one day, you will stand on that pitch for real." Du An froze, staring at the tickets. With his current income and family situation, attending a match in person was an impossible luxury. These tickets were priceless to him. He looked down at them, where the fixture was clearly printed: Liverpool vs. Tottenham Hotspur at home. Having feverishly crammed football knowledge over the past two weeks, he was well aware of Tottenham Hotspur. Spurs were an established traditional powerhouse of the Premier League, boasting many formidable stars throughout their history. Yet their fortunes had fluctuated over the years, leaving them perpetually short of major silverware—hardly comparable to a Liverpool steeped in tradition and laden with countless honours. Looking at the club crests, the stadium name, and the seat details on the tickets, Du An recalled Heighway's words. *One day, you will stand on that pitch for real...* *** Friday evening at the Kirkby dormitory was lively and clamorous. Players excitedly shouted over what they planned to do over the weekend—dates, watching matches, travelling... After a week of closed-off training, they needed time to let loose. Du An packed his backpack. Beside him, Connor grumbled with utter regret and disappointment: "It's ridiculous. You can't get home tickets for Liverpool at all. The second they go on sale, they're gone. Anfield tickets are always insane—impossible to buy, and season tickets are out of reach, too. Sigh." Living together day and night for the past fortnight had forged a good bond between them. Hearing this, Du An remarked, "This is Liverpool, after all." He refrained from flaunting the two tickets Heighway had given him. Instead, he merely mentioned, "Next week, I'm joining team training." "What?!" Connor snapped his head toward Du An, eyes wide with delight. "Really? That's amazing! I've been waiting to play with you on the pitch. Man, your talent makes me so jealous." "All right, get some good rest this weekend. See you next week," Du An said with a smile, waving goodbye. "Yeah, see you next week!" Du An left Kirkby and ran all the way home, just as he always did. By the time he arrived, Ethan was already waiting. Ever since Du An entered the Kirkby academy, Dalglish had arranged a host family for Ethan—the Andersons. The couple were die-hard, born-and-bred Liverpool supporters. Upon hearing the two boys' background—how tragedy after tragedy had struck the Mason family, leaving two children all alone in the world—they had taken Ethan in without hesitation, even offering to host Du An on weekends as well. So on weekdays, apart from going to school, Ethan stayed with the host family, returning home on weekends to wait for Du An. The moment he saw Du An walk through the door, Ethan began chattering away. "What did you train this week, Du An? Still ball-control drills like last week? Did you get to play in any matches? Do any Liverpool first-team players ever drop by Kirkby? Can you get Gerrard's autograph...?" A barrage of questions poured out. The path Du An was walking was the professional football dream Ethan yearned for, yet could never touch. Far from being annoyed, Du An patiently answered each of them. Ethan listened to Du An describe the daily training at Kirkby, hanging on every word and immersing himself completely in the details. It was as though he were standing on that training pitch himself, running and training side by side with Du An. When he heard that Du An would officially join the U16 squad next week, Ethan's eyes lit up instantly. "That's fantastic, Du An! That means you'll be playing in real matches soon! Actual professional academy games, nothing like those chaotic street football games we used to play on the community pitch!" Seeing his excitement, Du An gave a gentle nod. Then, he reached into his pocket and held out the tickets. "Hold on. Tomorrow, we're going to watch a Premier League match first." Ethan's pupils widened dramatically at the sight of the tickets. A split second later, a shriek rang through the entire house—loud enough for the neighbours to hear. "Oh my God!!" He scrambled to take the tickets, his fingers trembling as he scrutinized the stadium name and the fixture line by line, as if holding a sacred treasure. "Anfield! Liverpool at home! We're going to Anfield, Du An!" he stammered, overwhelmed with emotion. The boy's voice carried an uncontrollable fever pitch, laced with a faint tremor of tears. "Du An, going to Anfield has always been my dream!" "Before, Grandma refused to let us anywhere near football. She wouldn't even let us get close to a stadium. All I could do was scour every sports newspaper, stare at the reports about Anfield, and read every single word over and over again. The stands, the singing, the grass, the match atmosphere described in the papers—every single word would keep me up excited all night!" For so many years, he had only been able to imagine the grandeur of Anfield and the fiery devotion of the Reds supporters through the cold print of newspapers. He had thought that experiencing it all in person was a distant, unreachable fantasy. Never could he have imagined that today, the dream would truly become reality! Unable to hold his emotions back any longer, Ethan threw his arms around Du An, clutching him tightly as his whole body shook. "Thank you, Du An! Thank you so, so much!" "God, I feel like my blood is on fire! I'm going to Anfield, I'm going to see that pitch with my own eyes, and I'm going to hear tens of thousands of people singing 'You'll Never Walk Alone' together!" "I'm too excited, Du An, I really can't handle it! What do I do?!" "God! I can't even imagine what it'll be like if one day I see you playing at Anfield—I think I'd pass out! Oh God, I just can't stop shaking!" Looking at his brother's flustered, ecstatic state, Du An smiled softly without saying a word. He knew that right now, what Ethan needed was a listener. Someone to listen to the rush of heat coursing through his veins, to listen to his boundless longing for Anfield. In truth, everything Du An knew about football, about fans, and about that pure, unfiltered passion had come entirely from Ethan. This was his brother—neither father nor mother in common, yet his true brother nonetheless—the boy who had opened his eyes to the blazing wonder of football.