Drenthe's breathing became rapid, and he glared at Chen Zhong, wishing he could bite him.
He trembled slightly, squeezed out the word "good" through clenched teeth, which meant that the conflict wrapped in the guise of "circle training" was now completely out in the open.
Players from other groups also noticed the dispute here; amidst the crowd, Chen Zhong and Drenthe stood face to face, like Western cowboys, making it hard for them to be unnoticed.
"What's happening here?"
A clean-shaven man whose stubble was still visible spoke up, smoothing his long hair as if he wanted to end this "farce" then and there.
Just as he was about to step forward, Raul stopped him, while Casillas nearby also tossed the ball aside and walked over.
"Rude, don't rush. It's nothing for young people to mess around a bit," Raul smiled at Ruud van Nistelrooy, "Look, aren't the coaches watching?"
Van Nistelrooy, the Dutchman, nicknamed the King of the Six-Yard Box, transferred to Real Madrid last season for 15 million euros, scoring 25 goals in 37 appearances, earning the La Liga top scorer award.
"You're right," Van Nistelrooy replied, but his gaze at Chen Zhong became even deeper, reminding him, despite the differences in height and build, of that annoying Portuguese.
The same "genius," similarly favored by the coach.
Casillas came to Raul's side. As a goalkeeper, his training differed from other players. After a brief exchange, he roughly understood the situation.
"Who do you think will win?"
"Regardless, he comes from Castilla."
After the brief exchange, they stopped talking. Although Chen Zhong wasn't Spanish, as a genius from Castilla, it warranted some preferential treatment from them.
Indeed, if he showcased enough talent, integrating him into the circle wasn't impossible.
Only those with the skills to stay at Real Madrid are worth knowing.
"What are you waiting for?" Chen Zhong looked at Drenthe with a smile, "Scared?"
Drenthe let out a low growl and rushed forward, trying to intercept the ball. Exclamations sounded around them, while Marcelo, as a left-back, though more adept at attacking, had a keen eye.
Short Drenthe had a significant advantage in starting speed, although his range of interception was small because of his short legs, his frequency and precision improved.
A trace of a smile appeared on Van Nistelrooy's face; after all, Drenthe, as a future hope for the national team, surely had skills. He had panicked for a moment.
Everyone had their thoughts, but as the protagonist, Chen Zhong remained calm.
Chen Zhong turned sideways, bent his knees, lowered his center of gravity, inserted himself between Drenthe and the ball, instantly transforming Drenthe's charging downhill tiger into a little cat, "Meow meow meow!"
Drenthe was a bit anxious and directly reached out to grab Chen Zhong.
Chen Zhong chuckled lightly and also began to push Drenthe. In a match, if both sides made hand movements, the referee generally wouldn't call a foul. He wanted to leave Drenthe with no excuses for losing.
Once they began exchanging hand movements, Drenthe's chances of getting the ball dropped even further.
The whole scene looked like an adult teasing a child.
Chen Zhong felt Drenthe's position with his hands and even had the leisure to exchange glances with Marcelo.
At this point, Drenthe's face was flushed; he even contemplated a sweep kick, going for a dirty play.
But he dared not; he'd struggled so hard to make it to Real Madrid, and now, under everyone's gaze, in such a fair one-on-one duel, if he played foul, he'd be finished.
After all, he maintained some rationality.
Laughing voices surrounded them, while amidst laughter, some engaged in rational discussion.
Like Schuster and Francisco, they noticed Chen Zhong used the back-to-goal technique, important for defensive midfielders and center forwards.
A center forward or defensive midfielder without back-to-goal technique not only attacks poorly but is also prone to interceptions and counter-attacks; they're curious about Chen Zhong's proficiency in turning and shooting with the back-to-goal technique.
"It's getting uninteresting," Schuster, after watching the adept Chen Zhong for a while, suddenly turned to Francisco, "Let's have a practice match!"
"Huh?" Francisco, a bit dumbfounded, looked at Schuster, "Now? But..."
"Who's the coach, you or me!" Schuster waved his hand, cutting off Francisco's words. After a period of holiday, many players weren't in good shape, while the training camp was aimed at building stamina and finding form for the season.
Recovery training before the training camp is a "warm-up" for players before the camp, to avoid sudden high-intensity training that they can't handle and eventually leading to unnecessary injuries, even affecting the completion of training plans.
Chen Zhong and Drenthe were still in a standoff, just as Drenthe's anger gradually dissipated and he was inwardly praying to God to save him, Francisco's voice came through.
"What are you guys doing?"
"I'm asking you to train, not mess around."
"Alright then! Since everyone is so energetic, let's have a training match."
Francisco unilaterally decided on having a training match, and then began to read out the group allocations.
Upon hearing Francisco's words, Drenthe decisively separated from Chen Zhong and hid within the crowd, his small stature helping him stay hidden.
Chen Zhong, for his part, didn't continue pursuing; after competing with Drenthe, he gained a clearer understanding of his own capabilities.
His whole demeanor seemed much brighter.
Van Nistelrooy glanced gloomily at Chen Zhong. Although Chen Zhong would most likely be placed on the opposing side, Van Nistelrooy couldn't help but look forward to it, look forward to it!
He was eager to personally teach the young man what it means to respect one's elders.
He didn't know why he disliked Chen Zhong, but in Real Madrid, there couldn't be a man more "dashing" than he was. So arrogant already, it seemed he hadn't encountered a true powerhouse.
Perhaps Van Nistelrooy was a self-centered person!
During his time at Manchester United, he hoped to be the most dazzling player on the team, with everyone serving him and becoming his "accessories." In subsequent interviews, it was said, "Rude is extremely self-centered; he expects his teammates to pass the ball to him."
But, is that wrong?
The strong deserve the best.
Francisco quickly finished reading the list; Van Nistelrooy was in Team A, Chen Zhong in Team B, with Van Nistelrooy as the center forward and Chen Zhong as a center-back.
It's worth noting that the left full-back for Team B wasn't Marcelo but Drenthe.
This shows that in Schuster's mind, Drenthe is currently ranked above Marcelo.
Before the training match officially began, there was a small ceremony where both teams shook hands to show goodwill. Francisco thought it was unnecessary, but Schuster felt it was a good opportunity to deepen mutual impressions.
"Do you really take me for a fool?" Francisco mumbled: "You clearly want to see Rude and Chen."
Insiders are confused, outsiders are clear; they had long noticed something was off in the way Van Nistelrooy looked at Chen Zhong. By logic, a player of his caliber wouldn't pay attention to such a young newcomer.
They are like ephemerals and meteors, with no recognition and no reason for targeting until they show sufficient capability.
"Arrogant youngster." Van Nistelrooy firmly gripped Chen Zhong's hand and spoke: "I haven't seen one in a while."
Van Nistelrooy looked at Chen Zhong, trying to find fear, avoidance, and insecurity in his eyes, but ultimately he saw unexpectedly cold detachment.
Feeling the strength in his hand, Chen Zhong looked up at Van Nistelrooy. Although he didn't know why the Dutch center forward was targeting him, in his years in Europe he had learned one principle.
That is, when faced with provocation, you must fight back. Abroad, it's not that humility and politeness aren't valued, but they are reserved for the strong. If you're timid, self-abased, and meek, you'll be subjected to malice, teasing, and bullying.
"How did the last one end up?" Chen Zhong reversed his grip on Van Nistelrooy's hand, which was trying to pull away, and continued: "I heard he got selected as UEFA Team of the Year right midfielder, FIFA Best Midfielder of the Year, Premier League Best Player and Best Rookie, and whatever annual best, association best..."
Chen Zhong rambled on while Van Nistelrooy forcefully withdrew his hand, glancing at the redness of his palm with his peripheral vision.
For some reason, he recalled that crybaby who seemed just a kid, a wimp at the time, but eventually found that he was driven by hidden ambition and competitive spirit, constantly chasing after him.
He couldn't bear that a former weakling was catching up to him in status, fame, and capability, possibly even surpassing him—perhaps out of envy, perhaps insecurity, perhaps fear...
But...
How could you compare to him?
"See you on the field." Van Nistelrooy said to Chen Zhong, "I'm going to score against you."
By then, the surrounding teammates had largely moved away, and hearing Van Nistelrooy's words, Chen Zhong showed no fear and responded: "I'm looking forward to it."