It wasn't just the neighbors who had started looking at Zhang Han differently.
Since the magazine interview, even the atmosphere at ho had subtly changed. People spoke to him more carefully, asked more questions, and paid closer attention to his schedule.
That evening at dinner, Lan He kept glancing at him, clearly wanting to say sothing. Zhang Han noticed it but pretended not to care, calmly finishing his al.
After dinner, Lan He hesitated for a mont before finally speaking.
"Xiao Han, did you know?" she said. "People from the neighborhood pooled together and bought several copies of that baseball magazine."
Zhang Han paused. "Why?"
"They want your autograph," Lan He replied, half amused and half helpless. "They said it's better to get it early, before you beco too busy."
Zhang Han was montarily speechless.
He hadn't expected sothing like this to happen so quickly. Lan He went to the cabinet and brought out a box, placing it on the table. Inside were more than a dozen magazines.
All of them were the latest issues of Baseball Kingdom. On the cover was Zhang Han himself, captured mid-swing.
Watching gas live, most spectators could only make out jersey numbers from a distance. Magazines were different—clear photos, close-ups, every detail laid bare.
"Where did they get the money for all this?" Zhang Han frowned. "That many copies aren't cheap."
"They chipped in together," Lan He said. "So of them even argued over who would get the signed one."
Zhang Han sighed.
"So that's why they suddenly beca so enthusiastic."
Lan He smiled. "At least it's harmless. They're just curious. You don't need to overthink it."
Zhang Han nodded but still felt a vague sense of discomfort.
The attention ca too fast.
After putting the magazines back, Zhang Han checked the ti. There was still so room before curfew.
"I'm heading out for a bit," he said.
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"Don't stay too late," Lan He reminded him.
Zhang Han left the house and headed for Matsukata Senior League.
Ono Binchi had called him several tis recently, worried about his situation. Zhang Han planned to talk to him properly in person. Only after arriving did he learn that Matsukata Senior League's sumr campaign had already ended.
They had lost to Turtle Maru Senior League in the semifinals, missing the national tournant. Last year's national runner-up hadn't even made it out of the regional stage this ti.
Presumably, Ono Binchi hadn't had it easy either. After all, he was just the Director. There was still the owner above him.
But when Zhang Han finally saw Ono Binchi, he realized his worries were unnecessary.
Ono Binchi looked energetic and in great spirits.
As the third-year middle school players gradually retired, he was already preparing a new lineup, while also helping the graduating players find their next teams.
"Lost the ga and you're still this happy?" Zhang Han joked. "If Mr. Matsukata saw you, he'd probably explode."
"What can I do?" Ono Binchi laughed. "All the talent was concentrated in your year. Once you retired, a rebuilding phase was inevitable. Luckily, you kids are doing well in high school. Parents still trust us. Quite a few students have already contacted us about joining."
"Then congratulations. May the enrollnt fees flow like water."
"Getting rich is the owner's business," Ono Binchi waved it off. "What does that have to do with ?"
"That's the wrong mindset. More students should an a bigger bonus."
"My bonus only increases if results improve!"
The familiar banter eased Zhang Han's mood.
This place always made him feel relaxed.
"Enough about ," Ono Binchi said. "How are you holding up? You're about to face Ichidai Third High School, right?"
"Tomorrow," Zhang Han replied. "Tonight's just final adjustnts. Everyone already knows who's playing."
Facing their biggest rival, both teams had been pushed to the limit.
There was no room for hesitation anymore.
"Director!"
The door suddenly burst open.
Zhang Han turned and saw two extrely familiar figures.
"Hoshida. Miyakawa. You're here."
They had co to visit Ono Binchi as well.
Ono Binchi's tactical ability might not have matched top high school directors like Takashima Rei of Seido or Tahara of Ichidai.
But his people skills were exceptional.
He genuinely cared about his players and was willing to help them even after they left.
Sincerity invited sincerity in return.
It was only natural that his popularity was high.
Not only did Zhang Han regard him as both a teacher and a friend, but Hoshida, Miyakawa, and Ono Hiroshi felt the sa.
For a brief mont, ti seed to freeze.
Tomorrow, the two teams would clash in a match watched by all of Tokyo.
And yet here they were—core players from both sides, eting in a neutral place.
Forr comrades.
The once-feared Golden Batting Lineup.
"Zhang-san!"
"Zhang-san!"
Hoshida and Miyakawa greeted him first.
Though they were the sa age, Zhang Han had entered Matsukata Senior League's First-string much earlier. Out of habit, they still used honorifics.
Zhang Han felt a surge of emotion.
He had many things he wanted to say. But when he opened his mouth, nothing ca out.
Perhaps this was what being truly at a loss for words felt like.
Still, staying silent would be rude—and worse, cowardly.
Seido, represented by him, could never accept that.
Neither could Zhang Han himself.
"Hey," he said with a faint smile. "Long ti no see."
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