Cavagale was one of Spain’s top soccer agents. He represented a stable of players, including nas like Raul, but Redondo was the one he valued most.
’He’s only thirty-one. He’s still got years left to play.’
Before Chen Yu could answer, Redondo cut in. "Chen, you don’t have to listen to Jinnis. Whatever the verdict is, you can tell directly. I know what my situation is."
At thirty-one, suffering a major injury like a torn cruciate ligant... he knew all too well what that ant.
Chen Yu paused for a second. ’Well, you’re certainly self-aware,’ he thought.
’But judging by his tone, is he thinking of giving up?’
’It made sense. A torn cruciate ligant. So many players had been tornted by that one small ligant, only to retire in disappointnt. And that was even truer for a veteran like Redondo, who was already past thirty.’
Chen Yu glanced from Redondo to Tawana.
Tawana’s pleading, expectant gaze moved him. The old man had truly seen too much of this, which was why he didn’t want to see it happen again.
’And thinking about it now, his talk about the World Cup probably wasn’t just a casual tangent. It was likely intentional.’
’What a headache.’
Chen Yu rubbed his temples. ’This old man sure knows how to make things difficult.’
But in that mont, Chen Yu made a decision.
"You’re about to turn thirty-two, aren’t you?" Chen Yu began.
Born June 6, 1969. In a few months, he’d be thirty-two.
Redondo froze for a second, then nodded instinctively.
Chen Yu continued, "Then you should know that a soccer player’s pri is usually between the ages of twenty-four and thirty."
Redondo frowned, unsure of where Chen Yu was going with this.
"And you’re about to be thirty-two." Chen Yu set down the film. "At this age, to suffer a major injury like a torn cruciate ligant... and from what I’ve seen, you also have patellar tendinitis, cartilage erosion, and varying degrees of damage to your collateral ligant and niscus."
"In other words, your knee is a ss."
Redondo fell silent, biting his lip. He said stubbornly, "So what you’re saying is, since I’m about to be thirty-two, I might as well not bother with treatnt and just retire."
Chen Yu nodded. "That is one option."
Cavagale’s expression changed dramatically.
Beside them, Tawana was anxiously trying to catch Chen Yu’s eye. He had said so much precisely because he wanted Chen Yu to convince Redondo *not* to give up. And now here he was, telling him to retire?
"Logically, for a case like yours, even if we manage to patch you up, your athletic ability would decline significantly. Then you’d suffer recurring injuries in the sa spot, and after all that tornt, you’d have to retire within a few years anyway."
Forget being almost thirty-two; even for a twenty-three-year-old, a decline in athletic ability after such a major injury is inevitable.
"But you t . I healed Ronnie, and I can heal you. I’m talking about a full recovery." Chen Yu’s face was filled with confidence. ’It all ca back to the sa thought: as troubleso as this torn cruciate ligant was, could it be worse than Ronaldo’s ruptured patellar tendon?’
Cavagale let out a long sigh of relief and gave Chen Yu a speechless look. ’Why does he have to be so dramatic?’
A bright light flared in Redondo’s eyes.
He had seen so many doctors recently, but all of them had told him the sa thing: "There’s nothing we can do. Your case is extrely difficult."
Not a single doctor had ever told him with such confidence, "I can heal you. A full recovery."
"However, I have one condition." Chen Yu held up a single finger. "I want you to play in the World Cup next year."
’My psychology skills are half-baked at best,’ Chen Yu thought. ’Trying to persuade this stubborn old mule—a man who defied the dia, refused to cut his hair, quit the World Cup, and is now thirty-one—is asking a bit much of myself.’
’Might as well be direct. Tell him straight up: no World Cup, no treatnt.’
The other three n in the room were all stunned.
Especially Redondo. He stared blankly at Chen Yu for a long mont, his expression shifting from surprise to rage.
He shot up on his good leg, steadying himself on the table. "Impossible," he said flatly. "I’ve already made it clear that I’ve quit the National Team. There is absolutely no way I’m going back."
Chen Yu just shrugged, his expression saying, *suit yourself*.
"Fernando, don’t get worked up. And Chen, please don’t take offense. We can discuss the World Cup later. Let’s talk about the knee first. In fact, we’re willing to pay double your fee—four hundred thousand US dollars. How does that sound, Chen?" Cavagale snapped out of it and quickly tried to diate.
Chen Yu shook his head. "I’ve told you my condition. If you’re not going to play in the World Cup—if you’d rather just retire—then for to go to all the trouble of healing you, at your age and in your condition, would be a complete waste of my ti."
Redondo’s fists tightened. He glared at Chen Yu and said through gritted teeth, "If that’s how it is, then I’m sorry, but I don’t need your treatnt."
With that, he grabbed his crutch, shook off Cavagale who tried to stop him, and headed for the door.
Chen Yu didn’t try to stop him. Just as Redondo was about to leave, he added, "Think it through. The mont you walk out that door, you’re giving up your soccer career for good."
Redondo faltered for a second, then walked out without a hint of hesitation.
"I’m sorry, Chen. He’s just too emotional. I apologize on his behalf. Wait here, I’ll go talk to him," Cavagale said, hurrying out after him.
Tawana finally snapped back to reality, his hands clasped over his head, a look of utter disbelief on his face.
"Why?"
He couldn’t understand why Chen Yu had done that.
Chen Yu replied, "Weren’t you the one who said his ntality was the problem? That he should play in the World Cup so he wouldn’t have any regrets?"
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