Lynn's words in the hospital corridor made the players nod one after another. Afterward, he told them to head back first, but not a single player was willing to leave early. They insisted on waiting and going back with him.
Lynn returned to the ward to undergo another check-up.
Just as the doctor was holding up fingers and asking him about his vision, crisp footsteps ca from outside the door.
The sound of high heels striking the floor was like a sharp rhythm tapping beside his ear. It was clearly a woman's footsteps, fast and heavy.
Lynn leaned forward and looked toward the door. Erin appeared at the entrance in a cream-white coat, her blonde hair pinned up neatly, holding a n's coat in her arms.
Surprise crossed Lynn's face. Before he could speak, two heads popped out from behind Erin by the doorway. It was Glendower and Grosso, both wearing expressions that said they were here to watch the show.
Lynn laughed and scolded, "What are you looking at? Get out!"
The two heads imdiately vanished.
The mont Erin saw Lynn, unmistakable worry flickered in her eyes. But after hearing him speak, her expression returned to normal. Without saying a word, she walked over to him, raised her warm, jade-like hand, and touched his face. Her fingertips then gently brushed over the bandage wrapped around his wound.
"Mo Yuan told what happened at Ninian Park. He said you lost your coat, so I brought you another one. I'm leaving now. I'll co see you again when you're back in Swansea."
After saying that, Erin turned to leave.
Lynn understood her personality too well. He reached out and caught her wrist.
"What are you going to do?"
Erin did not turn around. She allowed him to hold her wrist, but her voice was cold.
"Make the people who hurt you pay."
She really could do it. The Taylor family had transford over the years, but they had started from the streets after all. They used to feed a lot of people, and they still did. Those people now had legitimate jobs, but if the family called on them, they would imdiately pick up blades and take down whoever the Taylors pointed at.
It might not be as bloody and brutal as a movie mafia wiping out entire families, but broken bones, ruined limbs, or even permanent disability were all real possibilities.
Lynn slowly tightened his grip and pulled her back in front of him.
The doctor tactfully left the room.
Lynn unbuttoned Erin's coat, slipped both arms around her slender waist, and held her in front of him. He rested the side of his face against her, closed his eyes, and smiled.
"Leave football matters on the football field. This is different from the football hooligan incident last ti. I accept your concern, and I know what you want to do, but right now, all I need is to hold you like this. My wound will heal much faster. And if I get a little gentle comfort, I might even be so happy I'll thank those Cardiff bastards for this."
Erin did not stubbornly insist. She gently stroked his hair and finally sighed.
"I'll wait for you in Swansea."
Lynn gave a soft hum.
Erin released him, turned, and left.
Watching her co and go in such a hurry, Lynn could not help sighing.
"She really is the kind of woman who never makes anyone worry about her. If anything, I'm always the one making her worry."
Erin left quickly. When she arrived, she had already seen the large crowd of reporters gathered outside the hospital.
The reason she did not want her relationship with Lynn exposed was simply because she did not want to cause trouble for him. She did not want Lynn's family to dislike her. She knew his parents did not want a woman from outside China to beco their daughter-in-law. Being friends was fine, but entering the family? That was far from certain.
Even though she knew Lynn's parents and often received praise from Tang Yue, she was still afraid that if her relationship with Lynn beca official and his parents opposed it, she might lose sothing she considered truly important.
When Lynn walked out of the hospital wearing the fitted coat Erin had bought for him, the scene outside was spectacular.
Not only had the Welsh dia gathered there, but many Fleet Street outlets had also rushed over after hearing the news.
In the eyes of all the reporters, the scene around Lynn was equally imposing.
Lynn stood there in a black fitted coat, his head wrapped in bandages. Behind him stood a line of people of different heights: players, coaches, team doctors, and club staff. More than twenty people stood in formation behind Lynn.
Flashbulbs went off wildly. Reporters captured the scene one after another before surging forward, crowding around Lynn to seize the best spots and thrust their microphones toward him.
"Who started the fight in the tunnel?"
"Which player attacked you and caused your injury?"
"Is Swansea really the instigator of the conflict, as Cardiff City's spokesperson claims?"
"Is your injury serious? Will you need rest?"
A faint smile appeared on Lynn's face.
He spotted Kase Carter in the crowd, her face filled with concern, but he gave her no signal. He simply raised one hand, motioning for everyone to quiet down.
The scene quickly fell silent.
Many microphones were held in front of him. Lynn smiled and spoke clearly.
"From any angle you choose to look at it, today, Swansea defeated Cardiff City."
After saying that, Lynn walked forward.
The crowd parted automatically. So reporters still tried to ask follow-up questions, but Lynn ignored them with a smile and continued walking. Swansea's team bus was parked not far away.
The reporters turned their attention to the Swansea players, but none of them answered any questions. Like Lynn, even the players with bruises on their faces or bodies all wore confident smiles as they followed him toward the bus.
After boarding the bus, Lynn waited until everyone had sat down and the vehicle had started moving. He first made a phone call. After hanging up, he stood and said to everyone, "Lads, today is Boxing Day. I know you've all had a hard day, so before we ca here, I actually booked a restaurant for the club's Christmas dinner. I just called to confirm it. The restaurant didn't cancel our reservation just because we're late, and the owner even said he'll give us a free case of Haut-Brion.
"I know you usually have to watch what you eat at the club, and I know the nutrition als torture your stomachs. Tonight, you can enjoy your Christmas dinner without restrictions. It's late, yes, but I hope you enjoy it."
The mood on the bus instantly beca lively.
Villa laughed. "I didn't expect the Boss to keep this from us. Is this supposed to be a surprise?"
"What's Haut-Brion?" Grosso asked blankly.
Jas Cook smiled and explained, "It's a red wine brand."
"Is it expensive?" Grosso asked again.
"Depends. With top wines, the year matters. If the vintage isn't good, even a famous brand won't sell for a high price," Cook patiently explained.
"Can we bring family?" Gabbidon called out.
Lynn nodded. "No problem. Bring whoever you want."
Cromwell shouted, "Boss, can we go ho and change first?"
Lynn checked his watch. "We should get back to Swansea around half past ten. I'll give you half an hour to go ho and tidy up. Don't waste ti dressing up. The Christmas dinner starts at eleven sharp."
"Good!"
"No problem!"
"Got it!"
Seeing the players in such high spirits, Lynn smiled and sat back down.
After sitting, he sent Mo Yuan a ssage.
Sothing this big had happened at Ninian Park, yet Mo Yuan had not appeared. He must have been busy with sothing important.
There was also a missed call from Mo Yuan on Lynn's phone from three hours ago. At that ti, Lynn had still been unconscious.
Less than two minutes later, Mo Yuan replied.
"I'm in London. I arranged to et an FA executive committee mber tomorrow."
Only then did Lynn belatedly realize that the large-scale brawl between Swansea and Cardiff after the match would definitely alarm the FA, and it certainly would not be a good thing.
He replied, "What's the situation?"
Mo Yuan's reply ca quickly and was very brief.
"I'll handle the FA."
Lynn casually replied, "Okay."
Since Mo Yuan had made his stance clear, Lynn would not interfere further. After all, Mo Yuan was the club's CEO. There were things Lynn could ask about, but he did not want to beco the kind of owner who stuck his hand into everything. That would make Mo Yuan uncomfortable, and Lynn did not have the energy for it either.
He continued looking at his phone.
Kase Carter had sent him many ssages. At first, she had congratulated him on the victory, then asked how things were at Ninian Park, and finally, the ssages had turned entirely into worried questions about his condition.
Lynn replied to her.
"My injury is fine. Don't worry."
"Co to my place tonight!"
"There's a team dinner tonight. Another day."
"I just want to see you and make sure you're really okay."
"I know. But I really am fine."
"Fine. Then I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow."
Not long after Lynn put his phone away, Lin Jiajie called.
His parents did not usually follow football closely. And since it was Christmas, even though their family did not celebrate it, people in Britain had ti off. Employees were off, schools were closed, and as a business owner and a teacher, the couple had gone on a trip together.
Because they were away, they were naturally not as well-inford as they would have been in Swansea. Lynn had planned to hide his injury from them, but it seed the news had still leaked.
He spoke with Lin Jiajie and Tang Yue for a full hour, repeatedly stressing that it was only a minor injury and firmly persuading them not to cut their trip short and return to Swansea. Only then did he finally manage to convince them.
After returning to Swansea that night, Lynn joined the players and club staff at a hotel restaurant in the city center for the Christmas dinner.
The injured Lynn gave a Christmas speech, receiving applause and cheers from all the players and staff.
After returning from Cardiff, Swansea's unity seed to have risen sharply.
Lynn's prestige within the team had also reached an unprecedented level.
In the eyes of the players, he had beco a manager worth following.
At half past one in the morning, Lynn was the first to leave. Since he used the excuse of needing to recover from his injury, no one stopped him. But instead of going ho, he went to the hotel where Erin lived and enjoyed her ticulous, gentle care as he "recovered" from his wounds.
The next day, Fleet Street covered the post-match conflict between the two Welsh clubs heavily, framing it as negative news and defining it as a scandal for Welsh football.
But the Welsh dia were far more passionate.
Walter Raleigh, now the star reporter of the South Wales Argus, wrote a beautiful article that left Swansea fans completely absorbed.
"Bloodied Swans Fly to the Peak of Snowdon!"
Snowdon is the highest mountain in Wales and England, located in northwest Wales, not far from Swansea.
Leo Sharp of the Western Mail published an equally fiery match report.
"Red Cards, Brawls, Managers Clashing, Four Goals! The Wildest Welsh Derby in History Is Born!"
The South Wales Evening Post described Lynn as a fighting hero and a great leader.
"The Young Swan Commander Standing Tall in the Fire: Swansea Finally Finds Its Leader After 88 Years!"
BBC Wales and ITV Wales produced special programs on the night of the match, replaying and analyzing the ga, digging into the post-match conflict, and following the news of Lynn being injured and sent to hospital.
On Boxing Day at the end of the year 2000, Lynn gained unprecedented support and loyalty inside Swansea City.
He also beca a hero in the hearts of the Swans' supporters.
The weather was poor, and London was caught in endless drizzle.
Inside a suite at a four-star hotel, Mo Yuan had rested for the night and was now dressed neatly. He was particular about his appearance, slowly and carefully adjusting every detail.
By the ti he finished, he had beco a sharp, elegant man with an impressive bearing.
He sat by the window in the living area of the suite. Breakfast was laid out on the table: a few slices of wholewheat bread, a cup of coffee, and a fried egg. He liked putting the fried egg between slices of bread. The egg had to be soft, and sotis he would add a little ketchup.
Scattered across the table were newspapers from various Fleet Street outlets, both broadsheets and tabloids, all opened to the sports section.
Light rain washed against the window beside him, blurring and clearing the view of prosperous London in turns.
Mo Yuan ate breakfast while reading the papers. Apart from news about Swansea, he also paid attention to business news in English football, such as which club had signed a new sponsorship deal, which chairman was talking about a new developnt plan, or which FA official had expressed an opinion on the current state of English football.
When Mo Yuan first joined the club, he had been a learner, a listener, and soone who executed orders.
Now, he had passed that stage.
He had fully stepped into the role of Swansea's CEO.
He did not feel pressured. The more he did, the more people he t, the more he understood, the more comfortable he beca. He was gaining clearer ideas, sharper instincts, and a better understanding of how to maximize benefits, maximize efficiency, and achieve the results he wanted.
After breakfast, he called hotel service to clear the table, then stood in front of the window and looked down over this city where classical and modern, natural and cutting-edge elents intertwined.
At around ten in the morning, the doorbell rang.
Mo Yuan checked his watch.
10:08.
He said faintly to himself, "Eight minutes late."
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