His right thumb didn't stop, still rubbing the tip of the pen. This action followed three years of stress habits - every time he was put on the bench to watch others play, every time he was not allowed to play in a training match, every time Zhou Peng walked behind him without looking at him, he would rub the pen with his thumb.
The contract pages were spread out on the table, and the footers were gently turned by the cooling fan of a monitor. Lu Chen saw his name printed above Party B's signature column. The ink was black, the same color as the team registration form that Zhao Ye filled out for him three years ago.
