"Mr. Hulay, the living space for forwards like you who can only score goals is getting narrower and narrower in today's football world... But despite this, you have still achieved dazzling achievements. What is the secret of your success?"
On a winter afternoon, Hu Lai showed the highest honor he had just received to reporters from all over the world. Some reporters asked him this question.
Facing the reporters' gazes, Hu Lai's mind went back to that afternoon in middle school, when he stood alone by the court watching other students play. They didn't let him play, thinking he was here to cause trouble. He also thought of what the coach said to him with a straight face: "Hu Lai, if you can't put in ten times the effort of others, your talent will be just a worthless stone." And a disdainful voice: "Modern football's requirements for centers are getting higher and higher, and they are becoming more and more comprehensive. What's the use of you only shooting?"
Finally, his thoughts settled on that time. Night was already looming in the eastern sky. In the middle of an abandoned open space surrounded by grass, a girl said to him seriously: "Hu Lai, you are actually talented, and a very powerful talent! Because you know where the goal is!"
Hu Lai stared into the girl's eyes and saw the sunset behind her from those eyes.
The sunlight is reflected in the pupils, flowing, burning, and condensing into a halo of light, as if it wants to melt itself into this light.
After withdrawing his thoughts, Hu Lai returned to this warm winter afternoon. Facing the enthusiastic reporters, he smiled slightly: "Because I know that the goal is there."
