After confirming there were no problems with his body, Qin Ming focused his attention on the template.
In the world of football, there are two top players who have the fewest critics.
They are Marco van Basten and Ronaldinho.
The former retired too early due to injury, leaving a sense of brilliance cut short at its peak.
On top of that, his skills were well-rounded, and his stats and honors were impressive.
Some might not be huge fans or think he wasn’t the strongest, but there’s really nothing specific to criticize.
Then there’s Ronaldinho.
Even though he was known for partying, drinking, clubbing, and even ending up in jail, fans still hold him in high regard.
Even Pelé and Maradona have had their share of criticism for both their on- and off-field actions.
Why is that?
Because most people who love football started playing as kids, running around with the wind in their faces, laughing.
And Ronaldinho, whenever he was on the pitch, always wore a big, genuine smile.
It’s hard to be mad at someone with that kind of smile.
Even if he dribbled past you repeatedly, you’d think, “Wow, what amazing skill,” instead of feeling humiliated.
That pure joy for the game, rooted in love for football, made Ronaldinho’s style feel more like a game—capturing the true essence of football.
Of course, there are many interpretations of football: greater than life, war in peacetime, and so on.
But for most fans, it’s not about extreme competitiveness—it’s a joyful game shared with friends and teammates.
In that sense, Ronaldinho stood on the peak of world football for the childlike part of all of us.
How could anyone not love him?
Still, the core of it all is skill.
Watching Ronaldinho’s highlights always brings the same feeling.
His technique, his dribbling—everything exudes pure talent and artistry.
That dreamy, surreal footwork elevated football beyond just sport, capturing the hearts of countless fans.
Qin Ming pulled a football out from under the bed and started playing with it right in the dorm.
With crisp, rhythmic touches—thump, thump, thump—the ball danced lightly across his feet, thighs, shoulders, and more.
Feeling the ball’s response, Qin Ming thought, this must be what they call “ball sense.”
It was like rediscovering the joy of childhood football.
Reluctantly setting the ball down, he began thinking about the future.
First of all, no going back to the Chinese Super League.
Staying in the top five leagues would be ideal.
If not, second-tier leagues like the Eredivisie, Turkish Super Lig, or English Championship would do.
But was there a suitable club?
For some reason, Qin Ming suddenly thought of hats.
Wolfsburg thrashes the opponent—Zhang Xizhe scores a hat trick!
Wolfsburg, backed by Volkswagen, is a well-known Bundesliga club.
And Volkswagen, aiming to expand in China, has always wanted to sign a Chinese player.
If Zhang Xizhe could do it, why not him?
After all, he came from Bayern’s youth system, had played many games with the second team.
His original performance might not have stood out, but now he held the Ronaldinho template.
If he could sign with Wolfsburg, surely his brilliance would eventually shine.
“All that hard work wasn’t for nothing.”
Qin Ming was a man of action.
He immediately opened his laptop and created a resume.
He then searched Wolfsburg’s official site, found the contact info for their recruitment team and head coach, and emailed them his personal data, along with media coverage and forum posts from Chinese sports platforms.
Not stopping there, he followed and DM’d them on Instagram and Facebook.
Worried it might look desperate?
Well, desperate times call for action.
Who’s going to hand you an opportunity if you don’t go after it?
Qin Ming wasn’t stupid—opportunities must be fought for.
If he had the coach’s address, he might’ve shown up in person.
At the very least, he needed a trial—anything to get out from under Ten Hag.
Still, he didn’t put all his eggs in one basket.
He sent his resume to other clubs too.
The strategy was clear: cast a wide net.
By the time he was done, the sun was already high in the sky.
Qin Ming realized that soon, he’d need to find an agent.
Handling all this himself left no time for training.
He still had to improve his Ronaldinho template fusion rate.
“Thanks.”
Qin Ming thanked Højbjerg, then buried his head in another tasteless meal.
Waiting is always hard—but he wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing.
Since Ten Hag banned him from using the facilities, he headed to the public pitch.
Training is training, no matter where it is.
Germany might lack other things, but not free public fields.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
On a well-maintained synthetic field, wearing his Bayern second-team kit, Qin Ming warmed up seriously before diving into ball training.
Professional training is mostly made up of basics.
Dribbling, passing, shooting—repeating them day after day builds true skill.
Even Ronaldinho didn’t skip that.
So Qin Ming trained with full focus, following his memories exactly.
He had to be in top form for any trial.
On a nearby street, an older bald man walked by.
“Good ball control, explosive power, speed, and flexibility…”
He instinctively paused, silently evaluating what he saw.
Then Qin Ming got inspired and used an extremely flashy move to lift the ball, followed by high-quality touches with his head, chest, back, and feet.
That casual yet magical feel radiated naturally.
“Second team player?”
Guardiola immediately felt a strange familiarity, and quickly realized where it came from.
Ronaldinho!
Only a handful of players in world football had left such a deep impression on him.
He hadn’t expected this surprise while walking around to clear his head.
But why hadn’t he heard of this kid last season?
Normally, the second team—as a reserve squad—was different from the youth team.
The coaching staff would regularly update him on promising players.
Yet in his year and a half at Bayern, this young man hadn’t stood out to him at all.
Could he have improved that much, that quickly?
Football has seen such cases.
Guardiola decided not to overthink it.
“Great ball sense,” Guardiola thought to himself, lingering for a moment before walking off, memorizing Qin Ming’s face.
Why not promote him immediately?
That would be too naïve—football isn’t that simple.
After all, physical duels are the core of matches.
Whether it’s controlling, passing, or shooting, it’s usually done under pressure.
His mentor Cruyff once said: some people can juggle the ball a thousand times—but that’s not real technique.
That’s something anyone can do with practice—then go join a circus.
To truly evaluate a player, he’d hold a training match in a few days.
Somehow, Guardiola had a hunch—this young man might ease some of his burden.
Last season, he led Bayern to a domestic double, but cracks had started to show.
Conflicts with team doctor Müller-Wohlfahrt, differences in football philosophy with players, and disputes with management over transfers—all of it weighed on him.
Coaching Bayern wasn’t as easy as leaving Barcelona made it seem.
He badly needed “his own people”—trusted core players.
But they were hard to find.
Soon, he turned and left.
Back on the pitch, Qin Ming finally noticed Guardiola—hard not to, with that shiny bald head.
But he didn’t think much of it.
(END CHAPTER)