Ten days after Nirvana.
"Kaka has ended his contract with Real Madrid and will return to the San Siro as a free agent..."
Sandro leaned back against his hospital pillows, reading the copy of La Gazzetta dello Sport in his hands.
The news of Kaka's return to Milan rightfully dominated the front page.
On August 18, 2003, Kaka arrived at Milan as South America's brightest prospect. Over six years, he became the talisman of the European powerhouse, leading the team to their seventh Champions League title and personally winning football's highest individual honor, the Ballon d'Or.
On June 9, 2009, Kaka joined Real Madrid for a transfer fee of 65 million pounds. After a largely unsuccessful stint, he finally returned this summer to Milan, the city that had made him a superstar.
To Kaka and his fans, it all felt like a dream.
Of course, if it really were a dream, it wasn't a particularly sweet one. Kaka's career had trended downward in Madrid. This wasn't a triumphant homecoming; it was more like returning to heal his wounds after a grueling ordeal.
Xiao Zhe and Olivia were football fans themselves. Though one backed the Rossoneri and the other the Nerazzurri, neither was a stranger to Kaka. In fact, because of Kaka's miraculous, phoenix-like recovery from his own spinal injury, the staunchly materialist Olivia had briefly turned to religion during Sandro's previous life.
It was just a pity God hadn't seemed to hear her prayers back then. In that timeline, while Sandro hadn't ended up in a vegetative state or a wheelchair, he had permanently said goodbye to a normal life.
She had already started looking into religion again recently. Now, gazing at Kaka's slightly weather-beaten face in the newspaper and then at Sandro—who looked perfectly fine—she whispered, "Is it really this miraculous? Did God actually answer my prayers?"
Sandro instantly felt a headache coming on.
Mom, please don't do this. I'm afraid the System might misunderstand...
"What does God have to do with it?" Xiao Zhe shook his head. "The old man went back to check on things recently, and it seems Great-Grandpa's grave caught fire..."
"Thanks, Great-Grandpa," Sandro hurriedly pressed his hands together in prayer. "Great-Grandpa is mighty."
Olivia might not know the weight of the phrase "caught fire," but how could he not?
In the lore of Chinese ancestor worship, a grave "catching fire" was a fucking ultimate move—a whole tier higher than one merely billowing smoke. The System might have actually spawned from it.
Olivia was swayed. "Then shouldn't we go back and pay our respects?"
"We really should make a trip back."
"I'm going too..."
As the three of them chatted, Dr. Michel's voice echoed from down the hall.
"How is this possible? This is a miracle! A medical miracle..."
He jogged up to Sandro's bed, looked at the X-rays in his hand, and then stared at his patient. His voice trembled slightly. "Son, you are absolutely not going to believe what has happened to you..."
"Uh, a miracle?" Sandro put down the newspaper. "I heard you from down the hall."
Although Xiao Zhe and Olivia knew Sandro was recovering—and could even be considered fully back to normal—it wasn't until they heard Dr. Michel's diagnosis that they finally felt at ease.
Thank you, Great-Grandpa and Great-Grandma...
"Yes, a miracle!" Dr. Michel waved the two scans. "This is from a week ago, and this is from today. I simply cannot believe this is the same person's spine."
"Please don't make me take another one." Sandro straightened his back. "My body is telling me I feel absolutely fantastic right now... Want me to do a handstand for you?"
"Damn it, is this some kind of mixed-race humor? I don't appreciate it at all." Dr. Michel was still frantic. "I'd rather believe the scans from a week ago were a mistake..."
"Right now, I only care about when I can be discharged."
"If the diagnosis is correct, you can leave right now. But I recommend you stay a bit longer for observation. Hmm... maybe a month."
"One day. Not a minute longer."
"At least fifteen days. I still need to monitor you!"
"Alright, ten days."
"Fifteen days! This is for your own good!"
"Make it five days," Xiao Zhe ruled. "We still need to be careful."
"Five days it is..."
And so, three days later, Sandro happily left the hospital and went home.
His medical bills were naturally fully covered by the club. The kid he had collided with didn't have a scratch on him and had already reported back to training.
It had just been a standard physical challenge. One only had to look at Sandro's Injury Resistance stat—which hadn't even met the passing mark—to know he really couldn't blame anyone else.
His parents had already flown back to China to pay their respects to Great-Grandpa. Sandro rested at home for two days before finally returning to the club.
AC Milan's youth squad and the first team shared a training base—the famous Milanello. Currently, the youth side was competing in the Campionato Primavera and the Coppa Italia Primavera.
Sandro was a substitute forward. He had just been promoted from the U17s to the U19s this season, only to get injured in an intrasquad match before making a single competitive appearance. To say he was uncommonly unlucky would be an understatement.
Honestly, given the potential he had shown so far, he wouldn't have lasted long at Milan even without the injury. He was destined to scrape by in the lower leagues, or perhaps even the amateur divisions below them.
Now, of course, everything was different.
Nirvana had healed his injury, and the Kaka Template had completely transformed him. More importantly, with the System backing him, his future was boundless—he had the undeniable makings of a Football King.
The head of the youth academy, Bianchessi, naturally welcomed his return with open arms.
It wasn't that the team desperately needed him on the pitch. Rather, having a young prospect suffer a career-ending injury during an internal training session would severely damage the academy's reputation.
"You can rest a bit longer," Bianchessi offered diplomatically. "Matches are important, but the players are more important. Your health is the club's greatest asset."
"I'm fully recovered. In the words of my attending physician, Dr. Michel, I'm as strong as an ox right now."
Bianchessi glanced at Sandro's somewhat slight frame and refrained from commenting on Dr. Michel's assessment, but he still approved the request to rejoin the squad.
"Go ahead, then. But if I'm not mistaken, it'll still be a while before you return to the pitch," Bianchessi said. "Unless you can get Mr. Armando's approval first."
Armando Gozzini was Milan's medical director.
He also welcomed Sandro back, carefully reviewed the medical reports, and finally nodded.
"You still need some rehabilitation work before you can return to the pitch," Gozzini said. "If you're lucky, maybe you can even make it in time for the Milan Derby."
The Campionato Primavera's format was rather complex. It was divided by region into several groups—Primavera 1, Primavera 2 Group A, Primavera 2 Group B, and so on. Generally, the group champions were decided first, and then those winners would compete in a playoff to crown the overall champion.
But no matter how the groups were drawn, AC Milan and Inter Milan were always placed in the same one. Therefore, the Milan Derby naturally became a guaranteed staple of every season.
The first Milan Derby of the season was coming up fast. It fell on the second round of the Campionato Primavera, exactly five days away. By then, he would have only just resumed ball work at best, and might not even make the matchday squad. Yet, a smile slowly bloomed on his face. "My luck has been pretty good lately."
After all, his ancestral grave had caught fire...