Phoenix District Dreams: Rise of the Golden Dragon

The clatter of cutlery faded as Kai pushed back from the dinner table in the team hotel. The weight of Deng's decision – *bench again* – sat like lead in his stomach, despite the hearty meal. Polite murmurs of "Good luck tomorrow" followed him, but his world had narrowed to the confines of his own thoughts and the number itching under his skin: 25. He needed air, or rather, a voice that wasn't analyzing formations or whispering condolences.

His room was quiet, sterile. He shed the team tracksuit like shedding a layer of expectation and stepped into the shower. Scalding water beat down on tense shoulders, washing away the physical residue of another grueling day but doing little for the restless churn inside. He replayed Deng's pragmatic reasoning, the flicker of understanding in the coach's eyes, the sympathetic glances. He knew it made sense. Zhengzhou Warriors were a fortress, not a firefight. Experience over exuberance. Logic, however, was cold comfort against the burning desire to start, to prove Wuhan wasn't just a flash in the pan. He emerged, towel slung low, hair dripping, the unease clinging like steam.

He grabbed his phone. No hesitation. Su's name glowed at the top of his recent calls. He tapped it, the dial tone echoing the frantic beat of his own heart.

***

Across the city, bathed in the soft glow of her bedside lamp, Su Yuelin lay sprawled on her bed, a thick sports physiology text propped open but largely ignored. Her mind was replaying the Zhengzhou tactical breakdown she'd sent Kai earlier, worrying over Deng's likely lineup. When Kai's name flashed on her screen, a slow, knowing smile spread across her face. She swiped to answer, propping the phone against her pillow.

"Couldn't sleep, Number Twenty-Five?" Her voice was warm honey, laced with gentle teasing. "Or just missing my tactical genius already?"

Kai's face filled her screen, hair damp, towel still draped around his neck, the hotel room's generic art visible behind him. He managed a half-smile, the unease clear in his eyes despite the attempt. "Genius is a strong word. Annoying analyst, maybe." He sank onto the edge of his bed, running a hand through his wet hair. "Training was… intense. Video session felt like watching a car crash in slow motion. My shoulder's fine, before you ask."

Su shifted, resting her cheek on her hand, her dark eyes soft with understanding. "Deng's dissecting the surrender, not the resurrection. Necessary evil. And the bench…" She saw him tense almost imperceptibly. "It's Zhengzhou, Kai. A different puzzle. Deng wants the chisel before the scalpel. Doesn't mean he doesn't see the scalpel's edge."

"I know," Kai sighed, the frustration leaking through. "Logically, I *know*. But sitting there again… after…" He trailed off, the memory of The Crucible's roar, the volley, the applause, vivid and raw.

"After you lit the place on fire?" Su finished softly. "That fire doesn't go out just because you start on the bench, Kai. It just banks, waits for the right moment to blaze." She paused, her gaze holding his through the screen. "Why my birthdate, Kai?" The question was gentle, but direct, shifting the focus from football to the unspoken current always humming between them. "Why 25?"

Kai's breath hitched. He looked down at his hands, then back up, meeting her eyes. The intensity in his gaze was unmistakable, a vulnerability he rarely showed anyone else. "You very well know why, Su," he murmured, his voice low and rough.

A faint blush coloured Su's cheeks, but she held his gaze. "I might have an inkling," she admitted, a small smile playing on her lips. "But Kai… not now. Okay? The spotlight's on you, brighter than ever after Wuhan. The pressure, the scrutiny… it's just starting." Her voice softened further, filled with a tenderness that made his chest tighten. "I will *always* be here. Your strategist, your anchor, your… Su. We can wait. You focus on conquering the Celestial Championship. Everything else…" She took a deep breath. "Everything else can wait until the time is right. Okay?"

Kai opened his mouth, the words *'But I don't want to wait'* hovering on his tongue, a confession burning to break free. He wanted to tell her how her voice calmed the pre-match storms, how her analysis was his secret weapon, how the thought of her was the fire in his belly when he trained.

"Kai," Su whispered, cutting him off before the words could spill out. "Look at me." She tapped her screen. With a soft chime, the call switched from audio to video. Her face filled his screen properly now. She was lying on her side, propped up on one elbow, her hair slightly messy, wearing a soft, worn Jinjiang United t-shirt. Her eyes, deep and warm, held his with an intimacy that felt like a physical touch across the distance. "We can stay like this for now," she said, her voice barely above a murmur, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Right here. Me in your pocket, you in mine. Talking tactics, complaining about Deng's drills, listening to you snore…" She teased gently. "When the time comes, when the pitch feels conquered and the noise settles… *then* we move forward. Okay?"

The raw honesty, the protective love in her eyes, the sheer *Su-ness* of her offer – understanding his ambition, shielding his heart, demanding nothing but his focus – disarmed him completely. The frustration melted, replaced by a profound warmth that spread through him. He mirrored her soft smile. "Okay," he breathed, the single word heavy with unspoken promises. "Just… stay on the call?"

"Try and stop me," Su chuckled softly, snuggling deeper into her pillow, her eyes never leaving his on the screen. A comfortable silence settled, charged with the quiet electricity of their connection. Then, Kai remembered.

"If… *when* I score tomorrow," he said, a spark of his usual playful defiance returning, "I'm doing it."

"Doing what?" Su asked, feigning ignorance, a knowing glint in her eye.

"Our hand sign," Kai stated, holding up his right hand. "The one just for you. The secret signal."

A genuine smile lit up Su's face. "For me?"

"Only for you," Kai confirmed, his gaze unwavering. He brought his hand closer to the camera. "Watch." He curled his thumb and pinky finger inward towards his palm, leaving his index, middle, and ring fingers extended straight. Then, he tapped his thumb and pinky together twice against his palm, a quick, subtle flickering motion, like a bird's wingbeat or a spark catching. "The Phoenix Flick," he explained softly. "Our flicker in the storm. Only you'll know what it means."

Su watched, mesmerized by the simple, intimate gesture. It was theirs. A silent message across the roar of the crowd. "I love it," she whispered, her heart full. "Now, try to get some sleep, Number Twenty-Five. Big day tomorrow. Even from the bench." She yawned dramatically, burrowing further into her pillow. "I'll be right here. Guarding your dreams from rogue tactics."

Kai laughed, the sound warm and free. "Deal." He plugged his phone in, propped it up on the bedside table, and settled back against his own pillows, the screen showing Su's sleepy, peaceful face. The unease was gone, replaced by a quiet determination and the comforting presence of the girl who held his heart and his playbook. They drifted off, the soft sound of each other's breathing a lullaby, the video call a fragile, glowing bridge between their worlds.

***

Kai woke to the soft grey light of dawn filtering through the hotel curtains. His phone screen still glowed, showing Su fast asleep, her face serene, lips slightly parted, a stray lock of hair across her cheek. He watched her for a moment, a wave of tenderness washing over him. Then, her eyelashes fluttered. She blinked, slowly focusing on the screen, her gaze meeting his sleepily.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Kai whispered, a smile touching his lips.

"Morning, Benchwarmer," Su mumbled back, her voice thick with sleep but her eyes crinkling with affection. "Go get ready. Big breakfast. Carbs. Protein. The works. Zhengzhou won't know what hit them… eventually."

Kai chuckled. "Yes, Coach." He lingered for another second, committing the sight of her sleepy smile to memory. "See you soon." He ended the call, the screen going dark, but the warmth of the connection lingered, fueling him as he got ready for the day ahead.

***

The roar of Dragon Bay Arena was a familiar, comforting beast compared to The Crucible's hostile furnace. Blue and silver rippled through the stands, hopeful, expectant. Kai sat on the bench, focused, tracking the game. Zhengzhou were exactly as advertised: organized, disciplined, a deep-lying block that absorbed Jinjiang's early pressure like a sponge. Possession was high, chances were few. Ahmed Khalid tried to weave magic on the right, Kenji Nakamura cut in from the left, Martins battled the centre-backs, but the final ball was lacking. The tension mounted with each passing minute.

Then, Kai saw them. Near the corner of the main stand, close to the pitch. Su, sitting between Xu Bo and Li Xia. Xu was already gesticulating wildly about a missed pass, Li Xia leaning forward intently, her sketchbook momentarily forgotten on her lap. And Su… her eyes weren't just on the game. They scanned the Jinjiang bench. Kai felt her gaze find him. He gave the tiniest nod, a private acknowledgment across the sea of blue. A small, reassuring smile touched her lips before she turned back to the action. His anchor was here. His friends were here. He wasn't alone on this bench.

The game hit the 25th minute. Still 0-0. Frustration simmered on the pitch. Then, disaster. Zhang Lei, battling fiercely in midfield for a loose ball, tangled legs with a Zhengzhou midfielder. He went down hard, clutching his ankle, his face contorted in pain. The physio rushed on. Coach Deng stood, hands on hips, his expression grim. Lei tried to stand, put weight on it, and immediately sank back down. He shook his head at the physio.

Kai's heart began to pound, a drumbeat against his ribs. This wasn't a tactical change. This was necessity.

Deng turned sharply, his eyes scanning the bench. They locked onto Kai. No hesitation this time. "Kai! Get ready! Now! Central midfield. Link play. Find the gaps!"

Adrenaline surged, electric and pure. Kai ripped off his training top, revealing the blue shirt, the silver 25 gleaming. He pulled on his shin guards with practiced speed, laced his boots tight. Park Ji-sung helped him strap on the substitute vest. The fourth official held up the board: **25 ON - 8 OFF**.

As he jogged to the touchline, the crowd noise swelling in anticipation, he looked towards the stands. Straight at Su. Her eyes were wide, fixed on him, a mixture of excitement and fierce support blazing in them. He didn't need words. He brought his right hand up, subtly, near his chest, hidden from most by his body. Thumb and pinky curled in. Index, middle, ring fingers straight. A quick double tap of thumb and pinky against his palm. *The Phoenix Flick. For you.*

Su saw it. Her hand flew to her mouth, then she nodded fiercely, a brilliant, proud smile breaking across her face. Xu Bo, oblivious to the secret signal, was yelling encouragement. Li Xia beamed.

The assistant referee waved him on. Kai stepped over the white line onto the hallowed turf of Dragon Bay Arena, the roar of his home crowd washing over him. He touched the 25 on his chest, then pointed subtly towards Su's section, a silent promise only she understood.

*25th minute. Number 25.* He took a deep breath, the scent of cut grass and anticipation filling his lungs. He looked towards the centre circle where the restart awaited. A fierce grin touched his lips.

*My time to shine. Now.*