American Football: King of the Bay Area

A faint, cream-colored mist gently swirled, vaguely outlining the silhouettes of single-family homes and the curves of the rolling hills. The dim, orange streetlights had yet to be extinguished, their soft light piercing the churning fog to trace the lines of bushes, low trees, and cars.

Listening closely, one could occasionally catch the fleeting roar of a car engine amidst the vast, distant silence. The deep night slowly receded as a pale golden dawn revealed itself, bit by bit. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, the sound of birdsong awakened the morning’s vibrant energy, and the entire city began to stir. As the thin mist faded away, the streets and houses were slowly outlined in a golden frame, a seamless blend of an ink wash painting’s poetry and an oil painting’s rich color.

TAP. TAP. TAP.

The soft sound of footsteps echoed between the streets—steady, powerful, and with a clear, methodical rhythm. One after another, they gently dissolved into the sunrise’s tranquility, like the city’s own heartbeat gradually growing stronger.

Lu Ke was on his morning run. Today was Tuesday, a day for his ongoing recovery training, along with more strength training, studying the playbook, and reviewing game film. After the regular season began, the life of a professional athlete was actually quite tedious. That was why Lu Ke completely understood the cathartic and uninhibited joy of a Sunday night out at the bars.

Scientific studies have shown that if you stick with something for thirty days, it gradually becomes a habit. Then, that quantitative change leads to a qualitative one, bringing about a true, fundamental transformation. This was true for learning, and it was true for exercise.

After receiving the Rugby Superstar System, sticking to his daily training had become a habit. Lu Ke was now completely at ease with his tasks, his muscles gradually developing their own memory. Compared to slacking off and relaxing, he was actually more accustomed to the rhythm of training every day.

During his warm-up run, his mind would go completely blank. No thoughts of tactics, games, or pressure—it was a total void. He would immerse his whole body and mind in the act of running. For Lu Ke, this was a form of relaxation, even an indulgence.

He loved San Francisco in the morning. The mornings in Candlestick Park, the Haight-Ashbury District, the Church District, and on the winding hillside paths—their tranquil serenity always brought him a sense of peace. Even the crisp, cold air and the thin, warm sunlight felt so wonderful.

A flurry of hurried, frantic footsteps suddenly broke the peace, like a giant, belligerent blender kicking on and sending the world into a tumultuous spin. Before he could react, a crowd of people rushed out from the side of the street. They swarmed boisterously toward Lu Ke, surrounding him and instantly shattering his running rhythm.

”Do you really have to train at a fixed time every morning? Is Monday an exception?”

”Rumor has it the coaching staff intends to start Alex Smith this week. What are your thoughts on that?”

”You’re still living with your parents. Is that a personal choice, or a cultural thing?”

”Have you changed your training plan since Rookie Training Camp?”

”After losing last week’s game, did you make any adjustments to your training plan?”

”What are your plans if you lose the starting position for this week’s game?”

...

The cacophony of questions rained down like a torrential downpour, so overwhelming he could barely breathe. A droning buzz was all that remained, reminiscent of persistent green bottle flies—infuriatingly annoying and relentlessly disruptive. Even the crisp chill between the hills seemed to retreat as a restless, scorching heat shattered the morning’s tranquility.

Reporters. Relentless, inescapable reporters.

After four weeks of games, Lu Ke was no longer a nobody. This undrafted player was a goldmine of headlines, and more and more reporters were turning their focus to him. Almost every step he took was history in the making. Moreover, his status as a Chinese-American quarterback was seen as a potential key to unlocking the Asian market, which had piqued the interest of major media outlets.

And so, the off-field factors began to grow more complex and turbulent.

For a professional player, living in the spotlight was part of the job. Learning how to shut out off-field distractions and dedicate oneself completely to the game was a severe test for every athlete, which was why agents were so crucial. But an agent could only provide support; ultimately, it all came down to the player.

The glitz and glamor of the spotlight were hard to resist. Now, four weeks after entering the Alliance, Lu Ke was finally getting a taste of being the center of attention. It was all starting to feel very real.

The reporters had sprung out from the side without warning; they had clearly been lying in wait for a while. Lu Ke, who had never experienced this kind of treatment, was badly startled and reflexively dodged sideways. But he was immediately trapped in the reporters’ circle, the churning noise a stark contrast to the neighborhood’s peaceful atmosphere.

In an explosive instant, Lu Ke’s hands clenched into fists. He adopted a boxer’s defensive stance, ready to strike at any moment. The next second, realizing they were reporters, his tense nerves eased slightly, but he didn’t let his guard down completely. Still a bit flustered, Lu Ke ignored them and instead burst into a sprint, pushing his speed faster and faster.

Such a sudden burst of speed during a long run was second nature to Lu Ke, but for the reporters, it was a nightmare. Before they could even react, they saw him break through their circle. He ran faster and farther, his speed continuously increasing, leaving them in the dust as his figure shrank into the distance.

The reporters frantically tried to give chase but couldn’t keep up at all. They watched helplessly as Lu Ke’s figure shrank to a small black dot in the distance. Gasping for air, they were forced to slow down, standing on the spot, completely out of breath. They looked at each other, at a loss, exchanging glances filled with nothing but helplessness.

Just when Lu Ke thought he had shaken the reporters, the PUTT-PUTT-PUTT of an engine sounded in his ear.

Turning his head, Lu Ke was astonished to see a young man on a scooter, steadily catching up. The man kept pace right beside him and called out, ”I interviewed your teammates before. They said you train every single day, seven days a week. Is that true? Even on your days off? Why?”

”...” Lu Ke felt as if a flock of ravens was croaking over his head. An indescribable sense of absurdity washed over him, and he finally let out a snort of laughter. He had to admit, the young reporter’s unconventional approach was truly refreshing and impressive. ”Have you ever seen *Roman Holiday*?”

That was Lu Ke’s answer. The young reporter looked momentarily stunned, not understanding at all. Then he saw Lu Ke shake his head with a broad smile and accelerate again. After passing an intersection, Lu Ke made a sharp turn, crossed the street, and started to slowly ascend an uphill road.

Seeing this, the young man immediately changed direction and gave chase. But he quickly found the distance between them widening, bit by bit, as if he could never catch up. He looked down and finally realized how steep the long slope was. The scooter’s engine seemed to lack the power; climbing was becoming incredibly difficult, to say nothing of accelerating.

And so, he could only stare at Lu Ke’s back and shout in a panicked, anxious voice, ”Lu Ke! Wait, Lu Ke, I just have two questions! Two!”

Unfortunately, Lu Ke didn’t stop. He finally disappeared over the crest of the hill, vanishing completely from sight.

A moment later, the other reporters finally caught up, their questions rising in a chorus. ”Where’s Lu Ke?”

The young man pointed toward the top of the hill, his face a mask of helplessness.

After shaking off the reporters, Lu Ke returned to his usual rhythm. He methodically ran a small loop, sticking to his planned route home. When he was just two blocks away, he began to slow down, regulating his breathing and checking his heart rate to gauge the effectiveness of the day’s training.

”Lu Ke!”

A shout from the street startled Lu Ke, and he reflexively moved to dodge. Looking toward the voice, he saw Logan Newman, his face a mask of exhaustion as if he’d just woken up. He was rubbing his eyes and letting out a huge yawn.

Noticing Lu Ke’s startled expression, Logan chuckled and stretched. ”Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me after just one day?”

”You really do look like a ghost right now,” Lu Ke retorted dryly, shaking his head. ”What are you doing here? Especially at this hour?”

He had just finished his warm-up, and it was only a little after six. For Logan, that was definitely far too early.

In fact, after joining the San Francisco 49ers, Logan had moved out. The Newman house was now home to just Austin, Tiffany, and Julia. However, since they were all in the same city, Logan still came home from time to time and would occasionally stay over. But this hour was highly unusual.

Logan yawned again, still not fully awake. ”I was just thinking… you do strength training every day, right? I thought maybe I should join you.”

Lu Ke froze, thinking he must have misheard. He gave Logan a wry smile. ”Come again? Strength training? Now? At six in the morning?” Seeing Logan’s sheepish expression, Lu Ke burst into a hearty laugh. ”Jesus Christ, Logan Newman, are you serious? The sun still rose in the east today; I just checked.”

”Lu Ke!” Logan seethed, rolling his eyes dramatically. ”Don’t make me regret this, alright? Do you have any idea how much courage it took for me to get up this early!”