Carlos walked very fast, striding forward, and Su Qingjia didn't know what he was going to do, so he could only look at his face in a hurry.

The pitch was huge, but the focus was on Carlos alone, and Chelsea couldn't even notice it, and Oleg turned his head to stare at the boy's slender back. He had a strange feeling in his heart, as if he knew something and couldn't say it.

Shen Ke wore a thin down jacket wrapped in a Barcelona jersey, sat in the audience in a daze, and when he saw Carlos coming, he also raised the flag.

"Give me something." Carlos said to him from outside the fence.

The audience is also familiar with this young agent, he speaks humorously and without losing measure, Carlos usually only uses two "um" in interviews to perfunctory, so he has become an important press spokesman for the Barcelona midfield, and the quick and accurate handling of things has always been appreciated by the European media.

Shen Ke just saw the camera sweeping to himself, happily ready to do something to show himself, but was stunned by Carlos's words, he spoke in Chinese, and the agent who had been shouting and wrapping in Spanish and English couldn't help but digest it before reacting.

He picked up his jersey, pulled it out of the pocket of his down jacket, took it out, and threw it to Carlos, who stretched out his long arms, held them in his palm, and nodded at him.

Shen Ke waved the flag at him again and raised his eyebrows: "Go ahead." ”

The spotlights on the pitch were bright and didn't create shadows at all, and Carlos scratched his hair as he walked, his eyes downcast.

The audience also delayed the end of the show, sitting in their seats and watching his every move.

Rijkaard touched his flat head, took a sip of water, and sat in the coach's seat, thinking about how to deal with the media later.

With everyone watching, Carlos made his way to Chelsea's camp. He walked slower and slower, and five metres away from the Chelsea crowd, Carlos stopped, hesitated, and held his grip tightly, still not looking up.

After a long time, Carlos heard a rustling sound in his ears, mixed with the noise of the audience, getting closer and closer—it was the sound of sneakers rubbing against the turf.

Seeing that he had not moved, Oleg sighed, smiled apologetically at his teammates, and walked over. But when it came to the front, the "little prince of free kicks", who had been talking a lot and optimistic, was speechless.

It's so close.

They were so close to each other during the game and then the ball flew off his side and his misjudgment put an end to Chelsea's Champions League campaign.

In the end, I am still unwilling. Every player cares about winning or losing the game, and so does he.

The shouts and shouts of the tsunami, the applause and whistles, the expectant eyes and gestures were all gifts to the champions, who longed for success and became a great player to be remembered, so he left Barcelona.

He was selfish to go to Chelsea and start over, but he had no choice, and Barcelona would not give him resources until the captain retired, no matter how good he was.

Two days before the first leg at Stamford Bridge, he had gone to a pub for a night of drinking, and when he returned, he left his car at the door and walked down the street alone, when the rain in London fell unexpectedly, like a hole in the sky. The rain splashed many blisters on the road, and he crouched down to try to puncture it, but he fell to the ground because he was too strong to drink.

The pedestrians were busy hiding from the rain, and only he laughed in the rain like a madman, and laughed and laughed and cried, but the rain was too great for anyone to see, and he sat there satisfied, from late night until the early hours of the morning, until the rain stopped.

His phone was already in the water, and he stumbled back to the pitch for training, but he didn't have the strength to play football at all. The team doctor quickly checked him, he had a high fever and his condition was impaired, and the coach was distressed to ask the assistant to announce that he was absent from the next day's game.

At that moment, he had some undetectable luck in his heart.

It's nice not to have to play against Carlos.

He and Carlos haven't been in touch for more than half a month, and in the past, even if they were busy, they would talk to each other at least for two days, big and small, messy things, they would share and talk, but such a game made him fear and escape.

They were born in the youth together, ate the same nutritious meals, slept in the same dormitory, when he was picking up girls at night, Carlos would draw under the lamp and wait for him to come back, carry the ladder for him, and always stare at him so that he couldn't be lazy when training.

From Carlos's eleven to sixteen years old; From the age of sixteen to twenty-one, what a long time.

Carlos then became Barcelona's midfield number 23 and he moved to London to become Chelsea's forward number seventeen.

When Bella called, he was on a drip at the team doctor, she asked him why he was absent from the game, he □□ the needle out of his vein, and replied with a smile: "I recently met a Cambridge sister, blonde, very beautiful, I asked her out for dinner, but it rained heavily when I went back, no way, of course, I can only send the Buddha to Xiluo, and give the umbrella to others, which Cheng thought about it and caught a cold, alas, you think about it." ”

The tiny slit on the back of his hand kept bubbling red blood, and he heard Bella tease him, and then he took the initiative to find an excuse and hung up the phone.

Where are the beauties of Cambridge, only passers-by who are afraid that he will go crazy in the rain.

The needle-tip potion dripped intermittently on the ground, like the rain outside the window, and he hoped that the rain would keep falling, and that his illness would heal a little more slowly, and a little slower, preferably......

It can make him selfishly absent from the game again.

However, after a slight defeat in the first leg by Chelsea, he quickly recovered, and by the time he arrived at Barcelona, the weather had been sunny for a long time, and the coach told him to play well and not be disturbed by external objects.

He nodded and went out, but somehow made his way to La Masia. There were no games at Camp Nou that day, and it was quiet in La Masia's academy, with some youngsters practicing on their own on the playground, just like he and Carlos back then.

There is a coach who came to tell him about the skills and methods, he didn't know, the coaches who had taught him and Carlos had gradually left, La Masia was not the La Masia of the year, he heard his name come out, and the coach encouraged every child with football dreams with successful youth training objects.

The youngster's eyes were full of innocence and hope, and he listened carefully to the coach's words.

He dusted himself off and went back to the hotel.

In today's game, seeing that Carlos was affected by him, he impulsively made an encouraging gesture towards the little golden retriever when he made free throws, and the players did not blame him for such a move, but patted him on the shoulder.

Thinking of this, Oleg felt a little relieved, and now that Carlos was standing in front of him, Oleg moistened his throat and said, "Yes...... Looking for me? ”

Carlos nodded, finally reluctant to take his eyes off the instep of his foot, he looked at Oleg apprehensively, and then stretched out his hand: "Here you go." ”

It was a lollipop they all loved, the rainbow flavor that Oleg had given him at the beginning, with a circle of colorful colors, but it was discontinued three years ago.

Oleg stared at it for a long time, then took it and asked, "It won't expire, right?" "He hasn't eaten this flavor in a long time, and now he loves oranges.

Made to cry and laugh by his nervousness, Carlos finally regained the feeling he had when he got along, punched him and said, "I'm their spokesperson, if you want to eat this flavor, you can't bring it to me?" ”

Oleg smiled, peeled off the candy wrapper, and ate the lollipop on the court: "It's delicious, it's full." ”

As if all the wins and losses didn't matter, Carlos raised his dimples in relief and said, "I got a box and put it at the front desk of your hotel, remember to get it when you go back." ”

Oleg stared at him, then took off his sweaty jersey and handed it to him.

Carlos looked at him quizzically.

"Swap jerseys, Carlos." Oleg raised an eyebrow, which was a little funny.

Carlos nodded, took off his jersey, and swapped the two.

The media frantically snapped pictures with telephoto lenses, and it was truly the most moving exchange of jerseys in years, with all the fans shouting and applause resounding over the Camp Nou the moment they donned each other's team uniforms.

When we meet, we smile and enmity each other.

Su Qingjia wiped her tears and hugged the pillow very tightly, she couldn't stop her fullness, and her tears fell like rain.

There are many twists and turns in the way of a boy's growth.

Once it's called □□ love, and once it's called friendship.

Her boy worked hard to become more and more mature, and in the best possible way, he preserved the most sincere feelings for each other.

In the middle of the night in France, the same first quarter moon hung in front of her window, and she seemed to feel the sea breeze blowing from Barcelona and the sweet smell of lollipops in the air.

The rainbow-flavored lollipop is a beautiful thing that rises after the clouds fade after a heavy rain.

It's like Carlos and Oleg's friendship.

The two are about the same height, but there is still a big difference in physique, Oleg's jersey looks good on Carlos, but Carlos's on Oleg becomes tight.

The little golden retriever smiled and hugged Oleg, the blonde and brown hair contrasting and looking harmonious.

Oleg was a little angry by him, and thought of something, and said: "Eh, let go of me, I'm a man with a normal personality, if someone says I'm bisexual tomorrow, I have to beat you, little golden retriever, hurry up, let go of me." ”

Carlos slapped him a few more times to let him go, smiling as he screwed up in his jersey.

Oleg was holding a lollipop in his mouth, and he also felt that his navel had been leaking, so he pulled his clothes dryly, and hummed: "This year's World Cup, do you want to be together?" ”

"If I could." Carlos replied.

The two looked at each other and smiled, their hands struck each other in mid-air, making a crisp sound, and then each walked to their teams.

The captain stood on tiptoe and hooked Carlos's neck and said, "I can't see it, little golden retriever, I have a good emotional intelligence." It's just that the clothes stink. ”

It's a group of old men who have just finished playing, and their bodies are stinky, Carlos shook his hand away and said, "You stay away from me, you're covered in sweat." ”

Everyone couldn't help but laugh again.

Walking back to the locker room, the coach simply said a few words of summary, and everyone went back, and the prize money from the quarterfinals was still very rich.

Several single aristocrats were thinking of being presumptuous for a while.

Carlos didn't follow them, and Shen Ke drove him back to the villa at the door.

He took a shower, looked at his jersey and put it in the washing machine.

He's got another shirt in his closet, from Chelsea's away no.17. It's beautiful, and he likes it.

The next morning, all the newspapers were raving what had happened last night, except for The Sun, whose headline gave an unbelievable piece of news.