Chapter 689 - 614: No Delayed Payments

Chapter 689: Chapter 614: No Delayed Payments

Han Zhilu shouldered his schoolbag, gave Chen Yu a deep bow, then turned and quickly ran off.

Castelli’s gaze followed Han Zhilu, and he curiously asked what answer Baggio had given the boy.

He felt that after the phone call, Han Zhilu was like a completely different person.

Having worked in youth academy systems for many years, Castelli had seen countless kids. He felt that before, Han Zhilu’s expression held the confusion, uncertainty, and apprehension about the future that was typical for a teenager.

But after that phone call, it was as if Han Zhilu had suddenly found his purpose in life. His gaze became incredibly resolute.

"It wasn’t much," Chen Yu said with a smile. "Robert said that he has persevered until now simply because he loves the game."

Castelli nodded. That’s what he had guessed.

With all of Baggio’s injuries, he would have retired long ago if it weren’t for his passion.

"By the way, what about his family? Do we need to intervene?" Castelli asked.

During his scouting trip in China, he had met many people and seen many things, giving him a preliminary understanding of the country’s entire football ecosystem.

In Europe, for example, many parents were willing to let their children pursue a career in professional football. This was because, with a relatively stable social safety net, becoming a professional footballer was a highly cost-effective path.

If you had the talent and succeeded, you’d become a star watched by millions.

Even if you didn’t make it to the top, a place like the United Kingdom had over a dozen league tiers, a huge number of teams, and plenty of football-related jobs that paid well.

But it was different in China.

The entire country had so few teams. Even at the top, like in the Chinese Super League, the income was limited. If you were filtered out in the cutthroat selection process, it was very difficult to find a job related to football.

In China, the return on investment for pursuing a career in professional football was just too low.

That was why Castelli completely understood why Han Zhilu’s parents didn’t want their son to pursue a career in the sport.

He himself had been filtered out back in the day and had no choice but to switch careers and become a Trainer. If he’d had a massive fortune to inherit, he never would have gone down the path of football at all.

"That won’t be necessary."

Chen Yu shook his head as Han Zhilu’s figure vanished in the far distance. "He’s a smart kid."

Chen Yu figured Han Zhilu had already thought of a way to persuade his parents long ago; he just hadn’t been able to commit. His own appearance had helped solidify that resolve.

At the end of the day, he truly couldn’t give up football. He was genuinely passionate about it.

Castelli didn’t press the matter. As long as Chen Yu had it under control, that was all that mattered. He then asked where they were headed next.

"To the Northwest. They have a decent football foundation there. You’ll stick to the list and carefully select a batch of kids for me who can run and have talent. You’ve been in this line of work for many years; I trust your judgment."

"As for me, I won’t be going with you. Someone’s desperate for treatment and has been calling me a dozen times a day. I have to make a trip back to the United States."

Chen Yu waved his phone. "Speak of the devil, it’s ringing again."

It was Rob Barbercock, the Raptors’ newly appointed general manager.

The perpetually injured Carter was hurt again—a strained right Achilles tendon.

And that was just the Raptors’ official public statement. As far as Chen Yu knew, the MRI results were not promising; the tear was more severe than they were letting on.

It wasn’t the kind of injury he could recover from with just a few weeks of rest.

The crucial part was that the new GM, Barbercock, had been trying to trade Carter all summer. Rumor had it they were close to a deal, but this injury would directly impact his trade value.

The reason he was so desperately trying to contact Chen Yu was that he wanted the "miracle doctor" to provide an authoritative endorsement, to prove that Carter’s injury wasn’t a major issue.

Under these circumstances, Chen Yu had no choice but to go back.

Besides, the new season had been underway for a month, and some players were already starting to get injured.

Then there was the football world. The Five Major Leagues were two or three months into their seasons, and players were getting worn out. It was prime time for injuries.

Take Trezeget, for instance. The week before last, he fell during a match against Udinese, landing first on his left shoulder, which dislocated again. After lengthy discussions between his team and the club, they finally decided on surgery.

His left shoulder had dislocated three times in three seasons. This was no longer a simple dislocation but a chronic issue caused by problems with his shoulder muscles and tendons, leading to habitual dislocations.

He needed surgery to release and repair the adhered tendons.

Then there was the Brazilian, Edmilson, who had just joined Barcelona. He injured his right leg while landing after challenging for a header. He’d sprained a collateral ligament and torn his meniscus, and he’d already been laid up in Chen Yu’s clinic for several days, just waiting for Chen Yu to return and perform the surgery.

Mourinho, who had taken the helm as Chelsea’s manager this year, also called upon their old friendship and sent another patient to Chen Yu.

Didier Drogba.

After moving from Ligue 1 to the Premier League this year, he immediately struggled to adapt. Not long after the season began, he developed a groin problem. He’d strained it once in September, and less than two months later, he’d strained the exact same spot again.

Seeing that his own team’s medical staff couldn’t sort it out, Mourinho simply sent him to Chen Yu to resolve the issue for good.

This was exactly what Chen Yu meant when he told Han Zhilu that the path of professional sports was difficult and cruel. Most players’ careers were intertwined with injuries, and many ended up riddled with them, forced to quietly fade away from the sport.

"By the way, Hunter," Chen Yu said, remembering something and turning to Hunter behind him. "Send the invoice for all recent expenses to the Sports Bureau and have them settle the payment."

The preliminary work, Chen Yu’s personal visit, the scouting trips everywhere—all the travel, lodging, and daily costs for the entire staff would be compiled into an itemized bill to be paid by the Sports Bureau.

"Tell them to pay promptly. We don’t accept payment delays."

Chen Yu added.

This topic had happened to come up in a previous conversation with Su Jun.

At the time, Su Jun had joked that there were advantages to Chen Yu doing business with the Sports Bureau. For domestic companies dealing with the government, collecting payment alone could mean waiting half a year to a year.

But when it came to Chen Yu, an international company, the Sports Bureau probably wouldn’t dare to delay payment.

Because if things went wrong, it could escalate into an international dispute, which would reflect poorly on them.

Chen Yu didn’t care what the business practices were for companies in China; he had his own rules to follow. If he didn’t, the Internal Revenue Service wouldn’t let him off the hook.

As Chen Yu traveled through Yuehai on his way out of China, the Sports Bureau received the invoice from Pioneer Sports.

When his secretary presented the relevant documents to Yuan Weimin and asked for his opinion, Yuan Weimin couldn’t help but flip through the report, which was over a hundred pages long.

"Their accounting is quite meticulous," Yuan Weimin muttered, seemingly offhandedly.

The secretary silently wondered if there was a deeper meaning behind Yuan Weimin’s words, but he just nodded with a smile. "Even Director Wang from the Financial Management and Audit Center said so. He said Pioneer is very professional. Every expense is crystal clear, much better than many domestic companies."

Yuan Weimin nodded slightly.

Professionalism was exactly what was needed.

Many domestic companies operated with a "that’s good enough" attitude, which always ended in a mess of muddled accounts.

This was much better. With Chen Yu’s team, everything was transparent and laid out clearly.

Briefly flipping through the pages, Yuan Weimin noticed substantial travel expenses. Chen Yu’s side had deployed a lot of people, who were crisscrossing the country to conduct their scouting.

Yuan Weimin didn’t sign. He handed the documents back and gave the secretary a few names to notify for a brief meeting later to touch base. Then, after a moment of thought, he asked, "Xiaolin, do you think they can actually find suitable players with this scouting method?"

Yuan Weimin had been keeping an eye on the entire process: they would send official requests for local sports bureaus and sports schools to cooperate by submitting lists of names.

It seemed they also leveraged media connections, since the news would sometimes report on a prodigy emerging somewhere.

After that came a wide-ranging screening process that had them crisscrossing the country.

On the surface, this screening method seemed quite similar to the existing one, which gave Yuan Weimin a slight reservation.

It wasn’t that he was afraid of spending the money; the project itself had support from above.

His main concern was wasting time.

If they selected a group of players, trained them for a year or two, and then they didn’t make the cut and were sent back, those two years would have been completely wasted.

There were no do-overs in life. Two years in an athletic career, not to mention it being two years of these young people’s prime, was definitely not something that could be easily dismissed.