On the first day back at training, something strange happened at De Toekmost.
From the moment Yang Yang walked into the Ajax training base, everyone noticed the same thing — he couldn't stop smiling.
He smiled when he greeted the receptionist. He smiled when he bumped into teammates in the hallway. He smiled during warm-ups, through the physical checkups, and even while struggling through the gym circuit.
"Is he alright?" head coach Ronald Koeman asked with a puzzled look.
"I don't know," murmured Ruud Krol, furrowing his brow. "You'd think he just won the World Cup."
"But that's just it," someone else chimed in. "He did just win the World Youth Championship."
Still, it wasn't like Yang Yang to act this way. Everyone knew he was level-headed — modest, serious, even when things went well. But today? Today, he was grinning like someone who'd just won the lottery and a lifetime supply of happiness.
In the gym, Winston Bogarde observed him closely. Most players grit their teeth through strength training. Not Yang Yang — he was doing reps with a goofy smile on his face.
Was it the training volume? Was he not being pushed hard enough?
"Yang, what's going on with you today?" Bogarde finally asked.
Yang Yang gave him a wide grin. "Nothing, Coach. Why?"
"You've been smiling like that all morning."
"I'm happy," Yang Yang said, as if that explained everything. "When I see you happy, I get happy. Unless you'd prefer I cry during deadlifts?"
Bogarde blinked, trying to process that logic. "No… but…"
Still confused, he let it go — though the mystery remained.
It wasn't just him. Out on the training pitch, even while doing shuttle runs and stair sprints, Yang Yang smiled the entire time. It was starting to spook the others.
"What the hell did he eat for breakfast?" someone muttered.
"Is he on something?"
The curiosity finally broke when Vermaelen — clearly irritated — snapped.
"He's in love, alright?" he said. "Went out early this morning to run with his girlfriend. Took her to some island or something, then brought her home and acted like he was starring in a drama. The guy's high on romance."
That explained everything.
Every player in the squad had been in love at some point, but none of them had ever radiated this much unfiltered joy. Yang Yang practically had hearts floating over his head.
"I'm guessing we're no longer invited to morning runs, huh?" Maxwell added with a sour laugh. "Now we've been replaced by an island jog with his goddess."
It wasn't just envy — it was admiration.
They'd always known Yang Yang to be focused, almost single-minded. But now? Now he was a young man in love, and apparently, even a tightly wound player like him could act like a grinning fool when swept up in it.
"I'm in a great mood," Yang Yang said with a teasing smile. "So I'll forgive all your bitterness today."
That only made it worse. Everyone groaned and laughed at the same time.
"It's definitely his first love," someone whispered. "No one smiles like that otherwise."
Word eventually reached the coaching staff. Koeman, Krol, and the rest all had a good laugh about it. No one saw any problem — quite the opposite.
"Players are people too," Krol said. "They have the right to feel something other than stress and exhaustion."
Bogarde nodded thoughtfully. Of all people, he'd noticed it first — the way Su Ye had looked at Yang Yang, and the way Yang Yang looked back at her. Their time together had been brief, but there had always been something unspoken and genuine between them.
And now? It was official. Yang Yang was in love — and everyone could feel it.
...
...
Although it was only the first official training session of the new season, the rules at Ajax remained the same — discipline was non-negotiable.
After completing medical evaluations, a handful of players failed their physicals, drawing a sharp rebuke from head coach Ronald Koeman.
But no one was surprised. Every year, after a long break, a few players came back out of shape. It was almost expected. Self-discipline over vacation was rare in football — the ones who maintained peak condition during holidays were the exception, not the norm.
As long as they could be whipped back into form during the early weeks of preseason, the coaching staff wouldn't push too hard.
Koeman voiced his frustrations as usual, then turned to more important matters: introducing the team's newest signing.
Standing beside him was a tall, athletic figure — a 1.87-meter Ivorian midfielder with broad shoulders and a powerful build. Koeman introduced him as Yaya Touré, younger brother of Kolo Touré and a recent arrival from Metalurh Donetsk in Ukraine.
Even standing next to Koeman, Yaya looked imposing. The coach had the look of a man settled into middle age. Yaya, on the other hand, looked like a tank ready for battle.
Ajax's original target for midfield reinforcement had been Demy de Zeeuw, the rising star at Go Ahead Eagles, but Louis van Gaal had convinced the player to choose AZ Alkmaar instead. With that avenue closed, Ajax pivoted quickly and decisively to their backup plan — Yaya Touré.
They paid €3.5 million to bring him in — a significant fee by Eredivisie standards. Metalurh Donetsk had been reluctant to let him go. Their offer included a lower base fee plus a percentage of a future transfer, but Ajax chose to pay more upfront and take full ownership.
It was a clear signal: Ajax believed in Yaya Touré.
After introductions, captain Tomáš Galásek led the newcomer around the squad, presenting him to each player.
When he reached Yang Yang, the Ivorian midfielder straightened instinctively.
"Hello, Yaya," Yang Yang said with a friendly smile, extending his hand. "Happy to be teammates."
Yaya had known of Yang Yang, of course — everyone had. He was younger, but already the undisputed star of the team, and now a national hero back in China. He stepped forward immediately and shook his hand firmly.
"Thank you," Yaya said in fluent English. "I'll do my best to support you, and to contribute however I can."
Yang Yang nodded and offered a brief embrace. "We help each other. We work together."
Their exchange was short, but respectful — and for Yaya, it left an impression.
Because Ajax had restructured heavily the season before, their transfer activity this summer had been limited. The main priority was not a signing — but rather retaining Yang Yang, whose agent Mino Raiola was still in the Netherlands working on an extension.
Yaya Touré was the only signing of note, and the club hoped he would provide physicality and control in midfield.
Smart business at low cost — that remained the Ajax way.
After Koeman concluded his remarks, the coaches broke up the squad to begin the day's session.
Yang Yang wandered toward the edge of the field, dropped to the grass, and began unstrapping the black sandbags from his calves. They looked like sleek knee supports at first glance, but each one weighed three kilograms — training tools custom-prepared for him by Winston Bogarde.
He wore them during individual drills and conditioning, but removed them for team training to stay within regulation.
From a few steps away, Yaya watched curiously.
He had assumed they were just compression sleeves — but when he saw Yang Yang remove them and stretch out his legs with ease, he realized the truth. They were weighted. Training props. And Yang Yang had worn them not just in warm-ups, but even while running stairs and doing laps earlier.
Yaya narrowed his eyes slightly.
He had heard the stories — about Yang Yang's work ethic, his rise at Ajax, his international performances — but this small moment told him more than all the headlines combined.
This guy didn't get here by accident.
Whatever shred of pride Yaya might have been holding onto — the instinct to compare himself, to think he'd come from a tougher league or a harder path — began to dissolve.
Looking around at the rest of the squad, he realized something else: none of these players were easy to replace. They were young, talented, and more driven than they appeared.
He lowered his head and made a quiet promise to himself.
Time to work.
...
...
Though it was only the first morning session of pre-season — just the beginning of Day One — a lot had already become clear.
The biggest point of interest was, unsurprisingly, Yaya Touré.
At first glance, he looked like a classic physical presence: tall, broad-shouldered, with excellent body strength. But when the drills began, something more surprising stood out — his feet.
Despite his size, Touré's touch was quick, and his control smooth. During ball-carrying exercises and midfield possession drills, he frequently surged forward with the ball at his feet — not clumsily, but with purpose and fluidity. He moved like a heavy tank, yes, but one with surgical precision.
He wasn't just a bruiser. He was clearly a footballer — and a very good one.
You didn't get Ajax to spend €3.5 million on you in the Eredivisie unless you had real quality. Today confirmed it.
Fitness coach Kruitenberg, who had joined Ajax the previous September, had finally gotten the chance to oversee his first full summer program.
Unlike the winter break midseason, which was too short and too disruptive, this was his chance to implement a full foundational regimen — and he had come prepared.
The players noticed immediately: the gym sessions were longer, heavier, and more intense than in past summers.
Kruitenberg believed that Ajax, while technical and quick, had suffered from a lack of strength training, particularly in midfield and defense. Too many times last season they had been physically bullied off the ball, especially in European matches. That had to change.
He introduced several new modules to address exactly that — and the squad felt it immediately.
The grumbling started fast.
But Kruitenberg wasn't inflexible. He understood that some players needed tailored plans. In Yang Yang's case — having just come off a demanding summer, including the FIFA World Youth Championship — Kruitenberg gave him a buffer period of a week. He wanted Yang Yang to slowly readjust before ramping up the load.
This drew the envy of his teammates.
"Not fair," they mumbled behind his back. "He's skipping gym."
Kruitenberg didn't flinch.
"You want rest? Win a world championship like him," he snapped. "Then I'll let you skip the gym, too."
No one had anything to say after that.
They returned to their weights and resistance bands in silence.
World champions, after all, don't grow on trees.
Yang Yang, for his part, wasn't trying to escape the work. In fact, he was already easing back into training by choice. Whether it was resistance drills, stair sprints, or gym circuits, he endured it all with calm focus.
He didn't complain. He didn't even grimace.
He had been living like this for over two years — sweating, aching, grinding through pain most players only touched in short bursts.
Eventually, as Winston Bogarde had once told him, you stop noticing the weight.
"You wear those sandbags long enough," he had said, "and they don't feel like anything anymore."
And that's when you know you've leveled up.
Not when it gets easier.
But when you get stronger.
...
...
When Yang Yang was conducting his first training session in the new season in Detok Most, Raiola was talking with Ajax director Arie van Eijden in the office opposite the Amsterdam Arena 500 meters away. Engage in a fierce confrontation.
The two men negotiated on Yang Yang's contract treatment for several days in a row. Some progress has been made in some areas, but some areas have fallen into stalemate, and neither side will give up.
Ajax needs Yang Yang, this is no doubt.
But the negotiating table is another battlefield.
Both Arie van Eijden and Raiola need to fight for their own interests, or even fight each other.
...
The messages began pouring in right after morning training ended.
Yang Yang had just finished his cooldown when he checked his phone and saw a string of texts from Su Ye — each one like a postcard of her day.
"We just came out of the Van Gogh Museum. It was so moving."
"I feel like I've read Van Gogh's whole life in there. Every painting felt like a story."
"It's a shame you're not allowed to take photos inside. I really wish you could see it too."
"Now we're heading to the Anne Frank House."
"Remember how that Bertelsmann book club kept trying to sell The Diary of Anne Frank? I always wanted to come see this."
"I still kind of want to go to the Red Light District… but, haha, maybe we'll do that together someday."
"We just reached Dam Square. They say there's a really good Chinese restaurant here."
"But I think Sister Yuzhu is right — if you're traveling, you should taste the local food. No more Chinese food."
"Except… she forgot that Uncle Shen Ming runs a Chinese restaurant. She's been scolding him all day."
"In the afternoon, we're planning to do the canal tour. There's just so much to see in Amsterdam — not enough time."
"I also want to go to Almere… to the place you live, the park where you practice, the schools you went to, your old club. I want to know everything about you."
"Is that too greedy?"
That morning, Wei Zheng and Shen Yuzhu had taken a small group — Yang Yang's parents, Shen Ming and his wife, Su Wenhong, and Su Ye — on a sightseeing trip around Amsterdam.
Yang Yang, of course, had to stay back at De Toekmost for pre-season training. As the unofficial sponsor of this family tour, he could only follow their adventures through photos and text messages.
But as he scrolled through Su Ye's updates — full of joy and little side-comments, personal and sweet — he couldn't stop smiling.
She had even sent a few pictures.
In one, she was laughing beside a canal. In another, she stood with her family in front of the museum entrance.
But the third one — a candid photo of just her, hair lightly tousled, sun catching her cheek — made Yang Yang pause.
She looked like something out of a dream. Beautiful, gentle, real.
Without hesitation, he saved the photo and set it as his lock screen.
Then he typed his reply:
"Greedy, but… I like it."
"Take your time. No rush to come home — enjoy everything. Stay as long as you like."
A few seconds later, her reply arrived.
"How was training today? Did you eat lunch yet? Don't push yourself too hard."
Even though it was just text, Yang Yang could feel the warmth radiating from the screen. Every message she sent felt like a hand reaching out to his, even across distance.
And once again, he found himself grinning uncontrollably.
Across the table, Mino Raiola had been sitting in silence, watching Yang Yang with mild exasperation.
The super agent cleared his throat and tapped the table — twice.
"Ahem," Raiola said, "Would you mind respecting the fact that I'm right here?"
Yang Yang blinked, looked up from his phone, and smiled sheepishly.
"My bad," Yang Yang said with a grin, setting his phone down and locking the screen. "Go on. I'm listening."
Raiola raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"You were saying Arie van Eijden's being difficult?"
"Yeah. Ajax's stance is tough," Raiola said, folding his arms. "They're willing to offer special terms — bonus structure, image rights flexibility, and so on — but they want to push the release clause to €50 million. I want to keep it at €40 million."
"Why?" Yang Yang asked, his tone shifting into something sharper.
He had deep respect for Ajax — the club that gave him everything. They had helped him grow into the player he was. The last thing he wanted was friction over contract details. Whether it was about a future transfer or a new deal, he didn't want bad blood.
But at this point, it wasn't really his direct fight. It was Raiola versus van Eijden. That was the benefit of having an agent: you stay offstage while someone else handles the messy business.
Of course, it all depended on how good your agent was. Some agents brought disaster. Raiola, however, was a tactician — and aggressive when needed.
"Why forty?" Yang Yang asked again.
"If we keep it at €40 million, we leave room for flexibility," Raiola explained. "It gives us leverage with clubs like Arsenal, Liverpool, Bayern, even a few from Serie A. They can work with that figure."
"But if it's €50 million?" Raiola shook his head. "Add in salary expectations and you've priced yourself out of most serious options. That kind of fee only attracts the very top clubs — Real Madrid, Barcelona, Chelsea, Manchester United. And let's be honest, that's not what you need next."
Yang Yang nodded slowly. He understood.
"Real Madrid's a mess internally," Raiola continued. "Barcelona's got Ronaldinho, and they're bringing up Messi. You go there, you're either stuck on the bench or treated like a sideshow. That's not what you deserve."
"Reputation matters, yes. But platform matters more. You're about to turn 19. The next club needs to build around you — not bury you behind someone else."
Yang Yang didn't argue. Raiola's point was clear: get the fee right, and you control your destiny.
The Italian paused, then added, "Look, if I really wanted to force Ajax to budge, I could."
Yang Yang raised an eyebrow.
"All it takes is a whisper to the press — something vague about talks stalling, or other offers coming in — and suddenly Ajax is on fire," Raiola said. "But I know you don't want that."
Yang Yang gave a soft laugh. "No. Definitely not."
He'd grown up in Quanzhou, where business was in the air, and people spoke in numbers. He wasn't obsessed with money, but he understood its language. And more than that, he understood reputation. A career might last twenty years. A name? A legacy? That could last a lifetime.
Ajax had never shortchanged him. Not the fans. Not the club. He wouldn't betray that.
"Mino," he said, "we can concede a bit on salary."
Raiola's face tightened. "I've already dropped a lot."
"How much are we asking now?"
After a long pause, Raiola sighed. "I was aiming for €40,000 a week after tax. Dropped it to €30,000."
Yang Yang blinked. "And you'd settle for...?"
"Lowest I'll go is €25,000, net."
"Twenty-five?" Yang Yang echoed.
"For context," Raiola added quickly, "Van der Vaart had the highest in club history — €20,000. And let's be real, he didn't have your numbers. Didn't win what you've won. Not at your age."
Yang Yang didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"I mean, we're talking about someone who just won the UEFA Cup, the Eredivisie Golden Boot, European Golden Shoe, and World Youth Championship Golden Ball and Golden Boot. You think they don't know Ajax can't afford to lose you?"
"If they sell you now," Raiola said, "they'll crash out of the Champions League. Maybe even drop out of European football altogether."
Yang Yang didn't disagree. Raiola was pushing hard, yes, but he was doing it for the right reasons. Still, he held firm.
"I'm serious. Salary can be adjusted down — within reason."
Raiola gave him a long look, then finally chuckled. "I knew it. You've got too much heart to bleed them dry."
"I just don't want to poison the relationship," Yang Yang said.
"Alright," Raiola nodded. "But I'll handle the negotiations my way — slow pressure, no big compromises. I won't cross the line."
"Fair."
"You're generous," Raiola added. "But people need to know where the line is. Otherwise, they'll keep walking past it."
That, Yang Yang could agree with.
He rarely involved himself in contract talks directly. Raiola knew his wishes, his limits, and had full authority to act. That arrangement had worked well so far.
"If the time comes where I need to speak publicly, just give me the signal," Yang Yang added.
Raiola grinned. "Much sharper than Ibrahimović ever was."
"Oh?"
"Not IQ," Raiola clarified. "It's awareness. Balance. Maybe it's your education, maybe just who you are."
Yang Yang smiled, but said nothing.
"Oh, and one more thing — be careful when you register at Rotterdam School of Management. Might be a Feyenoord fan or two waiting to snipe you on campus," Raiola added, half-joking.
"Come on," Yang Yang laughed. "It's not that dramatic."
"And lastly, no letting love interfere with training," Raiola said, raising a finger. "Romance is fine. But your body comes first."
Yang Yang was confused for half a second, then understood the jab.
"Seriously?" he muttered as Raiola stood up to leave.
The agent just smirked as he walked away.
Yang Yang shook his head.
"Unbelievable," he muttered. "This guy..."
...
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