008 biting off more than one can chew

Throw. Catch.

Throw. Catch.

The brown, oval football flipped up and down in Li Wei's hands like a yo-yo a child plays with. Without any sign of disdain for the scattered debris he passed by, Li Wei returned with a tranquil expression, his face brimming with a smile as refreshing as a spring breeze.

He even nodded lightly in acknowledgment, much like a superstar responding to enthusiastic fans at a concert.

That recent sprint wasn't far, starting from the midfield line to the end zone, about fifty yards. Li Wei casually tested himself.

His explosive power and sprinting ability were indeed outstanding, but he felt there was still potential to be unearthed. Li Wei found himself tiptoeing slightly, like a boxer gearing up for a match, looking forward to the growth and transformation that would come with professional training.

Before long, Li Wei had reached Allen's side. Spotting Allen's slightly disheveled appearance, with his jersey dirtied in contrast to Li Wei's cleanliness, he saw Li Wei's genuinely sincere smile and felt it to be particularly earnest.

"Sorry, I didn't keep my promise. I assure you, next time the dance will definitely happen," Li Wei said with a smile.

Allen: …

Is it okay for him to swear?

But Allen ended up laughing, "Ha, that was just a careless mistake. This time, there won't be any rookie benefits, oh. If you want to make me dance, you might need to put in a bit more effort."

Li Wei revealed a row of neat teeth, smiling radiantly.

It was only now that Allen truly sized up Li Wei—

With a refreshing visage, clear-cut features, he stood apart from the typical burly brutes. Instead, he had the grace of fine calligraphy, exuding an effortless scholarly air that was sunny and carefree. Wherever he stood became a highlight.

Allen had indeed judged a book by its cover, completely caught off guard by Li Wei; but not this time. He was ready for a strong counter, almost foreseeing the crumpled end coming for Li Wei, with a smirk creeping up his lips.

"Come on, scholar. Let's see how well you can dance ballet," Allen beckoned, moving back to his position while still displaying his magnanimity, giving Li Wei a step of distance—albeit slightly wider this time around.

But now, fully on guard, his mental state was devoid of any contempt.

Li Wei turned around, returning to the midfield line, looking ahead. The first thing he did was to habitually grasp the spatial positioning; the four players' positions were not drastically different, just a slight tightening of the formation, hardly noticeable—perhaps a step or a half-step forward at most, trivial in such a spacious field.

But Li Wei didn't take it lightly.

Being on his own without cover meant that a tighter formation would signify faster starts for hits and interceptions, and denser defense.

He needed to be cautious.

Li Wei glanced at the sidelines. Now that he had decided to take on the challenge, true to his nature, he was all in. He wanted to see the limits of his abilities, so impressing coaches like Burns and Saban was the first step. Perhaps now was the time to show a different side of himself.

The opportunity was just right.

So, Li Wei stood on the midfield line, his right hand delicately feeling the football's leather—

He still wasn't used to it.

Because the football was oval-shaped, holding it in one hand wasn't easy. Plus, considering Burns's emphasis on avoiding fumbles, Li Wei immediately realized that maintaining possession amidst powerful tackles must be a significant part of football, implying that ball protection skills were necessary.

He tried it out for himself, enveloping the football's pointed front with his palm and pressing the tapered back against his forearm, using the clamping force of his arm and body to form a secure hold.

For now, he'd just try it out. He could always ask the coaches or teammates later.

Unbeknownst to Li Wei, this scene caught Saban's eye, shining with approval—

Not only was his ability to learn impressive, but his willingness to delve deeper was apparent. Most importantly, he grasped the essential nature of a running back's role in fiercely contested moments: to protect the football.

Saban thought, "He can be taught."

Ready to go, Li Wei looked forward, making slight adjustments.

"Attack!"

Without hesitation, Li Wei issued the command.

This time, his pupils immediately caught Allen's movements, the whole process of starting, surging forward, stepping up, and applying pressure executed seamlessly.

Allen, in his professional mode, displayed top NCAA defensive abilities, charging at Li Wei like a sudden stormy onslaught.

So, what about Li Wei?

He didn't dodge or avoid; not only did he not, but he also moved forward to meet it head-on.

At a glance, Li Wei's running route seemed no different from the first time; a closer look revealed that while the first time Li Wei ran in a straight line without avoidance, purely relying on absolute speed to break away before colliding, this time Li Wei sprinted along a slight left diagonal, heading straight for Allen.

Like using an egg to hit a rock.

Gasps.

The audience exclaimed in shock—

They had seen fools, but they had never seen an idiot as foolishly reckless as Li Wei; in terms of height and weight, for Li Wei to clash with Allen was downright suicidal.

If this were a formal game, with offensive and defensive groups blocking and covering for each other, the force of the impact would inevitably be weakened and interfered, and a head-on collision might be somewhat bearable. But now, without any cover, it was a simple head-to-head duel of strength against strength.

This...

Was too painful to watch.

Some players, unable to bear it, averted their eyes, not wanting to witness the impending tragedy, yet they never expected the cries of surprise that followed right after.

It wasn't shock or sorrow but a voice mixed with astonishment and joy.

Those who had looked away or shut their eyes quickly opened them in disbelief:

What just happened?

How could Li Wei possibly think to use an egg against a rock, when even those with no knowledge of football knew he stood no chance against Allen head-on?

During the head-on rush, Li Wei could even see the excitement in Allen's eyes, clearly such events were not rare in formal games, resembling a hawk swooping down on a chick.

However!

Just as the head-on collision was about to occur, Li Wei took a half step to the right—

Capturing the split-second difference in timing, he shifted his position, turning what would have been a head-on collision into a glancing touch of the left shoulder.

Allen, still powerfully strong, but due to the last-moment misalignment before the collision, his bulk became a hindrance, entirely unable to adjust his center of force in such a small range, resulting in an inadequate charge from his left shoulder.

Hmph.

With a grunt, Allen felt Li Wei's charge; there was no retreat, no fear, like the horn of a rhinoceros he charged without hesitation and without diverting from Allen's intent, his left shoulder becoming the pivot, the two forces offsetting one another—

One force from Li Wei's left shoulder moving upward.

One force from Allen's own right shoulder pushing forward.

Without any time to react, the next second Allen spun around clockwise like a top.

Ah, ah, ah.

Is this ballet?

Allen felt the world spin, turning clumsily, the world rotating rapidly, he was dizzy and disoriented, flailing his arms as though performing a traditional Russian dance, moving his hands and feet in an attempt to grasp balance, but still he fell down with a crash.

Damn it!

Allen, utterly disheartened.