The Posillipo district of Naples, only known as the Bay Area.

  The sea breeze blew the floor-to-ceiling curtains in the bedroom, crag, and Sánchez woke up in the bed at home.

  At the Christmas di night, he drank some wine, came back te, and fot to close the sliding door on the baly.

  He got out of bed, put on a coat, and walked out of the bedroom to the baly, where the blue sea stretched out in the distance.

  The sea in Naples was as blue as the sea in northern Chile, but there were nhters passing by from time to time, and there were more silhouettes of mountains and peaks on distant isnds.

  Before he k, he had lived here for almost half a year and had grown aced to it.

  Sometimes, he even blurred the memories of his time in Chile.

  The only thing he reminded himself was that he couldn't go back to the past, no matter what.

  That thought motivated him to work hard on the field.

  ...

  When he first came to o rent a house, he immediately fell in love with this three-story home by the seaside and half the mountain.

  The house was a bit old, and the decor wasn't particurly luxurious, but it was , tidy, and fortable. You could see the sea as soon as you stepped outside, just like in his hometown.

  His mother, family, and stepfather loved it here. They lived on the sed floor, leaving him with the third floor all to himself.

  His younger siblings were all studying in nearby schools, which the club had arranged for them.

  Sáill remembered when his family first arrived in Naples. Gao Shen had e to visit and told him that no matter what, he had to make sure his younger siblings tinued with their education, so they'd have a way forward in life.

  Both Sánchez and his mreed with the coach. Even though his siblings were relut, they still got into school.

  He hoped they would go to uy, fi jobs, aablish themselves in Italy and Europe, so they wouldn't have to return to Chile.

  Of course, he also thought that if he saved for a few more years, he could return to Chile and live fortably.

  After all, the gap between the rid the poor there was enormous.

  His teammate Vidal had a clear pn. He said that once he earned enough money pying football in Europe, he would go back to Chile, buy a rge farm, hire a lot of workers, and focus on farming after he retired.

  Sáhought this was a good idea, but he still hadn't figured out how to bee a qualified farmer.

  ...

  After washing up, he went down to the sed floor. Before he could even step off the stairs, he heard the sounds of his younger siblings arguing.

  School was out for vacation, so all the kids were at home. Right now, they were pying with the game sole he had brought home the night before.

  When it came to reading, they were terrible, but when it came to pying games, they were gehey didn't o be taught how to ect wires or troubleshoot—they figured it out faster than anyone else.

  Seeing how eic they were, Sánchez decided not to join them.

  He went down to the first floor and saw his mother and stepfather standing by the door, chatting.

  "What's going on?" Sánchez asked curiously.

  He noticed a very special gift box oable in front of his mother.

  "You're awake." His mother turned around in surprise when she heard his voice. "Your coach was here."

  "Really?" Sánchez was surprised and looked around, but there was no oo be seen.

  "He left already," his mother replied quickly.

  Sánchez frowned. "Why didn't you call me?"

  "He didn't want to disturb you. He said he was just dropping off a gift."

  With that, his mother and stepfather stepped aside to reveal the rge gift box with an intricate ese knot on it. Although Sánchez's family didn't uand the symbol, they always thought it had a positive meaning.

  "He said it's a ese tradition. During the New Year, they always visit and give gifts. He didn't want to disturb us on Christmas, so he dropped it off early today. I ope it's tea, a por tea set, and a bottle of wine."

  Sáepped forward aly touched the outer ing of the gift box, feeling warmth in his heart.

  Last night, he hadn't heard anything about the coach visiting.

  Thinking of this, he quickly pulled out his phone from his pocket, found Gao Shen's number, and called.

  "Hey, you're awake?" As soon as the call ected, he heard Gao Shen's hearty ughter.

  "I just woke up, boss. Why didn't you call me when you came over?"

  "It's nothing."

  "Where are you? I'll e find you."

  "I'm oskirts of Naples. My god, avaro lives so far away," Gao Shen said with a bitter smile.

  Sánchez couldn't help but ugh.

  The boss was visiting all the pyers one by one.

  He remembered Gao Sheioning that, in ese schools, teachers would visit students' homes. They called it a home visit.

  ...

  As Sánchez made the call, Gao Shen had indeed left the city.

  This was quite the project.

  The game sole from st night had been arranged by Gao Shen, paid for by the club. But today, this was his personal effort.

  He had asked Su Qing from a to help prepare the gifts. Price wasn't a after all, these were New Year's gifts for his pyers, and it would be better if they had some ese characteristics.

  ...

  Strictly speaking, this was the first Christmas since Gao Shen had e to this world.

  In his memory, st Christmas, he had been living alone in a rented apartment in Madrid.

  There was no other choice he had been all alo the time.

  Now, things were different.

  Many people had invited him to spend Christmas with them.

  For example, the Carlos family had invited him baadrid. Lucas had also invited him home. And Sánchez and other pyers staying in Naples, knowing he was by himself, had exteheir invitations too.

  Even Sacchi called to ask if he wao spend Christmas together.

  But Gao Shen politely deed all the invitations.

  On Christmas Day, he stayed home alone and pyed games.

  World of Warcraft also had Christmas events. As soon as Gao Shen's knight, Zidane, logged in, he saw a familiar figure waiting for him at the Ire bank.

  Mourinho.

  o guess, this shadow priest was Su Qing.

  "Why are you so te? I've been waiting fes," Mourinho sent a private message.

  Zidane replied, "There's a time difference, I just woke up."

  "Hurry up! I'm taking you to farm some new gear today. You o s out that old stuff. I've never seen anyone as zy as you either fishing or cooking all day long," Mourinho pined.

  Zida a ughing emoji, boarded a gryphon in Ire, and flew to the South Seas.

  On the way, he sent another message to Mourinho: "How's your Fabregas doing?"

  "Almost level 40."

  "..." Zidane eechless.

  Gao Shen began to reflect was he too id back?

  Iy, he had already pyed through World of Warcraft before. This time, it was mainly to py with Su Qing. The dition was that all of Su Qing's characters had to be named by Gao Shen.

  For instance, her priest was named Mourinho, her mage was Fabregas, and she had a druid named Van Nistelrooy. Gao Shen himself had an elf druid named Adriano and a warrior named Zambrotta...

  In his previous life, naming his characters after football stars was one of the greatest joys he found in pying World of Warcraft.

  It was the same now.

  Although Su Qing eechless, she still listeo him.

  In World of Warcraft, Mourinho's character was much more advahan Zidane's.

  There was no test Su Qing had a whole group of friends helping her.

  At the beginning, Mourinho and Zidane had leveled up slowly together, starting from Northshire Abbey.

  But for some reason, their cssmates found out about their characters, and Mourinho's power leveling took off. She was quickly rushed through to Bg Lair, where she didn't miss out on any top-tier gear her priest was fully decked out.

  Zidane, oher hand, could only py occasionally due to his busy schedule. Fortunately, he didn't care about leveling up. Instead, he enjoyed fishing, cooking, and other leisurely activities.

  Mourinho had asked for his at several times, saying she would help him level up and run dungeons, but Zidane refused.

  Left with no other choice, Mourinho started leveling a mage, Cesc Fabregas, g that mages were better at power leveling others.

  "I've mapped out the best leveling path. Don't waste time cooking or fishing today follow me and farm the gear. Then we'll grind some monsters and quests to level you up quickly," Mourinho instructed.

  "Zidane nodded solemnly, 'I listen to you, Mr. Mourinho.'"

  So, on that day, at the gates of the Horde's Uy on a particur World of Warcraft server, one could see a ical sight: an Alliance padin named Zidane, riding a pony because he didn't have enough money for a proper mount, wandering around while the Horde pyers with their green faces and fangs looked on in curiosity. Occasionally, one of them would run rin menagly, and make as if they wao devour him.

  Zidane was utterly speechless. Uo unicate with them, he had to resort to ag tough, only to be ambushed by a rogue lurking in the shadows.

  There was nothing he could do time to spirit run after another death.

  "I think it's a disgrace that someone as dignified as Zidane is getting bullied like this in World of Warcraft," Zidane grumbled.

  Mourinho, riding her little dark horse, giggled the whole way.

  God knows why the Horde pyers weren't b her.

  "Mourinho, let's go back to Ire. I want to duel you!" Zidane cried out.

  What frustrated Zidane even more was that the shameless pyers who had ambushed him were noing his body, waiting to kill him again...

  Damn it, I just want to do some Scarlet Monastery runs, is that too much to ask?

  Left with no choice, Zidane tinued his death-and-resurre cycle.

  After a long struggle, he finally made it to the gates of the Scarlet Monastery, esg the relentless harassment from the Horde pyers, only to find himself fag the brutal NPside.

  Seriously, is this day never going to end?

  What an unfettable Christmas.