NABC Chapter 7 World-Class Sports Medicine Team
Chapter 7 World-Class Sports Medicine Team
As the last class in the afternoon ended, Wang Yueling had just packed her schoolbag when Cilang blocked her in her seat again.
"Ling, come to the tennis club and play a match with me!"
"Not today."
"Why?" Jiro asked, his voice tinged with grievance. "Tomorrow is Hyotei's first match in the Metropolitan Tournament, and Atobe won't let me play. I'm so bored~"
"If you're bored, go train."
"Training is even more boring!"
Wang Yueling was so bothered by him that she sighed and was thinking of playing ball with this clingy little lamb when her phone vibrated.
He glanced down and saw a message.
The medical team has arrived in Japan and is ready to arrange online meetings at any time.
He stared at the screen in surprise for several seconds, then looked up at Cilang and smiled apologetically.
"I really can't today. I have something very important to take care of."
Cilang pouted, but seeing Ling's surprised expression, he guessed that Ling indeed had something important to say, so he didn't continue teasing, only saying somewhat reluctantly, "What about tomorrow?"
"I have things to do tomorrow too."
"And the day after tomorrow?"
"the day after tomorrow……"
"You have something to do the day after tomorrow too!" Cilang spread his hands to the sides and answered quickly, his tone carrying a silent accusation.
Wang Yueling said with a mix of helplessness and amusement, "I'll definitely play with you after I'm done with this busy period."
"Pinky promise."
"How old are you to still be making pinky promises?"
"To pull or not?"
Wang Yueling was exasperated by his childishness and helplessly extended her little finger to hook it with his.
Jiro was finally satisfied and skipped off to the tennis club to participate in club activities, carrying his schoolbag.
By the time we returned to the main manor, it was almost dark.
Wang Yueling changed into a formal outfit and sat in the study, waiting for her grandfather's call.
The phone rang right on time.
"grandfather."
"Ling, how have you been lately?" Grandfather's voice came through the receiver, with the soft, characteristic French accent.
"That's good. My grandmother is also in good health; she even made me stewed beef today."
"That's fine."
After a few casual words, Grandfather got down to business: "The medical team arrangements are all set. I personally called the German expert."
"Thank you, Grandpa."
"Why are you being so polite with your grandfather?" His grandfather chided him playfully. "But I'm curious, who are you seeing this neurologist for?"
Wang Yueling remained silent for two seconds.
"A very important friend."
"What kind of friend?"
"A very important friend."
The grandfather listened to his beloved grandson's chuckle and laughed loudly on the other end of the phone, his laughter filled with understanding.
"Looks like you've found the reason why you can stare at tennis balls until midnight?"
Wang Yueling didn't speak.
Instead, he was surprised to find that tennis had been guiding him without him ever having his past life memories awakened.
No wonder I would freeze up whenever I encountered anything related to tennis over the past 15 years. It turns out I had forgotten so many things, including that person.
Seeing that the person opposite him remained silent for a long time, the grandfather coaxed him affectionately, "Alright, alright, I won't ask anymore. I don't interfere in the affairs of the young. But..."
He paused, then his tone became serious.
"No matter who it's for, the most important thing is yourself. I believe you won't let Grandpa worry."
"I know, Grandpa, don't worry."
After hanging up the phone, Wang Yueling turned on her computer and connected to a remote video conference.
There were four people sitting on the other side of the screen: two Westerners, one Asian, and a translator. The German expert looked to be in his fifties, with gray hair and a serious expression.
Wang Yueling greeted them in fluent German and Mandarin, and their expressions softened slightly.
"I'd like to consult you about a condition," he switched to English, "Guillain-Barré syndrome (GBS)."
He gave a general overview of Yukimura's situation: the onset time, symptoms, and current treatment progress. He didn't mention a specific name, only referring to him as "a friend."
After a brief discussion among the medical team, the German expert spoke up.
"Mr. Felix, with this information alone, we cannot make an accurate assessment. We need to see the complete examination data: nerve conduction velocity test results, cerebrospinal fluid examination report, electromyography, cardiac enzymes..."
"I understand." Wang Yueling nodded knowingly. "I will discuss it with the patient first, and if he agrees, I will contact everyone else."
"Okay. I'll wait for your message."
After the meeting ended, Wang Yueling leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes for a while, and breathed a sigh of relief.
A week ago, he used the resources of the Felix family to find three authoritative experts to treat Yukimura. The one in China agreed very easily, but Dr. Laurent in Germany was not so easy to talk to, and could be said to be particularly difficult to deal with.
In the end, he had to call his grandfather for help, and it was only through his grandfather's connections that the deal was reached.
Things have finally gotten off to a good start.
After finishing her business, Wang Yueling took a car back to her maternal grandmother's courtyard.
"Grandma, I want to visit a very important friend in the hospital tomorrow since it's a holiday."
Grandma was knitting a sweater while listening to a comedy show. Hearing this, she looked up at him and asked, "A new friend you met yesterday?"
"It wasn't them." He shook his head and sat down next to his grandmother. "It was another friend. He's very sick and has been in the hospital for a long time."
His grandmother looked at him, her gaze gentle yet filled with worry: "What illness? Is it that serious?"
"It's neurological. The situation is a bit complicated, but he's been trying his best to persevere."
Grandmother was silent for a while, then put down her knitting needles.
"How old is that child?"
"The same age as me."
"Such a young child..." The grandmother sighed with pity. "Tomorrow I'll make some suitable food for you to take with you. The patient can't eat anything too greasy. Let me see what I can make."
"Thank you, Grandma."
"Silly child, don't thank me." Grandmother took Wang Yueling's hand and patted it gently. "It's only right that Grandmother values a friend who is so important to you."
……
That night, Wang Yueling had a very vivid dream.
When I opened my eyes, all I saw was a white ceiling, white sheets, and white walls.
He lay flat on the hospital bed, his body seemingly nailed to the spot, completely unable to move.
He couldn't move his fingers, his toes, or even turn his head. Only his eyes could move, staring at the stark white fluorescent light on the ceiling, which stung his eyes.
The environment felt very...familiar.
!!!
This...this is the sanatorium from my previous life.
He stayed here for six years, the darkest six years of his life.
The door was pushed open, and someone walked in. His footsteps were very light. It was a former professional tennis agent. He was holding a bouquet of flowers and carrying a gift bag.
"Xiao Ling, another fan has sent a gift."
The gray-haired manager placed the flowers and gift bag on the bedside table, whispered about the interesting things that had happened outside, offered a few words of encouragement, said he would come to see him again when he had time, and then left.
The room fell silent again.
In his dream, he wanted to turn his head to look at the fan's gift, but he couldn't move; he wanted to speak, but he couldn't open his mouth.
The body is like an empty shell, and the soul is trapped inside, unable to get out.
That feeling of despair surged up again.
For a moment, he couldn't tell whether he had truly been reincarnated as Mochizuki Ryo in the world of Prince of Tennis, or whether he had always been Wang Ling, who was trapped in a sanatorium and suffering from mental instability.
He tried, he tried with all his might.
But his congenital metabolic disorder was like a towering wall, blocking all his efforts. Fans and the media were criticizing him, sponsors were abandoning him, the media was harassing him, and even his former business associates began to distance themselves from him.
He had seen the headline "The Fall of a Genius" far too many times.
Wang Yueling wanted to give up again.
Just when he was at his most desperate, the bag on the bedside table was blown over by the wind, and its contents spilled out and fell to the ground.
A yellow tennis ball bounced a few times and rolled to the door of the ward.
Then he heard a boy's voice.
"It's the end of the trial in an instant. The end of the trial... it's the end!"
It was Yukimura Seiichi's voice.
He had heard the voice countless times on the DVDs at the orphanage, the words spoken by that boy who was still smiling in his hospital bed.
"The moment a person gives up, the game is already over. So until the game is truly over... never give up!"
Wang Yueling stared at the yellow ball on the ground, and tears suddenly streamed down her face.
Yes!
That's why he started playing tennis.
He wanted to be like Yukimura Seiichi, someone who refused to give up or accept his fate, someone who could be vulnerable but would never admit defeat.
In the instant he understood, the person he was in his dream and the person he was in the real world became one.
……
When Wang Yueling regained consciousness, it was just before dawn.
The pillow was wet.
He lay flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the fragments of the dream still vivid in his mind: the white hospital room, the glaring fluorescent lights, and the tennis ball that had rolled to the door.
He took a deep breath, sat up, picked up his phone, and glanced at the time.
Five o'clock in the morning.
It's still early.
He put down his phone, went to the bathroom to wash his face, and the cold water washed away the last trace of sleepiness.
He looked at himself in the mirror; his eyes were a little red, but his gaze was clear.
There was only one thought in my mind.
Go see Yukimura.
Go now.