You Are Not Spare Parts

Lin Ye returned to Coastal Stadium the following afternoon. The doctor had ordered seven days of rest, but he pushed open the clubhouse door with his left hand. Conversation stopped. A champagne cork exploded over his head. “Welcome, our wild-card hero!” Han Yue emptied a sports drink over him. Teammates surrounded Lin, ruffling his hair and replaying his hit. Even veterans who rarely acknowledged reserves cleared locker space. His small nameplate—67 LIN YE—had been moved from the corner to the starters' section, beside Zhou Yan's. Zhou was absent. “Follow-up exam,” Tang Xiao said. “And he's avoiding you.” Lin gave a bitter smile. His pain had fallen to forty-one, but a strange aftereffect remained.