To be honest, Ye Chen felt a stirring of recognition when he glimpsed the woman's exquisite eyebrows and captivating eyes. Her features radiated a remarkable blend of elegance and fierce charm, hinting that beneath the mask, she might be a beauty who could turn heads. He was certain he had never met her before; after all, he had yet to encounter anyone from this beautiful country.
"No need for that," Ye Chen said with a smile, exuding confidence. "I'm just thrilled to have the attention of boxing fans." He exchanged another fist bump with the old man, then turned and walked away, a lingering feeling of curiosity at the back of his mind.
"Hey…" The disappointment in his father's voice cut through the air. His daughter, sensing her father's unease, shot him an anxious glance and called out after Ye Chen, her worry evident. He glanced back, waved a quick goodbye, and hurried toward the exit, his heart racing with the excitement of the day.
The woman stood biting her lip, looking toward where Ye Chen had vanished. "Ye Chen… how's his name spelled?" she wondered aloud, pulling out her phone. Her eyes darted to the big screen, eager to capture the moment before it changed to feature the next contestant. In seconds, she snapped a photo and began searching for him online.
"Only a bit less than 100,000 followers, huh?" she remarked, a hint of surprise in her voice. "Seems he's not that famous yet." Little did she know, garnering such a following in just two months was quite an achievement. After all, even seasoned fighters like Gazi and Zhang Weili struggled to match that kind of social media traction. The world of combat sports still sat in the shadows compared to the glitzy realms of internet stars and mainstream athletes.
With a flick of her thumb, she sent a private message, eagerness bubbling within her that she couldn't quite contain…
Meanwhile, Ye Chen hardly anticipated that the woman would be so persistent. The truth was, he had turned down her gift not out of rudeness, but because he felt uncertain about his next moves. He was well aware of how fragile moments of fame could be; even a simple pack of tissues could momentarily stroke his vanity.
After a quick detour to the lounge, he took a refreshing swig of water and called home, anxious to reassure his worried family.
"Xiaochen, is the opponent you were fighting alright? I heard he was seriously injured. You didn't hurt anyone, did you?" his mother's voice came through the phone, laced with concern. It was classic; she hadn't even thought to ask how he was but focused solely on the other fighter. His parents likely hadn't caught on to the language nuances, but bits of the commentary must have reached their ears.
He could hear his father mumbling in the background, dissatisfied that his wife had inquired about someone else instead of their son.
"Mom, Dad," he said quickly, trying to ease their worries, "It's all part of the competition. Injuries happen, but the medical team is top-notch, and the opponent is fine. Trust me, I'm doing great!"
While Ye Chen reassured his parents, chatter erupted from fans and critics alike over his spectacular performance. Social media buzzed with highlights, sowing heated discussions among enthusiasts. Short clips flooded Douyin, each sparking reactions—some astonished, others incredulous.
Back at the Linhai Hongda Training Center, a group of seasoned trainers gathered, their faces a mix of confusion and admiration as they processed what they had just witnessed.
"When did Ye Chen become this formidable?" the head coach mused, his brows furrowed in thought. The others exchanged bewildered glances.
Lin Long, accustomed to sparring with Ye Chen, expressed his disbelief. "I always thought he was decent, but his skills in wrestling and Jiu-Jitsu were lacking... What just happened?"
The head coach slammed his fist against the mat in frustration. "If only we had realized his potential sooner. This kid could have been a star!" Their realization stung; none of the training centers in China could boast of cultivating a champion, even if one of their athletes made it to the UFC. That distinction alone would have been enough to elevate their status to a coveted one.
It dawned on them that their priorities were skewed. Lin Long, once their marquee athlete, had missed his chance to shine, while Ye Chen, the underdog they had dismissed, now stood in the spotlight.
In a luxurious living room, six or seven suits crowded around a gleaming screen. Two figures stood out—one dark, one fair. The seasoned fighter Wusman and the illustrious UFC agent Ali were familiar faces in this realm.
"What's your take on Ye Chen's performance? Does he have what it takes?" Ali asked, his gaze fixed on Wusman as they reviewed the video footage.
With wide eyes, Wusman mulled over the highlights, visibly impressed by Ye Chen's precision and quick reflexes. "He's incredible! His accuracy is unnerving, and his counterattacks seemed like they were choreographed. In the lightweight division, if he stays clear of tough opponents, he could break into the top ten."
The atmosphere in the room shifted; the others nodded in agreement, recognizing the potential he had just unraveled. Ali's brows knitted together in thought as he proposed, "We need to sign him. After Mahar retires, we'll need someone to claim that lightweight belt."
As the gravity of his words sunk in, the excitement in the room escalated. They might just have stumbled upon a future champion—and Ye Chen's journey was only just beginning.