In Henry's mind, there were at least ten million questions, but at this very moment, these questions seemed to undergo a magical chemical reaction, canceling each other out.
As he met Cao Baming's gaze, Cao Baming was also staring intently at him. Henry could discern the meaning behind the other's eyes: concern.
This was genuine concern. He was clearly worried about whether Henry had sustained a serious injury, but why?
Ultimately, Henry chose to stand up without a word and greeted Cao Baming. After all, they were old teammates, and there was no need for conflict. These were minor matters, and the pain in his chest was not a broken rib, merely a bruise from the impact.
Upon standing, Henry quickly turned and walked towards an unpopulated area, aiming to clear his mind.
He had clearly felt like he had hit a steel bar just now, so how could it have been Cao Baming's physical body? Did such a physique truly exist? And after crashing into him, he hadn't budged an inch. This clearly wasn't a physical confrontation; it was more like a one-sided collision.
After much thought, there was only one explanation for the current situation: Cao Baming's body had become even stronger than before, far exceeding the scope of human understanding.
In an instant, Henry's eyes filled with fear. This was a fear from the depths of his heart, and it didn't matter that they were teammates. It was a fear born from encountering something purely extraordinary.
The match resumed its normal course, and Henry, after this defeat, became disheartened. Consequently, this practice match turned into Cao Baming's solo performance.
Although this match wasn't like previous major games with thousands of spectators watching, performance wasn't solely about the audience. The most important element was the performer themselves. As long as one felt the joy from the bottom of their heart, it was all worthwhile.
At this very moment, Cao Baming was experiencing this feeling. Moreover, compared to previous simulations, his experience was now much more seasoned, and the results he achieved were effortless, many times better than before.
Time ticked by, and the coaching staff looked on in astonishment at Cao Baming's performance.
Was he truly in recovery? His current strength did not resemble that of someone who had just returned from a break and was participating in their first training session. He seemed more like someone who had quietly improved himself over the past week. And by normal standards, it was impossible to explain such significant progress.
The coaching staff had nothing to say. Despite their mutual surprise and shock, there was no communication among them because they didn't know how to describe their current feelings, and even if they could, they wouldn't know what to do.
However, one thing was undeniable: everyone unanimously favored their upcoming Champions League match against Bayern Munich. Cao Baming had to play in this game.
This was exactly as planned, with no significant changes. Seeing this scene only increased their conviction and certainty; this decision was absolutely correct!
The practice match concluded as evening approached, with the final score reaching an unbelievable 26:3!
While one could explain this score by saying the players weren't taking the practice match seriously, the players on Cao Baming's own team knew whether they had played earnestly or not. They were certainly aware of it, and no outsider could truly gauge it.
Furthermore, the opposing team was not some ragtag group or players merely going through the motions. They had been assigned randomly and included core players like Henry, Odegaard, and Saka.
To outsiders, it might seem like they weren't playing seriously, but they themselves knew they had tried their very best. They had been thinking about how to equalize the score, and only later did they give up on that idea, merely hoping to salvage some dignity.
By the end of the match, imperceptibly, everyone had lost that mindset. Even if they played seriously, they couldn't maintain it. At the very least, they had to appear as if they weren't playing seriously, so that onlookers might perceive them as feigning effort.
The coaches verbally accepted their explanations, saying they hadn't taken the practice match too seriously. But the truth was different, something they themselves knew, and Cao Baming certainly knew as well.
Looking at the sky, the color gradually deepened, and in the distance, the shape of the moon could already be seen.
The sun at this moment was not the familiar golden hue of dusk. Instead, it had a very pale, ice-like color.
Without specific directional judgment, it was difficult to distinguish whether the white circular disk nestled between the clouds was the moon or the sun.
There was still some time before sunset. Cao Baming bid farewell to his teammates and left the field.
This had always been his habit. After any team training session, he would leave directly after the match, without waiting or listening to the coach's lengthy remarks. Other players sometimes stayed for an hour or two, and sometimes even late into the night.
This unique independence was Cao Baming's exclusive privilege. Although others envied it, they could only keep their envy hidden.
Why hide it? The reason was simple: even if they didn't hide it, who would they tell? Telling anyone about it was likely of little importance.