Handsome position is not easy

Chapter 50 Journey
Looking up for the first time, Yang was sitting on the opposite seat, holding the blue Walkman and listening to music with his eyes closed.

Looking up for the second time, Yang was still in the same posture, holding the Sony Walkman with his hands like a hen guarding its chicks.

Looking up for the third time, Jan's head is slightly to the right than before, and the left earphone cable is wrapped around his thumb.

When he raised his head for the fourth time, Mourinho couldn't bear it anymore. He rubbed his temples vigorously, frowned and fixed his eyes on Yang. As for the record spread on his knees, Porto The report on the training data of first-team players is no longer attractive to him.

Mourinho was concentrating on observing Yang's movements when suddenly his right shoulder was bumped. Before his displeased expression showed on his face, Lake Babu leaned over and whispered:
"Don't bother, I've been staring at this little guy since an hour ago. Let's not talk about those who got on the bus to find a seat. After putting away the luggage, he nodded to us and put on the earphones. Now you guess What's the matter, his butt never moved over the nest! Can you believe it?"

Mourinho's lips fluttered a few times, and after thinking for a while, Lake Babu thought he was dazed, so he bumped him again.

"Uh, I don't have a child yet, how do I know this? Is this really rare?" He patted his forehead, gritted his teeth, and took a breath, "You said that, I also think It's not normal, it seems a bit unbelievable, so I just wanted to stare at it for a while..."

Lake Babu shrugged his shoulders, showing a narrow smile that is definitely not a gentleman: "With my appearance, the children will run away. I thought you already had children?"

"Stop joking, what the hell is going on?!" Mourinho glared at him angrily and said.

Lake Babu didn't think it was disobedient, he stretched out his hand and slapped the floating dust on his clothes that didn't exist at all, and said happily:

"I thought you knew everything with Mr. Robson, and you would be dumbfounded when you meet a child. Hehe, if you are an ordinary ten-year-old child, you can be so quiet when you take the train for the first time, then I can't even believe it.

But think about it the other way around, the father and son were so sad about parting before, it made me feel heavy now, he is the person involved, would it be better for you?Is it also reasonable? "

Mourinho curled his lips, and turned his face to the side angrily: "I thought you were going to tell me about the psychological problems of professional young players, but you are good, what's the use of saying that anyone can understand? I guess You are also an idiot in education, and you are here to spread knowledge with me..."

Lake Babu was stunned by his words, blinked and burst out laughing: "Okay, okay, then invite Mr. Jose Mourinho who is 'not yet a father', come here Tell me about his parent-child experience?"

"I don't have any experience. I can only care about him. What else can I do?" Mourinho squinted at Lake Babu, and suddenly thought of an idea, "Since you have said that, then Let me ask you something, after signing the contract at the club today, will Young go to the youth training camp to report?"

"The club has not specifically stipulated this, but generally speaking, don't non-local youth training players have to go to the dormitory first? Training or something will definitely not work today. At most, they will go to the base restaurant and future teammates first. Let's have a meal together, do you have any ideas?"

"Is there any idea? Yes, I do. What do you think of me taking Yang around Porto today?" Mourinho said hesitantly.

Only then did Lake Babb regain his energy: "This is a good thing. It doesn't take much effort to sign the contract. It's over after going through the procedures at the club. I'll say hello to the youth training base and return to the team on normal rest days. That's fine. But you, Mr. Bobby Robson, are there any problems?"

"I don't know, I'd better go back and ask first. You take Yang to sign the contract. If I'm done, I'll pick him up. If not, I can only wait for the next rest day."

"Don't worry, this is my job..."

Mourinho turned his head and saw that Yang was still in the same posture. He couldn't help but feel a little worried. He lowered his head and pinched his nose, and rubbed his fingers on the orbital bone a few times before he went up and lightly. Slapped the thighs that were raised together.

This was Yang's first time taking a train. He took a lot of effort to restrain his curiosity, and he didn't want to look like he had never seen the world. Sitting against the back of the chair in a comfortable posture, he also put his legs together to save him some space.

He had already listened to the tape of the classic Peking Opera repertoire. Not long after switching back to side A, he felt his knee being touched. He thought it was the uncle inside who wanted to go out, so he shrank his legs to the side again. shrunk.

It wasn't until he was photographed again that he realized that someone was calling him, and he opened his eyes cautiously, just in time to see Mourinho leaning over and looking at him suspiciously.

Yang hurriedly took off the earphones, and bit his lips in embarrassment: "Uncle Mourinho..."

"Let's call me Uncle José, the surname sounds weird... Ah, it's okay, I'm just a little curious, whose song are you listening to so fascinated, Roberto Riel? Or which young singer?" Mulini O thought he had frightened him, so he quickly opened his mouth and smiled at Jan.

"I'm not listening to music, Uncle, it's this one..." Yang pressed the stop button and turned on the Walkman, carefully squeezed out the tape and held it in his palm, "Uh, it's a traditional Chinese drama, Portuguese should be It's called 'Da ópera de Pequim' and it was left by my mother."

Mourinho was still somewhat interested in the colorful pictures and words on the tape. Hearing what Yang said, he withdrew his hand that was about to reach out, and said with a smile:
"Tapes, I really miss them, but don't young people like CDs these days, you are really a different kid. This 'Da ópera de Pequim', er, BJ's opera, can make me also Do you listen?"

Although Yang was very happy that someone could share with him this "loud" exotic music with a wide variety of instruments for the Portuguese, but considering Mourinho's tolerance for Peking Opera, he secretly turned down the volume , Wiped the earphones before handing them over.

"Uncle Jose, you should be mentally prepared, maybe you won't be able to accept it all at once..."

Mourinho rolled his eyes, and seemed to disapprove of this statement. He saw Yang's movement of turning the volume wheel, snorted heavily in his nostrils, stretched out his hand and swiped hard, and directly turned the volume down. It was full, and then pressed the play button with my own hands.

Yang's expression was very strange, half a smile but not a smile, and also a little helpless and intolerable.

The sound of the guide board in front is crisp and crisp, and the unique sense of rhythm is also very interesting to hear for the first time. Mourinho nodded repeatedly, as if he had tasted a little taste, and the brows flicked slightly.

Then Lake Babu and everyone in this row of seats saw an extremely surprising scene.

The sudden continuous sound of gongs and cymbals was magnified to a terrifying level under the blessing of full volume. Mourinho seemed to have his head caught between the two big gongs, and he was shaking upwards quickly. Standing up with a whoosh in fright, it was faster than mushrooms on the prairie bursting out of the ground in an instant, and it was not inferior to the acceleration of a rocket when it lifted off to escape gravity.

He took off the earphones at a speed that only human survival instincts could achieve, panted heavily with his mouth open, and looked around blankly.Seeing those puzzled eyes, Mourinho reacted, swallowed hard, and returned the earphones to Yang with lingering fear.

He stared at the earphones as if he was facing a tiger. This may be the first close contact between Mourinho and Chinese culture. No one thought that Beijing opera can also make people "frightened".

Mourinho touched the back of the chair and sat down slowly. He pressed his hands on the pinnae and moved a few times. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found that he could still feel the sound of wind blowing. Almost thought I was deaf.

"Little Rodriguez, tell me the truth, this thing is an opera?"

Yang spread his hands aggrievedly, pointed to the tape in the Walkman and said, "Uncle Jose, I swear, it's called that, I didn't just translate it randomly..."

"Okay, okay, I witnessed the development of the incident the whole time. Yang turned down the volume and reminded you that it was you who didn't like it and had to make yourself so embarrassing. Haha, you should really watch it What it looked like just now, I laughed so hard." Lake Babu couldn't help clapping his hands and laughing loudly as he spoke, he seemed to be afraid that the world would not be chaotic.

Mourinho glared at him in embarrassment, finally shook his head, and said to Yang seriously:
"This is BJ's opera, you can listen to it, but the sound must be controlled. You should also pay attention when holding the Walkman, don't accidentally touch the volume wheel. To be honest, it's really powerful. It's..."

Before he finished speaking, Yang pulled his sleeves. Mourinho looked at himself suspiciously, but he didn't find anything abnormal.

"Uncle Jose, you speak too loudly, as if you woke up the sleeping uncle..."

Mourinho was a little embarrassed, and smiled apologetically at the sleepy middle-aged bearded man next to him. He felt that he had never been so embarrassed.

But his idea was wrong, because his words would make the atmosphere even more embarrassing without counting Lake Babu who was eager to make up the knife.

"Excuse me, Mr. Marshal, can I complain about the noise? Yes, the guy next to me, hahaha!"

……

When the train arrived at St. Benedict Station, the clock hadn't passed eleven o'clock. The three of them were going to stop a taxi directly. Lake Babb wanted to take Young to complete the signing procedures as soon as possible, and Mourinho had to go to Rob Mr. Mori begged to come down for the remaining half-day short vacation.

In the grand hall of St. Benedict Station full of blue and white porcelain paintings, the footsteps of pedestrians echoed endlessly, so Yang's voice seemed even more inaudible.

"Hello, Porto."

　Yang's childhood story is about to come to an end, and a new storm has emerged. Continue to ask for collections and recommendations, and thank you book friends who persisted with me!
　　


(End of this chapter)