Golden Greenery

Remember [67♂书÷Bar] in one second, and read wonderful novels for free without pop-ups!

The city of fashion, the city of art, the city of literature and art, these are the labels of the city of Milan. As one of the eight largest cities in the world, Milan’s prosperity and cultural scenery need no introduction.

About 40 kilometers northwest of the outskirts of Milan, the clear lake and quiet forest make this place look like a good place for an outing. However, the lake and forest are just part of the artificial construction here.

The loose building complex covering an area of ​​160,000 square meters perfectly integrates nature and modernity. The lake is only its inner lake, and the forest is only its exclusive territory. This is the largest football training base in Europe and a place of pilgrimage for all Red and Black fans ‘Nathan Rory’.

——Milanello!

The Alps are clearly visible in the distance, and the flat and wide two-story central building in the Milanello base stands out under the scorching afternoon sun with its white walls and red tiles. In a large room on the second floor, there were many single-seater sofas placed around a circular table. At this time, eight or nine men were sitting around chatting. They vary in age, some look to be nearly fifty years old, while others are only in their early twenties. The only thing they have in common is that they all speak Italian.

"The boy is already here. He arrived in the morning. But..." the short, stout man with a beard said while rolling the unlit cigar between his lips. “But he didn’t come here first, he went to the Milan Conservatoire.”

"I also know. He didn't even ask his agent to pick him up. Their Six Musketeers... Ricardo, he went to pick him up." A vicissitudes of life man in his forties took over. "Ricardo, that's great. Oh, by the way, Franco, do you think it's possible for the Prime Minister to buy this Montolivo?" He turned to ask the oldest balding middle-aged man present.

"Probably not, we and Juventus...the Prime Minister will not be so careless." Franco, a bald man, said. From where he sits and everyone's attitude towards him, it can be seen that he is the most prestigious person here.

"Fuck, 78 million, it's fucking unbelievable when I think about it. I still think the team should strengthen the defense. As for the front, I think it's enough." said the lean and handsome man.

"It's a dick, who doesn't seem to understand your little thoughts, Pipo?" The bearded man curled his cigar while curling his lips. "Even if I give you the main force, do you dare to say that you can last for ninety minutes in a season?"

"Can't you fucking spit out that piece of shit? It's like chewing shit in your mouth." Pipo, a handsome man, retorted. "Ivan, if you want to fucking pull out and hide, just don't let Franco and Paul catch you."

"Please take care of me, I just like to put balls in my mouth and chew shit. Bulu, Bulu, Bulu..." The handsome man with the beard, Pibo, rolled his eyes at him.

"Pippo, don't think too much. It's a good thing for the team to strengthen its attack power. Zhuoyang is not here to compete with you for position. You guys have different styles." Paul is a tall and thin man with deep eyes. He said: "I think this China He is a much nicer person than the Ukrainians. He is very affectionate towards Madiburg. I like people who are affectionate and will definitely take this place seriously. Andrei’s prodigal woman knows money. I am not optimistic about his future. Prospects for England."

"Defense line? What's there to worry about?" The elegant and refined man curled his lips, but his words were not as delicate and subtle as he looked. "I'm here, isn't it enough? No matter the strength or appearance, it's amazing!" After saying that, the elegant and refined man took out a mirror and took a look.

Everyone collectively rolled their eyes at him.

"Rui can't help it. Zhuoyang is here. He really doesn't have much chance. He can't do it unless he leaves." The blond man who had not spoken much muttered. "In the World Cup, Rui actually played very well, and I don't think he is much worse than he was in Florence. Sleepy, what do you think?" he asked the sleepy, long-haired handsome guy next to him.

"It's reasonable for Rui to leave. It's also reasonable for Zhuoyang to come." Sleeping skin actually doesn't like sleeping.

He just has droopy eyelids. "To be honest with you, the team needs to be younger, and even younger, to be more reasonable. I'm not targeting everyone here, hehehehehe~"

"So what if you're just targeting me?" the bald man said: "I'm already 30, and they say I'm a young general, Brockie, and I'm a little fucking general."

"Chichichichichichi~" Sleepy laughed again, shrugging his shoulders.

"The team is a bit too old. If we really count the young people, that is, Kaká and Alberto are barely there... Oh, Zhuoyang is young." Balding Franco said: "Just look at what we are sitting here. These people, in addition to sleeping with tender skin..., it's time to recruit more people. Tell me, baton?" Franco looked at the forty-year-old man.

"How about adding Alberto and Daniel to our round table? It would be more lively if there are more people." said the baton.

"Alberto is not good yet. He has problems with his sense of responsibility and does not like to communicate with us. Let's see. Daniel... let him play the ball first and then talk about it." Paul disagreed. He was in this house. The prestige is as high as Franco.

"Then wait a little longer. It's better to be in a hurry than in a hurry!" The gray-haired old man sitting at the end spoke. Like Franco, he has been retired for almost ten years and is also one of the founders of this room. "Tell me Zhuo Yang, who among you knows him?"

Paul, Sleeping Skin, the bearded cigar man, the handsome Pipo, the vicissitudes of the baton, the elegant and refined man, the blond hair, and the bald Brockie all shook their heads: "I don't know, I haven't dealt with him before."

They are all people from wealthy families who know the depth and media tricks. Naturally, they will not believe what is in the newspapers, at least not in full.

"Speaking of which, I think I have a relationship with Zhuo Yang." Xieding Franco said: "During Zidane's Italian match at the beginning of the year, Zhuo Yang and I were teammates, but we didn't communicate much. I heard Qi Zu say , the person is not bad, very cheerful, and has a simple mind."

The bearded man held a cigar in his mouth and purred: "That kid is better than you, Franco. His No. 18 jersey has been sealed by Madibo, and he is only 21 years old. You are still buried in the ground." Our No. 6 jersey has just been retired. Bang Bang Bang Bang~" He smiled very strangely.

"Can't you fucking spit that shit out? Or swallow it!" Pipo was annoyed when someone talked with something in their mouth.

"Bulu Bulu Bulu~" Cute beard. "If you have the ability, just like Franco, you can also retire your jersey number in the future. Bulu Bulu~"

"My fucking number is 9. Have you ever seen anyone whose jersey has the number 9 retired?" Pipo was annoyed by the cigar man, but also liked to quarrel with him.

"I have seen it." The elegant and refined man said faintly: "Florence, Batistuta."

Pippo: "..." In fact, the retirement of Fiorentina's No. 9 jersey is just a proposal and has not been approved by Batty, who retired from football last year.

"Eh--, can Fiorentina compare with us? Can Fort Madi compare?" The blond man looked dismissively: "In a small place like theirs, it doesn't matter if they retire all numbers below 100, it's very casual. Paul, you No. 3 will definitely retire in the future, there is no doubt about it.”

A group of people were chatting away while discussing serious matters. Unknowingly, more than two hours had passed. When it was time to disperse, with a shout, everyone stood up and walked out of the door of the Round Table Club meeting room.

Bald man Franco Baresi, deep-eyed Paolo Maldini, weathered baton Alessandro Costacurta, gray-haired Mauro Tassotti, bearded cigar Ivan Gattuso, sleepy eyes Sleeping Andrea Pirlo, handsome Filippo Inzaghi, elegant and refined Alessandro Nesta, blond man Massimo Ambrosini, bald Christian Bro base.