"This way! Over here!"
After Kai entered a high-end restaurant on Nerudova Street in Prague, he spotted Anne Hathaway waving at him.
He walked over with an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry. I don't have much experience dining at places like this. I wandered around for ages trying to find it. It's terribly improper to keep a lady waiting."
Hathaway was amused by his overly serious, little-grown-up manner.
"It's fine," she laughed. "I was the one who invited you. I should be the one waiting."
Tonight, Hathaway wore a black chiffon dress — elegant and stylish — a new spring–summer design from Chanel.
Her mother was an actress and dancer, and her father a lawyer. A typical middle-class family. Hathaway had already appeared in a television series with good reception, so she was considered an emerging star and paid close attention to her public image.
In contrast, Kai wore the red-and-green Portugal U16 training kit. Casual — almost too casual for a date in a luxury restaurant.
Kai sat down and said sincerely, "You look amazing today. That dress suits you perfectly."
The waiter beside them nodded silently.
This kid knew what he was doing.
Telling a girl "You're beautiful" is like writing "Solution:" in a math exam — it doesn't add points, but you'd better include it.
But saying "That dress suits you perfectly" is the real high-IQ move.
Every beautiful girl already knows she's beautiful.
What she wants to hear is that she has taste.
"Thank you," Hathaway replied gracefully. "You look great too. But I think that's because you're handsome."
Complimenting a boy's clothes is useless.
Call him handsome.
Every man in the world believes he's handsome. The only difference is whether he chooses to dress like it.
"You're too kind," Kai grinned. "I have to look presentable if I'm being treated to such an expensive dinner."
He took a sip of his drink and added, "I have to report back to the team after this. If I change clothes, I'm afraid I won't be allowed into the training base."
Hathaway pretended to pout. "So I invited you out just to hear you flatter me?"
"Isn't that what queens deserve?" Kai replied dramatically. "Future Oscar winner."
She burst out laughing.
Neither of them noticed that across the street, on a rooftop, several cameras were snapping photos.
"I got it! Finally got something good!" whispered a paparazzo.
"Gary Marshall is directing The Princess Diaries. Everyone thinks it'll be a hit."
"Several young actresses competed for the lead role, but Anne Hathaway won it."
"We came to catch some behind-the-scenes footage — and instead we caught her on a date!"
"Not valuable now," another added, "but once the movie releases, this will be gold."
One of them squinted through his lens.
"But… her boyfriend looks younger than her. And shorter."
"He showed up in a jersey? That's way too casual. Doesn't he take her seriously?"
"Rich kid? Overconfident? Hathaway's the dream girl of American boys."
On the same rooftop, a photographer from The Sun rolled his eyes.
"Don't talk nonsense if you don't understand football," he muttered.
"Do you know what he's wearing? That's the official Portugal U16 national team training kit. You can't even buy that outside."
The American paparazzi perked up.
"Wait. He's a national team player? Does he actually matter?"
The Sun reporter smirked.
"Sporting CP youth academy."
"Portugal U16 international."
"Best midfielder in the Portuguese U15 league."
"UEFA Youth League Best Player."
"University of Lisbon scholarship student."
"The so-called 'Football Caesar.'"
"The brains behind Manchester United's treble miracle."
"Chinese player."
The American reporters stared at him.
Compared to Kai's resume, Hathaway suddenly looked like the less famous one — at least for now.
This was a jackpot.
The Sun reporter sighed theatrically.
"Looks like European models lost to an American princess this time."
Kai, who was practically inseparable from Cristiano Ronaldo, had come alone tonight.
If that wasn't young love, what was?
Pure puppy love between a football prodigy and a rising Hollywood princess.
The Sun could finally run something wholesome instead of page-three nonsense.
Both parties were satisfied with their "cooperation" and continued shooting.
After dinner, Kai and Hathaway walked along the street for a while.
There was no physical contact.
Kai had excellent control over boundaries with the opposite sex.
Hathaway, however, seemed slightly disappointed.
Later, he escorted her back to the hotel where the crew was staying, then took a taxi to the training base.
When he arrived, Ronaldo was crouched outside the dormitory, vomiting.
Kai felt touched for a second.
"You actually drank that much for me?" Kai asked.
Ronaldo waved weakly. "No. I just didn't expect that drinking too much Coke would make me puke…"
Kai immediately took three steps back.
"How's your form lately?" Kai asked. "Has it declined?"
Ronaldo snorted. "I'm at least 50% stronger than when I played against Atlético Madrid. You probably can't even breathe my exhaust fumes now."
He suddenly narrowed his eyes.
"Why do you smell nice? Is that perfume? Chanel No. 5?"
Kai turned and walked quickly toward the dorm building.
"Don't randomly throw around brand names. And stop drinking Coke like it's holy water."
Ronaldo followed.
"Because soda causes calcium loss and fractures in professional players?"
"No," Kai replied calmly. "Because too much Coke can kill you."
They shared a dorm room.
Ronaldo suddenly sniffed the air again.
"Wait… were you on a date?"
"No."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Not dating a girl?"
"Yes."
…
The next morning, a rolled-up newspaper smacked Kai in the face.
He opened one eye.
Ronaldo stood beside his bed, furious.
"This is what you meant by 'not dating a girl'?!"
Kai blinked and unfolded the newspaper.
Headline:
"Portugal's Chinese Wonderboy Kai Enjoys Late-Night Date with American Disney Princess Anne Hathaway! No Physical Contact — A Pure Fairy-Tale Romance!"
Kai stared at it.
"…Ronaldo."
He sat up slowly.
"Before you get angry… listen to my explanation."
Ronaldo crossed his arms.
Kai coughed.
"…Okay. Fine. It was technically dinner."
Ronaldo's eye twitched.
"Dinner?"
"Yes."
"With perfume."
"…That wasn't mine."
"Sure."
Kai raised both hands in surrender.
"Alright. I'll treat you to dinner tonight."
Ronaldo's expression changed instantly.
"High-end restaurant?"
Kai narrowed his eyes.
"You're pushing it."
Ronaldo grinned.
"Good. Then I'll forgive you."
Kai lay back down.
What a disaster.
One innocent dinner, and now the whole damn world thought he was starring in a football fairy tale romance.
If this kept up, he wouldn't just be Football Caesar.
He'd be crowned Prince Charming too.
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