Mrs. Bonazzoli is undergoing leg rehabilitation at the Manchester Central Hospital Affiliated Sanatorium.
The old lady's long-standing leg condition had improved significantly, but she suddenly suffered a brain hemorrhage for unknown reasons and fainted by the lake.
The doctors wheeled her into the ergency room but couldn't reach her son, Bonazzoli.
Fortunately, when Tang Long brought Mrs. Bonazzoli to the sanatorium, he had the foresight to leave his contact information in addition to Bonazzoli's.
Because the players are completely cut off from the outside world during matches, Tang Long later also added Dilata's phone number.
Dilata received a call from the hospital during the halfti break while in the Sky Sports studio and was unable to reach Bonazzoli, feeling extrely anxious, she contacted Tang Long.
"Her mother has been issued a critical condition notice; are you guys in the middle of a match?"
Bonazzoli had just taken the field, full of enthusiasm, and this was a rare chance for him to perform. Tang Long couldn't bear to tell him, fearing it would affect his performance, so he directly asked Guardiola for leave and rushed to Manchester to assess the situation first.
West Brom's ho, The Hawthorns, is close to Birmingham, about 140 kiloters from Manchester, and the taxi ride took just over an hour. Tang Long dashed into the hospital.
It was already dusk, the last rays of the setting sun casting patches of mottled light through the long windows of the hospital corridor.
The sky outside was dyed orange-red, in stark contrast with the white walls inside the hospital.
Tang Long saw the team doctor, Gracie, talking with a doctor.
"Hey, didn't you go to West Brom?" Tang Long asked.
After a brief conversation with the attending doctor, Gracie pulled Tang Long to sit in the corridor's seating area.
"I didn't go, it wasn't my turn for this away ga. I'm in Manchester. I just got a call from the female reporter, so I ca here."
Upon hearing that Dilata had also notified Gracie, Tang Long nodded approvingly, internally praising Dilata's ticulousness.
The rooms in this sanatorium were in high demand, a spot secured through Gracie's connections at the University of Manchester, and given Bonazzoli was a Manchester City player, it was right to let her know about this matter both sentintally and logically.
"I've asked around, her mother's condition isn't serious. The brain hemorrhage was only about 4 milliliters, and the bleeding isn't in a critical brain function area. Since she was seen by a nurse at the onset, she's been rescued and is resting assuredly."
Gracie conveyed the general situation to Tang Long, who finally exhaled a sigh of relief.
"What about Bonazzoli? Such a big thing happened, didn't he co with you?" Gracie frowned.
Tang Long helplessly shook his head, saying he hadn't told him yet.
"When I got the call from Dilata, I was already substituted. Bonazzoli had just gone on and was playing. Let him perform well; I couldn't bear to tell him. You can't ask Guardiola to sub him off, right?"
At this thought, Tang Long felt a chill of fear.
Manchester Central Hospital's advanced dical technology had controlled the situation, a misfortune turned fortunate. Had his mother passed, and he had not inford Bonazzoli, they might have missed their last goodbye.
Gracie led Tang Long to the recovery room outside where Mrs. Bonazzoli was being treated.
Through the glass door, Tang Long saw a frail Italian woman serenely asleep on the white hospital bed.
Mrs. Bonazzoli had carefully braided her hair into a long plait draped over her chest, maintaining a sense of graceful elegance even in the sanatorium.
The ICU floor was sparse with people, the hallway quiet, with only the occasional sound of footsteps and faint beeps from dical equipnt in the rooms.
Tang Long and Gracie sat on the blue bench in the corridor, the surface slightly chilly.
The branches outside the window rustled gently in the breeze.
Watching the scenery outside, Tang Long's worries slowly dissipated, replaced by a hint of fatigue.
He leaned back, contemplating the day's events, suddenly feeling very sleepy, his eyelids drooping involuntarily as he closed his eyes.
This ti, Tang Long did not enter the AI Cloud Training Ground — he truly fell asleep.
Having hurriedly left The Hawthorns, Tang Long wore only a close-fitting short sleeve.
It was late October, and the hallway in the hospital was around ten degrees, his arms crossed over his chest in sleep.
Gracie, resting a hand on her chin, lightly tapped her brown flats on the ground, her snow-white ankles almost gleaming.
Watching Tang Long's even breathing and fearing he'd get cold, Gracie stood, removed her black leather jacket, and gently placed it over Tang Long's heaving chest.
...
Bonazzoli staged a ruthless performance, scoring a hat-trick in the first half to help Manchester City defeat West Brom 5-1 on the road!
Despite being nad Premier League Man of the Match for the first ti, Bonazzoli still felt unsatisfied, thinking to himself:
"What a pity, if I'd had ten more minutes, maybe I could have scored another!"
He happily accepted the match ball from the referee, covered with the signatures of all his teammates, except Tang Long.
When he couldn't find Tang Long, he felt a pang of oddity. Guardiola pulled him aside and told him to call Tang Long, patting Bonazzoli's shoulder.
When Bonazzoli rushed into Manchester Central Hospital with red eyes?
His mother had already awakened and was quietly chatting in the ward with Tang Long and Gracie.
Seeing his mother's pallid complexion, Bonazzoli couldn't hold back anymore and burst into heart-wrenching sobs on her shoulder, his cries stirring Tang Long and Gracie.
Ranocchia, sweating profusely, walked in with a soccer ball in his arms.
The two of them had returned together, but Bonazzoli had darted off as soon as they got out of the taxi, while Ranocchia couldn't keep up, didn't know the room number, and had to ask around before finding the place.
Ranocchia heard Bonazzoli's cries from the doorway, startled at first, but upon entering and seeing Mrs. Bonazzoli smiling at him, with Tang Long and Gracie appearing composed, he quickly realized that things weren't as dire.
"Mom, I brought a gift for you. Bonazzoli scored three goals today, a hat-trick. He was the best player on the field!"
Ranocchia referred to her as Mom instead of Mrs., a term of endearnt for female elders in Italian culture.
He placed the soccer ball on the bedside table, and Mrs. Bonazzoli smiled and nodded at him, her face showing contentnt.
Tang Long picked up a pen and solemnly signed his na on the ball too.
Finally, the soccer ball, still flecked with grass from The Hawthorns, bore the signatures of 24 first-team players from Manchester City.
"Mom, I brought the match ball over, it has the signatures of the whole team, only those who score a hat-trick get them," Bonazzoli said as he wiped away his tears, pride filling his eyes, his chest puffed slightly, "there will be more like this in the future, just watch. The Bonazzoli family na will be famous in the football world! I'm going to win all the championships, the league, the Champions League, and I will, as a starting forward, represent Italy to win the World Cup!"
"But I don't know if I'll be around to see that day, my dear son," tears stread down his mother's face.
Bonazzoli leaned over to wipe her tears, kissed her wrinkled forehead, then clenched his fist.
"You will surely see it, Mom!"
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