Sports Medicine Master System

On the track, Liu Xiang knelt on the ground, unable to calm his racing heart for a long time.

After a good while, Shi Dongpeng finally pulled him to his feet.

"Incredible!"

The big man from Yan Zhao gave him a thumbs-up without hesitation, a thousand words condensed into a single one.

Liu Xiang wiped away his tears and hugged Trammel, who had come up to meet him.

Not far away, Alan Johnson stood silently with his hands on his hips, a complicated expression in his eyes.

Having competed in the sports world for so many years, Alan Johnson knew full well that new talents emerge in every generation. He, the number one hurdler, would be surpassed sooner or later.

When that time came, he was supposed to offer his congratulations with a smile and make a graceful exit.

But now that the moment was actually here, Alan Johnson found he couldn’t remain calm.

The Olympic record of 12.95 seconds—he had set that at the ’96 Olympics. It was the highlight of his career, something that would be etched into Olympic history forever.

But now it was gone!

No, it was *about* to be gone.

This wasn’t the Olympics, so the time he ran didn’t count as an official Olympic record.

But if he could run a 12.93 at a Grand Prix, then he would almost certainly break his Olympic record at the Athens Olympics three months from now.

Alan Johnson had always considered himself a man of grace, but at this moment, he found he just couldn’t let it go.

Just then, Liu Xiang happened to look his way.

Their eyes met. No matter how unwilling he felt, reason compelled Alan Johnson to walk over, extend his hand, and give Liu Xiang a simple handshake.

After the brief, perfunctory handshake, Alan Johnson turned and walked away without another word.

If he hadn’t shaken his hand, the media might be calling him a sore loser tomorrow.

"I really didn’t expect this guy to be so shameless. After what he pulled last year, he still deliberately false-started this year," Shi Dongpeng snorted.

Did he really think they couldn’t tell it was a deliberate false start?

Liu Xiang hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. "Don’t say that. He was just making rational use of the rules."

A deliberate false start was nothing new; it was just unexpected from an athlete of Alan Johnson’s caliber.

This only proved that he was now a real threat to him.

Fortunately, the false start rule was changing next year. With the new zero-tolerance rule, no one could use this tactic anymore.

Most importantly, Liu Xiang couldn’t bring himself to resent Alan Johnson.

Last year, at Chen Yu’s suggestion, Alan Johnson had deliberately provoked him, and the result was that it had pushed him to his best performance.

And this year, you could say Alan Johnson’s deliberate false start had once again forced him to bring out his best form.

Standing on the starting line again with no room for error, he had truly given it his all.

At that moment, Sun Haiping came jogging over and handed him a national flag.

Liu Xiang draped the flag over his shoulders and took a slow victory lap around the track.

Unfortunately, the crowd in the stands was unimpressed. Barely a few people even clapped.

But Liu Xiang didn’t care. Today, he had made the national flag appear in this stadium; three months from now, he would make it fly high in the skies of a foreign land.

The award ceremony, the interviews, shaking hands and smiling with everyone who congratulated him—by the time it was all over, Liu Xiang felt more tired than he had after winning the race.

In the prep area, Liu Xiang finally met up with Chen Yu.

Seeing Liu Xiang’s emotional expression, Chen Yu waved his hand dismissively. "Alright, if you’re going to thank me, just hold it in. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard those words already."

After a pause, Chen Yu gave him a thumbs-up. "But you really made us proud today."

There was only one goal left: three months from now, in Athens, to run under 12.9 seconds and shatter both the Olympic and world records in one go.

Liu Xiang nodded slightly, silently thanking him in his heart. Then he asked when they were going to the United States. If they were leaving tomorrow, he wanted to go to the mall tonight to buy some gifts to send home.

He had been too busy preparing for the race and hadn’t had the time.

"You don’t need to go back to the United States just yet," Chen Yu said after a moment’s thought. "Today is the 8th. How about this: I’ll give you a week. Come back to the US on the 15th. For this week, you can go back to China first."

Liu Xiang was taken aback. Sun Haiping, standing beside him, quickly interjected, "Dr. Chen, why go back to China? He may have won this time, but it’s no time to rest. The Olympics are only three months away. Now is the time to stabilize his performance."

His plan was to return to the United States tomorrow and use the remaining time to train hard.

Chen Yu shook his head, stepped forward, and clapped Liu Xiang on the shoulder. "No, you need to go back. What’s that saying? Achieving wealth and fame but not returning home to show it off is like wearing fine clothes in the dead of night. After working so hard to get such a great result, how can you not go back and flaunt it a little?"

"Besides, aren’t you going to make some money? With a historic breakthrough like this, your commercial value will increase at least tenfold."

Previously, Liu Xiang’s endorsement deal with Nike was only for a paltry 500,000. Now, five million wouldn’t even be the ceiling.

Liu Xiang paused. He did want to make money, but going back specifically to show off and cash in felt a little awkward.

"Is that... a good idea?"

’Logically, after getting a good result, shouldn’t I be humble and keep working hard?’

Sun Haiping also frowned. He, too, had a vague feeling this wasn’t a good idea.

He hadn’t even truly broken the Olympic record yet, and now he was supposed to rush back to do interviews, appear on TV, and sign endorsement deals to make money. He was genuinely afraid that Liu Xiang would be corrupted by money, that his focus would waver.

"What’s not good about it?"

Chen Yu retorted, then said, "Liu Xiang, you need to remember, you deserve all of this. You’re a professional athlete, and you need to make a living from your sport. I know what you’re thinking. A sense of honor is a good thing, but sometimes, there’s nothing wrong with being a little more pragmatic and self-interested."

An athletic career only lasts a few years. If you don’t seize the opportunity to earn a lifetime’s worth of money, how will you manage?

"Besides, this will also be a source of motivation for you. The prospect of earning money and living a good life will give you the drive to train even harder and achieve better results."

Competitive sports are so ruthless; calling it an army crossing a single-plank bridge is an understatement.

Passion alone is truly not enough to support an athlete in their pursuit of the absolute limit.

’This kid has never earned any real money. It’s time he got a taste of it.’

Liu Xiang glanced at Sun Haiping but didn’t say anything.

After a moment of hesitation, Sun Haiping nodded.

"Then it’s settled." Chen Yu was also in a hurry to get back to the United States. The television show he was planning for the Summer needed to be prepared.

"By the way, you don’t have an agent yet, do you?"

Liu Xiang paused for a second, then shook his head.

In China, track and field wasn’t a high-profile sport like basketball or soccer, and the agent industry was far from as robust or developed as it was abroad.

For his endorsement with Nike, for example, Nike had approached him directly, and the Athletics Management Center was responsible for coordinating and handling it.

And just like with Yao Ming, the Athletics Management Center took a cut of all his endorsement income and prize money.

The specific breakdown was that Liu Xiang got half. Of the remaining half, the Shanghai Sports Bureau took 20%, the Athletics Management Center took 15%, and the final 15% was allocated to Sun Haiping.

In China, outside of sports like basketball and soccer, a coach like Sun Haiping was much more than just a coach.

They were coaches, parents, representatives of the management center, and agents—they wore many hats.

Considering Sun Haiping had sought him out three times, guided him onto the path of hurdling, cooked his meals, did his laundry, and cared for him like a son, he deserved that cut.

"So that’s how it is."

’I used to think this kind of distribution was absurd and unreasonable,’ Chen Yu thought, ’but after gaining a deeper understanding of how Chinese sports operate, I can see the logic.’

After all, he had entered the sports school system at a young age, and the country had invested significant resources in his development.

Liu Xiang nodded and said, "Dr. Chen, actually, now that I’m earning money, you should get a cut too."

Over the past two years in the United States, for his living expenses, consultations with professional American track and field Trainers, and use of various equipment, Liu Xiang had no idea how much money Chen Yu had spent on him.

It was a considerable investment.

Now that he was finally getting results and, as Chen Yu said, could start earning money, he had to return the favor and repay Chen Yu.

"Dr. Chen, when I get back, I’ll talk to the leadership about giving you a cut. If they don’t agree, I’ll give it to you from my share," Liu Xiang said.

As soon as he finished speaking, Sun Haiping stopped him. "You don’t have to use yours. Just give Dr. Chen my share. Also, don’t speak carelessly when you get back. You can’t touch the cut that goes to the Athletics Management Center and the Sports Bureau."

That 35 percent was absolutely untouchable.

Besides, because Liu Xiang was in track and field, a representative sport, his split was considered quite high.

For sports like swimming, athletes might only get to keep a third.

Chen Yu quickly did the math in his head.

Suppose Liu Xiang could ride the Olympic wave this year and increase his income tenfold—say, to 50 million in prize money and endorsements for the year.

That would be about seven million US dollars.

If he were to take a cut, it would be 15 percent at most.

Fifteen percent would be about one million US dollars.

And that’s before taxes. He’d have to pay taxes in China, and the Internal Revenue Service would want its share too. He’d probably end up with less than half of that.

So, maybe five hundred thousand US dollars.

’Honestly, I could probably make that much just by performing ten more surgeries at the clinic.’

Of course, Liu Xiang’s income would likely increase in the future, but how many years did he have in his professional career? Ten years at the absolute most. The total income from his cut would probably be around ten million US dollars.

’Calculated that way, it’s not a small sum after all.’

However, a different idea suddenly occurred to Chen Yu. Instead of taking a cut of this money, why not try another approach?

For instance, he could establish an agency, partner with the Sports Bureau, and see if he could manage the commercial development of other athletes.

In the NBA, Chen Yu was an owner, so he couldn’t open an agency to represent players. But there were no such restrictions in other leagues or countries.

They could still follow the established splits, and even if the company only took a 5 percent cut, as long as they represented enough athletes, the income would surely be higher than his share from Liu Xiang alone.

And this was already a key part of Chen Yu’s plan to develop the sports market in China.

"How about this: I’ll go back to China with you, and you don’t have to worry about my cut. I’ll discuss the specifics with the Sports Bureau; it has nothing to do with you," Chen Yu said with a smile. "Right now, you should be thinking about how you’re going to handle press interviews when you get back, and how you’re going to enjoy the honor you’ve earned."

It was time for him to experience what it felt like to be a sports star.