Chapter Thirty-Six: White

There is a saying in the West: when God closes a door for someone, He opens a window. Wang Lei was unsure of the origins of this phrase, but he held a different view. In his mind, doors were much larger and more convenient for coming and going, while windows were more often used by thieves.

Just like himself—if he hadn’t broken his leg, if he hadn’t lost his family, perhaps he would now be the soul of the national team, the core of a world-famous professional club. Unfortunately, his “door” had been closed, and if not for the merging of his soul with that of another Wang Lei from a parallel world, there might not even be a Wang Lei at all by now.

One never knows the magnitude of loss or the hardships of life until they have truly lost. For this reason, Wang Lei treasured his current life. He hadn’t used his advantages to enter the entertainment industry, for he knew all too well the chaos and drama of that world. With his limited time, he wished for a life free from such restlessness, preferring instead to devote his effort to being with Ma Dongmei.

Azguli Maimaiti had not deceived Wang Lei and the others—her younger brother was indeed a special case. This was evident from the boy’s appearance and attire when he arrived, his height almost matching Xue Yongjiang’s.

Although winter was approaching, the sunlight in Urumqi remained dazzling, yet Azguli’s brother was bundled up tightly, his face dominated by enormous sunglasses. This getup immediately irked Xue Yongjiang.

“Coach, this is my brother, Turghun. He’s loved basketball since he was little and has been practicing all along. Come, Turghun, greet the coach,” Azguli said, her respect for Wang Lei unmistakable now that she understood his true identity. Her tone carried a strong sense of ingratiation, clearly hoping for good news.

In contrast to Azguli, Turghun, who was a head taller, seemed uncomfortable dealing with strangers. He nervously rubbed his gloved hands together, started to extend one for a handshake, then withdrew it abruptly, offering instead a tentative smile, his lips barely moving.

“Hey, you lad—why are you so clueless? Already inside and still wrapped up like that? Can’t you speak Mandarin?” Xue Yongjiang, though sympathetic to Azguli, was dissatisfied with Turghun’s behavior since his arrival, and his words were blunt. This spoke to his temperament—no wonder he’d spent his career tucked away in the youth team, far from the spotlight.

“I can, I can speak. Hello, coach.” Turghun’s raspy voice betrayed his youth, while his hesitant tone revealed a timid personality.

“Turghun, take off your hat and sunglasses. Don’t be afraid, these coaches are all good people,” Azguli said in Uyghur, words Wang Lei didn’t understand, though Aili Maimaiti provided a timely translation.

After a conflicted glance at his sister, Turghun removed his gloves, took off his sunglasses, and pulled off his hat, revealing himself fully to Wang Lei and the others. It had to be admitted—he bore the same “striking” looks as his sister, but his snow-white hair, pale blue eyes, and creamy-pinkish skin marked his uniqueness.

“You…” Xue Yongjiang instantly regretted his earlier brusqueness, for he recognized the condition—Turghun was an albino.

“Coach, I know my brother is different from the others. He’s loved basketball since he was small, but because of his illness, few are willing to play with him. He always practices alone, working very hard and diligently. Please, coach, just give him a chance to try. Whether it works out or not, at least I’ll have a clear answer in my heart,” Azguli pleaded in her imperfect Mandarin, her emotion plain to see. She and her family had poured their hearts into supporting Turghun. Some people said he never should have been born, but Azguli never believed her brother was any worse than anyone else. She had dropped out after middle school to work, always helping him, hoping one day he could live a happy life.

Turghun himself harbored little hope for this opportunity. Though only sixteen, he had long grown accustomed to the stares of others. Growing up in such an environment had made him more mature than most his age. He remembered every time a coach refused him—from primary to secondary school, and now. At times, he’d nearly given up on basketball altogether. But for his sister’s sake, he forced himself to try again, fearing both the pitying looks and the possibility of rejection that would disappoint her. As for himself, well—he’d already grown used to it.

“How many years have you played basketball?” Wang Lei felt a pang of sympathy upon seeing Turghun. He well understood the challenges a child like this faced, and thought, regardless, perhaps he should at least be given a chance.

“Ten years. When I was six, my sister gave me a ball. With no friends to play with, I played with the ball alone.” At this moment, Turghun seemed calm. The initial fear and worry faded, replaced by acceptance. The chance to try was already a rare gift.

Because of his sensitivity to light, Turghun usually practiced basketball alone in his small room. He couldn’t play with others, nor did anyone teach him. He learned by watching television and studying materials his sister helped him find, developing immense patience thanks to his condition.

“Have you ever played in a game? Ever had a coach train you?”

“No. We’re from southern Xinjiang. Not many play basketball there, and there are even fewer coaches. They never wanted me.”

“So how did you practice?”

“Watching TV, reading books. My sister worked and bought me a computer, so I learned a lot from videos.”

By now, both Xue Yongjiang and Aili had lost hope for Turghun. He had never received any formal training, and at sixteen, even great talent might be too late to develop.

But Wang Lei was genuinely interested in letting him try. Unlike the other kids who’d been professionally trained, this “special” Turghun was a blank canvas. And as the saying goes, it’s easiest to paint on a blank sheet. Wang Lei truly wanted to see if he could shape this young man.

“Come on, let’s go to the gym and give it a try.”