There was a Chinese idiom that made a lot of sense: strike a balance between work and rest. Now that he was under intense pressure, he should really take a break. Otherwise, the team might not collapse under the weight of it, but instead, it would be him who fell apart first – as soon as he thought that last moments at Portman Road stadium, the fear that his heart would give way lingered. If Eastwood had scored with that free kick, the Forest team would have to give up on their dream of striving for that second spot in the League Championship.

All right, I'll go to Burns' bar and relax. It'll be good to hang out with John and the others. I'll put aside my troubles about the promotion for the time being.

Tang En did not expect that the next night, he would not see Fat John and the rest at the Forest Bar, but another group of people. Tang En did not know this group of middle-aged men, who were the same age as Burns.

These men crowded around an older man in the middle. The older man, who was talking to others with a glass in his hand, was the focus of everyone present. He was the legendary manager of Nottingham Forest, Brian Clough.

Tang En did not expect to see the Chief here. He stared blankly at the entrance until Burns walked towards him.

"This is ..." The baffled Twain had just opened his mouth, before he was interrupted by Burns with a smile.

"This is a simple dinner to commemorate Nottingham Forest's 25th anniversary of winning the UEFA Champions League. Apart from you, everyone present here are those who participated in the UEFA Champions League final in 1979." Kenny Burns brought Twain in, and Clough, who was standing in the middle of the room and talking, saw them.

He raised his glass to Twain, "Look who's here. How does it feel to win a championship?"

His remark turned the other people's attention towards Twain, who had just entered. They all laughed, when they saw who had just walked in.

"Mr. Twain, you've been a news figure for the last two months!"

"Chief, I think you two are very alike!"

Clough did not express an opinion to such a remark, and Twain felt somewhat ill-at-ease. He did not know these men, except for Burns and Clough. But they seemed to be familiar with him. Burns got him out of a bind by handing him a glass of wine.

He took the glass and thanked Burns. Then, he answered Clough's first question, "It feels great, Chief."

When he said this, the others laughed again. Then, the discussion turned to the interesting incident before the EFL Cup final: "I could hardly believe my own eyes when I watched the entire Forest team walking down past the bus on the TV."

"Me too, Peter. The appearance of Mr. Tony Twain was impressive!"

"Haha!"

Tang En knew they were talking about his outfit. When he had watched the replay later, he thought he looked funny at that time, and he did not go through that again.

"Even though you looked like a clown, ... it was effective, wasn't it?" Clough sipped his drink, and then looked at Twain and said.

Twain nodded. Even though the people standing in front of him had held the UEFA Champions League trophy in their hands, as an EFL Cup winner, Twain also had the confidence of talking to them as an equal. "The team was not doing very well at the time,and I could only use that approach to help them build up their confidence. I also thought I looked comical, when I looked at myself later. But, since we finally won the championship, it was no big deal playing the clown."

The topic seemed to be developing in the direction of communication between the two men. Upon sensing this, the others tactfully drifted off, one after another, to chat freely with each other, glasses in their hands. Now, only the two men, Clough and Twain, were left in front of the table in the middle of the room. Clough made a "sit down" gesture, and the two men sat down, face-to-face.

"To be able to see the Forest team's red jerseys again in the EFL Cup final, that feels really good," the older man said slowly. "Do you know when we were last in the EFL Cup final?"

"Twelve years ago, Chief," Twain replied without hesitation.

Clough slowly nodded, "Even Wembley Stadium has been rebuilt, so it really has been a long time." He turned his gaze towards the bar entrance, recalling his years as the Forest manager.

Twelve years ago, in 1992, the last season before the establishment of the English Premier League, Brian Clough's last year as the manager of Nottingham Forest, the Forest team advanced to the 91-92 season EFL Cup finals. That was the final twilight of the once popular Nottingham Forest. They lost to Manchester United, and that saved Manager Alex Ferguson, who was in the midst of a crisis of confidence. And the Scot's achievements later made Manchester United his dynasty, and he was then awarded a knighthood by the Queen of England. And, as for Brian Clough, he and his legendary Forest slowly faded from history.

The Chief was two years younger than Bobby Robson, who was still in charge of Newcastle, and he was only seven years older than Ferguson. At this age, he could still absolutely command a game from the technical area, instead of sitting at home, drinking all day, and then being forced to undergo a liver transplant.

What would have happened, if the Forest team had not lost to Manchester United at that time? Would the Forest team have taken the opportunity to revive its glory? Would Ferguson be dismissed? And, what about the fate of the Manchester United 1992 generation of players, like Beckham, Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes, and so on?

There was no point in thinking about these questions now. When Twain snapped out of his reverie, he realized that Clough was looking at him.

"I've heard from Burns that you've been under a lot of pressure lately."

"Well .... yes, Chief. In the last round of the League Championship, I felt like I almost had a heart attack at the last moment."

Clough grinned, "It's not that easy to be a manager, son. I spent eighteen years in the Forest manager post. What kind of things have I not experienced? Undefeated for forty-two rounds, in the finals of the UEFA Champions League for three consecutive years, but I ..." He pointed to the people who were chatting, "never let them know the thoughts in my mind, especially the bad ones. Do you still remember the first time we met, son?"

Twain nodded. Burns, Walker, and Bowyer had brought him to Derby County. It was as if it were yesterday, that they were having tea at the Chief's house.

"What did I ask you at that time?"

This conversation felt similar to the conversations Twain had often had with his players, except the roles were now reversed. He was not the manager, but was more like a player, under Brian Clough. He thought about it, and then replied, "You asked me what I thought a manager did."

"And how did you answer that?"

"To lead the team to victory ..."

Clough took a sip of his drink, and then he answered, just as Twain had remembered back then, "Wrong, son, that's just part of the job. Now, I think you understand the meaning of this sentence?"

Twain nodded, "I already know it clearly, Chief."

"Wrong again. How long have you been sitting in this position? Your seat is not even warm yet, and you said you know it well. What do you know?"

Faced with this kind of rhetorical question, Twain did not know how to answer.

"You still have a long way to go, son ..." Clough slowly rose, then looked down at Twain. Then, he took his glass and went to chat to his old subordinates.

Following this, the dinner returned to being the main theme of this event. Everyone gushed about the old glory days of the Forest team. Twain sat on the side, quietly listening. At the same time, he imagined – One day, I will also sit here with my former staff, recalling the European championship years. How many years will that be?

The dinner was simple and private. It was also not open to the media, and no announcement was made to them. It was over at 10 in the evening. At the entrance to the bar, everyone was busy saying goodbye.

At this point, Twain became the busiest person again. All the people would specially come over to say goodbye to him, and then say one or two words to encourage him. After all, everyone used to play for the Forest team, and there were still some attachments.

Finally, it was Brian Clough's turn. He sat inside the car, wound down the car window, and looked at Twain. Twain, knowing that he had something to say, quickly leaned over and stood outside the car window.

The older man looked at Twain, thought for a second with his head tilted to the side, and shrugged, "I almost forgot something ... Congratulations, son." Then, he rolled up the car window again, and knocked on the back of the driver's seat as a signal for him to drive onward.

The white Ford slowly drove away from Twain, and everyone else drove away as they also bid farewell. Lively only a moment ago, the bar entrance was now suddenly deserted. As Twain stood by the road, Burns came up to him and said, "Are you okay? Just sitting there and listening to us talking about the past?"

Twain looked back at the kind man, and responded, "I'm okay ... I've often had such experiences in the past." He was referring to himself in China. While attending the class reunions, everyone was happily talking about their recent experiences, but only he was like an outsider, not interested in those topics.

"Well, to be honest ... it was the Chief who asked me to call you. Originally, we only invited those teammates who played in the '79 UEFA Champions League final. Before you came, the EFL Cup final came up when he and I were chatting, and he said that your tactics in that game reminded him of the first time the Forest team had won the Champions League, as we also had relied on an air-tight defense to win. Oh, and one more thing, although the Chief did not say it, I think that, if the Forest team is really back in the Premier League at the end of this season, he will be very happy." Burns looked into the distant night sky as he spoke.

Twain smiled, "Thank you, Kenny."

"Don't thank me, thank the Chief. All of us old guys can relive those years that were once faded away in your Forest team, so everyone has high hopes of you. What do you think? Now that I have said this, is the pressure getting heavier in your heart?" Burns laughed.

"Kenny, if I don't succeed, I'll come to you, and drink all your alcohol!"