Chapter 209: Li Ang's Plan to Reach Double-Doubles in Half a Season
That evening, Li Ang was casually watching Belgium's international match.
So when he saw Lukaku slap his shiny bald head right in front of the camera, he couldn't help but burst out laughing.
To be honest, Li Ang didn't initially have the best impression of this "big lug" called Lukaku.
Later on, when they both left Chelsea—albeit in very different ways—Lukaku somewhat burned his bridges at Inter, and Li Ang considered that pretty low.
A guy who said one thing and did another behind people's backs… That was the complete opposite of the kind of personality Li Ang admired.
But things changed.
Ever since he'd gotten to know Pogba and warmed up to him, Li Ang felt like he'd grown a bit on this front.
Sure, he still thought that both Pogba and Lukaku would turn into annoying personalities down the line.
But for now, they were just two enthusiastic kids trying to get close to him—and their intentions weren't bad.
It didn't feel right to judge someone based on the possibility they might become a problem later.
If those future issues ever actually happened, Li Ang figured he could distance himself from them then.
Right now, as long as they were genuine, he'd try to be a positive influence.
He couldn't completely change someone's nature—he wasn't delusional.
But as long as they were teammates, and Lukaku genuinely wanted to learn and be close to him, then sure.
If he could help this insecure kid—whose career path looked like a train wreck waiting to happen—just a little, then why not?
"I really am such a kind and helpful teammate," Li Ang muttered to himself, not bothering to hide the smugness.
Right then, the live broadcast showed Lukaku tearing down the flank again, bursting forward in added time to assist De Bruyne with a thunderous goal from the edge of the box.
It was a beautiful play. Lukaku's explosive run down the wing left Croatia's fullback in the dust.
Still, Li Ang couldn't help but smile and shake his head.
"Guess he's a proper winger now…"
※※※
October 17th, in the afternoon, Chelsea's first-team players began trickling back to Cobham Training Ground for post-international break medicals.
Lukaku, fresh off two matches with Belgium where he logged two goals and one assist, was in a fantastic mood.
Mourinho, however, was not.
Especially after seeing the medical reports. When the team doctors recommended that both Lampard and Ashley Cole should sit out the next league match, the coaching staff collectively sighed.
If England's national team manager had been anyone else, Mourinho might've started swearing right then and there.
But the current man in charge, old Uncle Roy, was a different story. Mourinho could only force a bitter smile.
Managing England wasn't easy. There was a generational gap. Not enough fresh blood to pick from.
If there were young players ready to go, Uncle Roy wouldn't have to keep running Lampard and Ashley Cole into the ground like this.
After mentally defending Hodgson a bit, Mourinho had to face the facts.
With Lampard and Cole needing rest, Chelsea's upcoming match against Cardiff City would have to feature Bertrand and Matic in the starting eleven.
As he circled Matic's name on the lineup sheet, Mourinho suddenly remembered that Ivanović had also played two full matches over the international break.
So he circled Azpilicueta's name too—time to rotate the whole group of veterans who had been flogged by their national teams.
Terry should have been part of the rest group as well, given he was still operating at a world-class level.
He and Ferdinand could still hold down England's back line with ease.
But after a fallout with Rio's brother, Terry had officially retired from international duty in September.
So now, while the others were out on national team duty, Terry and Li Ang had been getting in some rest and recovery—or grinding out extra training sessions.
Mourinho didn't have to worry about their condition. That, at least, was one piece of good news.
With Čech in goal, Terry commanding the back line, and Li Ang dropping in when needed, the defensive core still looked solid.
Ibrahimović, of course, would also be rotated out.
But with Lukaku riding high after a strong international break, he might just be the right weapon to use against a newly promoted Cardiff side.
Mourinho made up his mind.
The next morning, when full training resumed, Lukaku was overjoyed to receive the main striker's training bib.
Even better, Mourinho gave him full attacking freedom—not forcing him to stay pinned to defenders inside the box.
Other players were surprised at this liberty. But then again, the next opponent was only Cardiff.
If Zlatan was resting, letting Lukaku enjoy a start made perfect sense.
Especially if he could replicate that performance from the national team. Cardiff might just be easy prey.
They only had one full day of training.
On October 19th, Chelsea flew to Wales and arrived in Cardiff.
So far, Cardiff City had exceeded expectations. With two wins, three draws, and two losses in their first seven matches, they sat twelfth in the league.
That was already an achievement, and confidence was high despite the looming visit from the league leaders.
So when Chelsea walked onto the pitch for warm-ups, the most high-profile player in the lineup—Li Ang—was immediately greeted with a chorus of boos.
Familiar noise. It didn't faze him.
On the broadcast, the camera caught him smiling and raising an eyebrow, calm and confident as ever.
During the pre-match formalities, the Sky Sports commentators were busy singing Li Ang's praises.
Even though on October 14th, the Premier League Player of the Month award for September had gone to Arsenal's number 7, Cavani, it wasn't like Li Ang's numbers were anything to scoff at.
Cavani scored four goals and assisted one in four matches that month, helping Arsenal to four straight wins.
But Li Ang had led Chelsea to three straight wins with two goals and two assists—equally impressive.
In terms of contributions to team victories and personal performances, Li Ang was absolutely on par.
But when it came to awards like this, strikers with goals always had the upper hand.
And Cavani, like Li Ang, was also a high-profile new signing.
Which made the Premier League's intention to "spread the cake" between new stars rather obvious.
The Sky Sports commentator clearly had a fondness for Li Ang.
Even though he hadn't produced any personal stats in the previous match against Norwich, the commentator remained optimistic about Li Ang's performance in today's game.
Cardiff City's young manager Malky Mackay was also visibly wary of Li Ang.
His players and the home fans may have been full of confidence, but Mackay kept a clear head.
To contain Li Ang, he even rolled out a triple defensive midfield setup.
Forget what the media and fans were saying about "going for the win"—Mackay had clearly set his sights on a draw.
Mourinho respected grounded young coaches like that.
But that didn't mean he was going to go easy—he fully intended to leave Cardiff with a dominant three points.
Chelsea started the match with a 4-3-3 formation and immediately pushed forward aggressively, looking for gaps in Cardiff's defense.
Once again, Li Ang and Oscar started as the two advanced central midfielders, but it was Li Ang who held the reins of Chelsea's attack.
Where to go, who to focus the attack through, who should see more of the ball—it was all up to him.
Faced with Cardiff's compact midfield, Li Ang decisively had Oscar help stretch the central defenders and drew attention away to free up the flanks.
He had no interest in hogging the spotlight.
Oscar, though, couldn't help but glance jealously at Hazard and De Bruyne constantly getting touches on the ball.
What Oscar didn't realize was that Li Ang was doing this for him.
Most of the Cardiff squad were unfamiliar names to Li Ang, but one midfielder stood out.
The stocky Chilean pitbull, Gary Medel.
Cardiff had splashed a club-record £11 million to bring Medel in from Sevilla that summer.
Now, Li Ang found himself once again facing off with an old La Liga foe.
He respected Medel—tough, smart, experienced.
Sure, last season Li Ang had come out on top in their head-to-head matchups, but that was mostly psychological. He'd intentionally provoked Medel into an early yellow and forced an early substitution.
This was the Premier League, though—a league that encouraged physical duels. Medel wasn't likely to get carded that easily here.
Li Ang wasn't afraid of mixing it up with him.
But if Oscar were to be given control of the ball now, Medel would zero in on him and eat him alive.
It was safer to build play down the flanks.
Compared to Cardiff's stacked midfield—complete with enforcers—their wide players looked quite average.
That proved true on the pitch. In one-on-one situations, neither right midfielder Whittingham nor right-back Theophile-Catherine could contain Hazard.
With two goals and three assists already this season, Hazard was flying.
As long as he wasn't off-form, there wasn't a single right-back in the league who could confidently say they could shut him down.
Catherine, signed from Ligue 1 that summer, was still adjusting to the pace of English football—and he was a bulky full-back to begin with.
Li Ang had been watching him since kickoff. The guy looked solid—maybe better suited as a center-back.
But as a right-back? He was far too slow.
Hazard thrived against opponents like that.
Catherine's strength and one-on-one tackling might've looked good on paper, but Hazard wasn't playing that game.
He never gave him a static target. One quick feint, and he was gone.
After getting burned several times, Catherine was forced to call for help.
And that—that was what Li Ang had been waiting for.
As Cardiff's midfield defense shifted to help their right flank, Li Ang pulled the trigger.
He switched positions with Oscar, dragging Medel with him and freeing himself to support Hazard directly.
Hazard, now in the zone, was completely fearless.
Even double-teams didn't faze him. He just kept finding ways to win the ball back or dribble through tight spaces.
Li Ang hovered nearby, offering defensive support. He didn't demand the ball, didn't force anything.
Just waited.
Eventually, Cardiff were forced to stretch. They couldn't just bunker anymore—they had to press Hazard and De Bruyne more aggressively.
But pressing created gaps. And gaps meant danger.
In the 25th minute of the first half, Hazard was still dazzling.
His footwork and balance were drawing gasps from the home fans.
But this time, after slipping past Whittingham yet again, he didn't cut inside or drive to the byline.
Li Ang had his hand up—calling for the ball.
Hazard didn't hesitate. He knocked a quick pass across the pitch into Li Ang's stride.
Oscar and De Bruyne surged forward in support, drawing defenders.
But Li Ang didn't pass to either of them.
Instead, as he ran, he subtly chipped a quick, low-trajectory through ball over the top—a disguised pass with just the right pace and arc.
Lukaku, who had been stretching the line with lateral movement, suddenly cut in and surged forward down the right.
The ball dropped perfectly into the corner of Cardiff's penalty area.
Lukaku beat center-back Turner with a burst of speed, nudged the ball inward with his right foot, and unleashed a powerful shot toward the near post.
Goalkeeper David Marshall guessed right—but it wasn't enough.
The shot was too fast, too accurate, too powerful.
The ball kissed the grass as it skidded across, slamming into the back of the net and lifting the white mesh in a beautiful arc.
Chelsea fans in the stands exploded with joy.
Li Ang, watching Lukaku point toward him and sprint his way with that goofy smile, couldn't help but grin.
That assist brought his season tally to five goals and six assists across all competitions.
Ambition burned in his chest.
Right there, in that moment, Li Ang made up his mind:
He would hit ten goals and ten assists by the halfway mark of the season.
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