On March 6th, following a generous nine-day rest period, the Manchester United squad traveled south to London.
Their destination was Selhurst Park, the raucous home of Crystal Palace, for the 29th round of the Premier League.
The Eagles were flying high, having just pulled off a shock victory against Tottenham in the previous round to climb to 11th in the table
. Their manager, Roy Hodgson, was a tactical veteran who knew exactly how to set up a low block against top-six sides.
From the opening whistle, Palace adhered strictly to the game plan.
They refused to engage in a high press, sitting deep and waiting for a singular moment of weakness to launch a counter-attack.
That moment arrived sooner than anyone expected.
In the 7th minute, James McArthur collected the ball in midfield. Spotting a gap in the United defensive line, he launched a precise lofted pass over the heads of Victor Lindelof and Chris Smalling.
Christian Benteke, timing his run to perfection, sprang the offside trap.
The big Belgian striker brought the ball down, rounded David De Gea with terrifying composure, and slotted it into the empty net.
1-0.
Selhurst Park erupted.
The noise was deafening, a mixture of joy and spite.
The South London locals made it clear: they would rather see Manchester City win the title a thousand times over than witness the Red Devils lift the trophy again.
The trauma of the Ferguson era ran deep here.
"Unbelievable scenes in South London!" Martin Tyler shouted from the gantry. "Palace have caught them napping! Benteke with ice in his veins, and United are chasing the game early on!"
Despite the early setback, there was no panic among the United players. This season, they had forged a mentality of steel. They knew they possessed superior quality, and time was on their side.
As the match resumed, United began to dominate possession, with Paul Pogba and Nemanja Matic rotating positions to overload the left flank.
They were looking for their spark, and as usual, it came from their Number 7.
In the 26th minute, Pogba executed a sharp V-pull drag-back to evade McArthur's pressure. With his head up, he drilled a diagonal through ball toward the left wing.
Ling killed the ball dead with his chest.
It was a touch of class.
As Andros Townsend charged in aggressively, Ling didn't panic; he simply lifted the ball with a delicate chip, bypassing the winger entirely.
But the danger wasn't over. A dark shadow was sprinting toward him from the fullback position.
It was Aaron Wan-Bissaka.
Promoted from the U23s in January, the youngster had quickly established a reputation. Although raw, his defensive instincts were elite.
He was a master of the recovery tackle, often letting wingers think they were past him before sliding in with telescopic legs to steal the ball.
He was nicknamed "The Spider" for his reach, but his physicality had earned him the moniker "The English Bulldozer" among the youth ranks.
Wan-Bissaka launched himself into the slide. He was confident. He had the angle. He was going to send both the man and the ball into touch.
'I tame dribblers for a living,' the defender thought.
But Ling was operating on a different frequency.
Seeing the slide coming, he didn't try to knock it past on the ground. Instead, he reacted with a fusion of instinct and technique.
He cushioned the dropping ball and chipped it a second time.
Smack.
The ball popped up like a sprite, floating gracefully over the sliding body of Wan-Bissaka.
The defender, committed to the momentum of his tackle, couldn't stop.
He slid uncontrollably across the wet turf and crashed hard into the advertising hoardings with a dull thud.
He saw stars, his vision blurring as he hissed in pain, his mind unable to comprehend how the ball had vanished.
"Oh my word!" Gary Neville gasped on the commentary. "That is absolutely filthy! He's chipped him! Wan-Bissaka hit the boards! That is world-class skill!"
The United fans in the away end gasped collectively before roaring as Ling accelerated into the box.
With the defense scattered, he cut the ball back as Jesse Lingard was waiting at the penalty spot.
Bang.
"Lingard finishes it! 1-1!" Tyler cried. "Ling provides the magic, and Lingard provides the finish! Crystal Palace have been dismantled by a moment of genius!"
Jesse Lingard sprinted toward the corner flag, grabbing Ling.
The two performed a choreographed robot dance, much to the delight of the traveling supporters.
"Playing with you is amazing, bro!" Lingard laughed, doing the robot motion. "I just wait for you to tear the wing apart, and I get a tap-in! Keep this up, and I might challenge for the Golden Boot!"
Romelu Lukaku watched from the center circle, feeling a twinge of envy.
Early in the season, he was the main man.
Now, his increased muscle mass was making him feel heavy and sluggish compared to the sharpness of his teammates.
"Later, drag the center-backs wide for me," Ling whispered to Lingard as they jogged back. "I want to cut inside and shoot. Salah is scoring every week; I need to keep up."
Ling had his eyes on the prize.
The System had promised a Platinum Treasure Chest for the Golden Boot. With Mohamed Salah in alien form, Ling needed every goal he could get!
The match resumed, and it became the Aaron Wan-Bissaka torture show.
The young defender, usually so composed, was rattled.
For the next fifteen minutes, he endured a nightmare. He had the explosive speed to match Ling, but he couldn't read the feints.
In the 42nd minute, Ling isolated him again.
Two quick step-overs left Wan-Bissaka flat-footed. The defender instinctively jabbed a leg out, but he was grasping at shadows.
Smack.
Ling pushed the ball past him, cut inside onto his right foot, and unleashed a curling shot from the edge of the box.
The ball arced beautifully, bypassing the goalkeeper's dive and nestling into the far corner.
"He's done it again!" Neville shouted. "That is the Thierry Henry finish! He's turned the defender inside out and bent it into the top bin. Just before halftime, United lead 2-1!"
"From a goal down to leading at the break," Tyler added. "This United team has resilience in their DNA. They simply refuse to panic."
Social media was instantly ablaze with reactions to the goal and the skill that preceded it.
@RedDevil_DNA: "Wan-Bissaka is going to need therapy after this. Ling has absolutely cooked him on national television. 😭😭 #mufc"
@TacticalTim: "People said AWB was the best 1v1 defender in the league. Ling just ended that debate in 45 minutes. Levels."
@LiverpoolLad: "Salah is still winning the boot, but fair play, that chip was naughty."
@UtdStand: "2-1! The mentality of this team is elite. Mourinho has turned them into monsters."
On the sidelines, Roy Hodgson shook his head.
Wan-Bissaka was a brilliant prospect, but he had run into a buzzsaw today.
The 4-4-2 flat formation left the fullback exposed with no cover, and against a player of Ling's quality, that was suicide.
After the halftime interval, the game settled.
United controlled the tempo, and in the 67th minute, they put the game to bed.
It started on the left again, a dummy attack.
As the Palace defense shifted heavily to support the beleaguered Wan-Bissaka, Paul Pogba looked up and launched a trademark 40-yard switch of play.
The ball landed perfectly for Marcus Rashford on the right. With the defense out of position, Rashford surged into the box and drilled a low shot past the keeper.
1-3.
"And that surely seals it!" Tyler announced. "Rashford joins the party! It's a clinic in attacking football from Manchester United."
Mourinho immediately signaled for the bus to be parked.
Defensive substitutions were made, and United sat deep, absorbing pressure and killing the game.
De Gea made a couple of routine saves from long-range efforts, but the result was never in doubt.
The referee blew the final whistle.
Crystal Palace 1, Manchester United 3. another three points, and the Red Devils marched on.
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