A crescent moon gradually rose to dominate the night sky as Manchester United's celebrations continued.
High in the gantry, Peter Drury's voice softened, taking on a reflective tone.
"And now, the gladiators become fathers, sons, and husbands. The families descend onto the hallowed turf of Old Trafford. It is a moment of intimacy amidst the grandeur."
"Indeed, Peter," Jim Beglin added warmly. "You see the WAGs (Wives and Girlfriends) joining them. It's quite the sight—a baby boom seems imminent at Carrington! I count four partners visibly pregnant—Pogba, Lukaku, Lingard, and Matic. The next generation of Red Devils is already on the way."
"And there is Juan Mata's exquisitely beautiful young daughter, adorably asking the players for photos in her childish voice. A night they will never forget."
On the pitch, the atmosphere was filled with warmth.
Yan Lanxia and Ling Changzheng walked over to Ling, their faces beaming with pride.
However, Yan Lanxia inexplicably sighed as she looked around at the other players' families.
"I wonder when I'll get to be a grandmother."
"Mom, I just turned adult and I'm still a kid myself," Ling responded with a bitter smile.
"Isn't it quite common in England to get married and have children at 18?" Changzheng asked, somewhat confused by the cultural differences.
"England is England, but your son is a genuine Chinese. We should definitely wait until the legal age," Ling pursed his lips.
"Like father, like son indeed."
With only one season having passed, he still had many areas to improve upon.
He didn't even have enough time for daily training, let alone energy for romance.
If he really met the right person, he could still try to get to know them, but for now, football was his priority.
While Ling was chatting with his parents, he suddenly saw a beautiful girl approaching arm-in-arm with Jose Mourinho.
Mourinho introduced her with a smile, "Ling, this is my daughter, Tita. She's also at Manchester University, studying jewelry design and graduating this year. Look at this watch I'm wearing—it's one of Tita's designs."
After speaking, Mourinho meaningfully raised his eyebrows at Ling, making his intention perfectly clear.
Compared to someone like Anthony Martial, Mourinho believed that Ling was impeccable in terms of character, attitude, and ability, which was why he had the idea of matchmaking.
It must be noted that shortly after Mourinho arrived at Man United, something happened that deeply disgusted him regarding Martial.
During a Manchester United players' gathering, Martial had asked for Tita's contact information and sent several "peculiar" photos that same night.
Mourinho had been furious and even informed Martial's mother about the matter.
Naturally, this was one of the reasons Mourinho disapproved of Martial.
Previously, he had stripped him of his jersey number without explanation and frequently benched him as a substitute.
Tita wasn't annoyed by her father's misguided matchmaking attempts, gracefully extending her slender hand with poise.
"Hello!"
"Hello, senior," Ling replied politely.
Hearing this, Tita burst into laughter, thinking this player was quite interesting—completely devoid of youthful awkwardness, with clear and honest eyes.
She made no attempt to hide her fondness for Ling.
In fact, she had previously discovered a file on her father's computer containing all of Ling's information from the youth team to the first team.
The lengthy text, spanning over a thousand words, consistently expressed Mourinho's admiration for this player.
"Extraordinary talent and technique, speed, strength, and nimble footwork—whether in individual breakthroughs, shooting, or scoring ability, he has demonstrated an incredible level."
"If he undergoes my targeted training, he could handle most of the midfield and forward tasks, link up the team's overall offense, and execute explosive point breakthroughs to tear apart the opponent's defensive formation."
Although they had only met twice, the heroics of that night and the file she read left a deep impression on her, sparking a strong interest in this young man who had just turned 18.
She said with a bright smile, "Congratulations on winning the Premier League! Do you have time next week? How about we tour the campus? There were still many places we didn't get to see last time."
"..." Ling paused, surprised by the direct invitation.
After exchanging a few words with Tita, Ling bid farewell and headed toward the players' tunnel.
Nearby, another interaction was taking place.
Melanie, Marcus Rashford's mother, gave her son a firm pat on the shoulder. "You can't neglect your studies just because of football."
Since her divorce, she had been raising five children alone.
Her greatest wish wasn't for her son to join Man United's first team, but for him to become a highly educated university student.
Rashford nodded seriously, "Don't worry, Mom. I have a good friend. He used to chase after me, and now it's my turn to chase him. I won't relax until I catch up with him."
Rashford had also made them proud by entering Manchester University two years earlier and was even planning to pursue a master's degree.
As Ling walked away, a clear, melodious voice rang out.
"Ling!"
Ling instinctively looked up to see a girl waving from the stands—it was Maria, whom he had met just a few days earlier at the university.
Earlier, when she saw Ling chatting and laughing with Tita, she had felt an inexplicable emotion.
Ling playfully winked and gently shook his hand at her.
...
Meanwhile, at Pep Guardiola's villa.
Marius and Valentina sat on the sofa watching Man United's championship celebration when the camera suddenly panned to the edge of the field.
At the center of the screen were Ling and Maria, exchanging that wave.
Marius immediately jumped up from the sofa, "Look, look! It's Jeremy! Why is my sister there? Didn't she say she was going to the library?"
Guardiola had just finished his pre-match tactical analysis.
Having suffered defeats in both the league and Champions League this year, the FA Cup final absolutely could not go wrong for him.
Otherwise, ending two consecutive seasons empty-handed would be unacceptable, no matter how tolerant the management might be.
Fortunately, Chelsea wasn't particularly strong and was recently embroiled in their manager's dismissal controversy, so major surprises seemed unlikely.
In a cheerful mood, he descended the stairs just in time to hear Marius's words.
Turning to look at the television screen, his face instantly darkened.
'Here I am diligently preparing for the FA Cup final, only to have that brat sneak into my home life?'
He truly admired Ling as a player, but that didn't mean he wanted Ling as his son-in-law!
As for specific reasons?
Guardiola racked his brains but couldn't come up with any.
Consistent performance on the field, humble and low-key off the field, a private life so clean even The Sun couldn't find anything to report—by all accounts, he should be an ideal son-in-law.
But he just couldn't accept it.
And it definitely had nothing to do with being defeated twice by Man United in the league, with Ling scoring three goals against his team.
No one noticed that his fists were tightly clenched.
Marius's voice grew increasingly subdued, afraid his father would scold him.
Seeing this, Guardiola could only sigh helplessly.
It's worth knowing that his son used to idolize him, with posters of him plastered all over his room, and he would often praise him in daily life.
But last time, when he quietly went in to admire them, he found all his own posters had vanished, replaced by the Manchester United No. 7.
Guardiola finally made a concluding remark, struck by a sudden inspiration.
"What do you think about me buying Ling for Man City?"
Marius and Valentina's little faces lit up with excitement, nodding vigorously like chicks pecking at rice—wouldn't that mean they could see Ling often?
The more Guardiola thought about it, the more he liked the idea.
If that were the case, letting that kid spend time with Maria was something he could reluctantly accept.
—
Happy times are always fleeting.
As the Man United fans gradually departed, Old Trafford slowly returned to tranquility.
The Man United players all chose to spend time with their families, with the post-match review scheduled for three days later, after the club's championship parade.
Before leaving, Mourinho gathered the squad and said sternly, "Although the league is over, we still have the Champions League final at the end of the month. I'm not forbidding you to relax, but everyone must know their limits. I don't want to see any negative news about you."
His biggest concern was that after winning the title, the fighting spirit among the Man United players might dissipate.
Ling chimed in, supporting his manager. "Since the Premier League reform, Man United has won 13 Premier League titles, but only 3 Champions League titles. So, you know what that means."
"And compared to the Premier League title, the Champions League holds more prestige because it represents the pinnacle of European football."
The Man United players nodded in agreement, reining in their pride.
Of course, many didn't pay it much mind. But Mourinho could only say so much—after all, they were all adults and responsible for their own actions.
Afterward, Ling drove his parents to Outer Heaven, the Chinese restaurant, where Uncle Wen personally cooked a lavish dinner.
The dining table was filled with joy.
"I really envy you for having such a good son. My own boy is such a headache—getting him to study is harder than reaching the heavens," Wen Shilin said as he picked up a piece of sea bass with his chopsticks.
Changzheng didn't know how to comfort him, so he simply replied, "When Ling first came to England to play football, we couldn't accompany him. We've caused you a lot of trouble. Let me toast you."
"Ah, what kind of talk is that? Ling used to come here often to help out. If we really start counting, I owe him!"
"Besides, seeing a fellow countryman playing in the Premier League is a great joy for me."
"It's just a pity that Dong and Sun left the Premier League too early. Otherwise, we could have seen you compete on the same pitch."
Wen Shilin clinked glasses with Changzheng, reminiscing about the past with deep emotion.
As glasses were raised and toasts exchanged, the atmosphere grew even livelier.
Emboldened by the alcohol, Wen Shilin said, "Ling, never become complacent with your current achievements. You must remember how many people's hopes rest on your shoulders. I won't say too much, but keep these four words in mind: stay grounded."
As he spoke, he pointed to the jerseys hanging on the walls around the restaurant, bearing the names of stars like Eric Cantona, Roy Keane, Ryan Giggs, David Beckham, and Cristiano Ronaldo.
His finger finally settled on the spot visible right upon entering the restaurant. "I've hung your jersey there, hoping that one day you'll surpass them. Consider it Uncle Wen's request of you."
Under the warm, gentle light, Ling, feeling the effects of the alcohol, declared with great enthusiasm.
"I will do my best—no, I will definitely achieve it!"
Yan Lanxia and Jeremy Changzheng exchanged a glance, both revealing relieved smiles.
In the eyes of the three, the young man was spirited and ambitious, radiating such confidence and fearlessness as if no difficulty could hinder his progress.
After dinner, Ling found a designated driver to take his parents to their hotel, while he took the subway back, immersing himself in the city's hustle and bustle.
Upon arriving near the Carrington Training Base, he strolled for half an hour in the evening breeze, waiting for the drunkenness to fade almost completely before heading back to his dorm.
After a quick wash, Ling took a deep breath, focused his mind, and opened the system.
Because he had just heard the system notification informing him that he had completed two tasks and could claim the rewards at any time.
A cold, mechanical prompt sounded.
[Congratulations on completing the personal task: Win the 2017-18 Premier League Golden Boot award!]
[Task reward: Platinum Treasure Chest!]
[Treasure Chest opening...]
[Congratulations, Host, for obtaining: "Injury Immunity" module!]
[Module details: Repairs injuries caused by exercise by consuming bio-energy!]
The Platinum Treasure Chest suddenly shattered, transforming into countless points of light that merged into Ling's body.
He shivered briefly, and then there were no further unusual phenomena.
Ling was momentarily baffled.
The injury immunity module was straightforward in its literal meaning, but the details seemed a bit complex.
Soon, he figured it out.
Why overthink it? He could always figure it out later.
Moreover, he had a faint sensation that his previously injured calf and knee ligaments suddenly felt warm.
It seemed he could now use the Pendulum Dribble without restraint!
Thinking of this, Ling smiled happily.
In the future, he wanted to break a record—the number of goals scored after dribbling past the goalkeeper.
He would make every goalkeeper in the football world dread facing him!
If a Platinum Treasure Chest could yield such a great module, then...
Even with Ling's temperament, he couldn't help but breathe rapidly and eagerly opened the system, navigating to the team task section at the bottom.
The cold, mechanical voice sounded again.
[Congratulations on completing the team task: Win the 2017-18 Premier League championship!]
[Calculating contribution...]
[Goals: 38, Assists: ...]
The system considered not only surface statistics but also aspects like offense and defense—a rather complex calculation method.
After a while, Ling couldn't help but yawn as the fluorescent screen finally stopped flickering.
[Task reward: Legendary Treasure Chest!]
A dazzling, multicolored treasure chest slowly materialized in mid-air, featuring the familiar faces of legendary football stars.
[Module selection complete...]
[Ronaldo's "Tomahawk Header" module!]
[Ronaldinho's "Three-Dimensional Touch" module!]
[Rivaldo's "Blood-colored Demon Blade" module!]
[Figo's "Seemingly True, Yet False" module!]
[Van Basten's "Ballet Step" module!]
[...]
The array of modules dazzled Ling.
Who was currently the best at headers in the football world? Cristiano Ronaldo was undoubtedly in a league of his own.
As for Ronaldinho's module, it seemed a bit redundant since Ling already had the "Three-Dimensional Spatial Awareness" module.
With his own training and understanding, he would eventually reach Ronaldinho's level.
Then there was Rivaldo's module.
It was said that his childhood malnutrition led to an unconventional shooting posture, which inadvertently developed into a unique way of generating power.
The football traveled almost parallel to the ground, dipping sharply in the last few meters to bounce after touching the grass—essentially a knuckleball skimming the surface, often catching goalkeepers off guard.
The remaining modules required no elaboration, as they were all signature moves of top-tier football stars.
Ling took several deep breaths to calm himself before focusing intently and opening the treasure chest.
[Opening...]
[Congratulations! Obtained: Gabriel Batistuta's "War God Goal" module!]
[Module Details: This is a comprehensive module that rapidly enhances shooting power and technique through training.]
There is a type of goal called a "World Wave goal," and among those, there is one known as the "Batistuta Goal."
It represents the most iconic thunderous strike in history—a versatile offensive weapon capable of scoring from anywhere, perfectly embodying the essence of aesthetic violence.
Suddenly.
Ling's head tilted to the side, and he fell asleep.
He seemed to dream of becoming someone else—transforming into that son of the Pampas who sought to push the limits of human power with his legs.
He became the undisputed shooting machine, the God of War of Fiorentina.
He became the conqueror of the Seven Hills, capable of single-handedly dismantling defenses and treating armies of opponents as if they were nothing.
In the face of his strikes.
Every team's defensive line and goalkeeper lived in a nightmare for every second of the match.
He silenced the roar of Camp Nou, reducing the noise by 100 decibels.
He was unleashing furious shots, one after another!