April 26th.
The echoes of the Manchester derby had yet to fade, and the city of Manchester was still wrapped in a feverish atmosphere.
Across landmarks such as the City Tower, banners celebrating the victors fluttered proudly in the wind.
...
Liverpool's training ground.
Klopp roared toward the pitch, "Pick up the tempo! Press harder! Did none of you watch yesterday's match? Did you see how Manchester United pressed?"
Hearing that, Liverpool's front three gritted their teeth and raised the intensity of their press, forcing the white team into losing possession before launching a quick counterattack.
Firmino paused for half a second.
He waited until Salah had made his run, then slipped a precise through ball into the channel.
The Egyptian King drove his shot into the near corner.
Goal!
Salah's curly hair swayed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"We're only three points behind Manchester United now, and two behind Manchester City. There's still hope for the title."
For Liverpool, the ideal outco would have been a draw between the two Manchester clubs, followed by Manchester United beating Manchester City.
After all, if Manchester City had taken all three points, Liverpool would have needed them to lose twice in the remaining fixtures to overtake them.
That was almost impossible.
"We have two Champions League matches in early May. We need to put enough pressure on Manchester United so they slip up in the final league gas," Mané added.
When he chose to join Liverpool, aside from the generous salary, what truly drove him was the pursuit of trophies.
But so far, had they won anything?
No.
Not only had they failed to win the biggest prizes, like the Premier League or the Champions League, they had not even claid the League Cup, the FA Cup, or the Community Shield.
"Right now, our goal difference is twenty-three better than Manchester United's. If they lose just one match, we'll go top of the table," Alexander-Arnold said, his eyes full of anticipation.
Compared to Manchester City, Liverpool's resentnt toward Manchester United ran much deeper.
The rivalry between the two clubs went beyond football. It was tied to city pride, industry, history, and personal dignity.
Last season, when Ling was still playing as a winger, he had spoken to the dia shortly after the North West Derby.
"Trent's attacking ability is decent," Ling had said, "but his defending... you know Arica's famous Route 66? It's so wide you could drive six cars side by side."
After that, the nickna "Route 66" spread rapidly among European fans.
Alexander-Arnold was furious about it.
He had thought about firing back on social dia, but no matter how hard he racked his brains, he could not co up with the right words.
Because all anyone had to do was post a compilation of him being dribbled past.
Any excuse would collapse in the face of the evidence.
"In the league match the day after tomorrow, Manchester United's players probably won't have fully recovered yet. Let's hope Chelsea can slow them down," Van Dijk said, though even he did not sound particularly convinced.
Everyone in football knew Chelsea were on the verge of falling apart—dressing-room unrest, players refusing to renew their contracts, and all kinds of problems piling up at once.
They had even been held to a draw by Burnley in the previous round.
Relying on Chelsea to stop Manchester United felt even less realistic than hoping Huddersfield Town could do it.
"Enough. Don't waste your energy worrying about what other teams are doing. The most important thing is to focus on ourselves," Klopp said sternly.
Then he finally unveiled the tactics board.
"Based on the last few matches, using Mané as a false nine has worked brilliantly. Salah, Origi, you two will take responsibility for the buildup play on the flanks. The final pass will co through Firmino, and Mané, you focus on timing your run into the box and finishing the move."
"..."
The Premier League was not only the stage for Guardiola and Mourinho.
Klopp was also one of the most respected tactical minds in world football, and his transformation of Liverpool was already nearing completion.
If it had not been for Coutinho's sudden departure, that process would have been completed long ago.
Klopp sighed inwardly and addressed the Liverpool players again.
"Next, we continue refining our tactical structure. We need to establish our overall movent patterns before the Champions League semi-final."
"As for the defensive side, we don't need to allocate too many extra resources. Virgil will continue to mark Ling closely throughout."
Finally, Klopp murmured in a low voice, "Manchester United used high pressing to beat Manchester City, but that tactic won't work against us. We press even more aggressively than they do."
If Mourinho wanted to repeat the sa trick, Klopp would not mind teaching him a lesson.
When it ca to high pressing, Klopp had absolute confidence.
He believed, without hesitation, that he was the best in the world at it.
Seeing the confidence in their manager's expression, the Liverpool players were fired up as well.
"Let's go! Crush Manchester United's title dreams!"
Alexander-Arnold shouted excitedly, clenching his fist.
——
The Manchester United players, who were occupying Liverpool's thoughts, were currently soaking in ice baths at the training base.
"In yesterday's match against Manchester City, I ran a full 9.7 kiloters. That's a career record for !"
Maguire leaned against the side of the tub, beaming proudly as he boasted.
"A full 9.7 kiloters? How can you even brag about that? Do you know Ling's numbers?"
Ander Herrera knew he himself had not run much, so he brought up Ling instead.
When everyone turned to look at him, Herrera revealed the answer.
"He ran 9.4 kiloters in just fifty-five minutes. Almost as much as you did in the entire match!"
"Are we even comparable?"
Maguire imdiately shot back, unconvinced.
"Well, I ran eleven kiloters, and I'm a centre-back too."
As soon as David Luiz finished speaking, the bathroom fell silent.
"Don't keep making fun of Harry. As a sweeping centre-back, running too much isn't always a good thing." Ling smiled and ca to Maguire's defense.
Hearing that, Maguire grinned and said, "Ling understands !"
"By the way, did the club say when they're renovating the base? I'm not asking for the sa ridiculous standards as Manchester City, but we can't keep having problems like this!"
Mahrez sounded a little resentful.
During the coldest months in Manchester, the base's hot-water system had broken down, forcing the players to go ho to shower.
One ti, he had almost frozen to death.
In truth, many players had complained before.
Carrington was simply too old.
It had been in use since 1995, which ant it had already been around for twenty-four years.
"I heard the club is planning to build a new training base," Ander Herrera said.
He had always had a wide range of sources.
Then his tone shifted. "But it definitely won't be for us. We'll just have to put up with this place a little longer."
They chatted casually, enjoying the brief peace that ca after a victory.
...
The next day.
Ling walked into the café at the training base, where ndes was already waiting for him.
"This is the new contract Manchester United have prepared for you."
ndes handed over the contract and gave him a brief analysis.
"Since you're already on the highest salary in the Premier League, there isn't much room for another major increase. You're also limited by the club's salary structure. So I think we should focus on endorsents and performance bonuses, especially your share of jersey sales and image rights."
Ling took the contract and read through it carefully.
Although he had not studied the relevant legal details himself, he knew ndes would not cheat him.
After all, their interests were tied together.
Moreover, through their recent interactions, Ling had found ndes to be quite reliable.
ndes handled everything off the pitch, allowing him to focus entirely on football.
Professional matters should be left to professionals.
"Let's proceed with your suggestion."
Ling trusted ndes' judgnt, then added, "By the way, try to secure a few more youth academy places."
"Don't worry, I've already communicated with the Chinese side about thatThey'll be sending several talented youngsters over for trials soon. Perhaps in a few years, you'll see them playing in the Premier League."
ndes smiled as he spoke.
"I hope so," Ling nodded.
Chinese football still had not cleared out its deep-rooted problems and remained in a long rebuilding phase.
The road to revival would undoubtedly be difficult.
"Why aren't you going to Italy anymore?"
Ling did not dwell on the topic for too long and asked casually instead.
"Juventus were knocked out of the Champions League, and Cristiano Ronaldo's lawsuit is over. I'll be staying in the UK for a while."
At the thought of Cristiano Ronaldo's situation, ndes felt another headache coming on.
Champions League elimination, fourth in the scoring charts...
None of his numbers were especially outstanding.
But considering Cristiano Ronaldo was already thirty-four, which was late career by football standards, his performances were still respectable.
However, there was no longer any real hope of him winning the Ballon d'Or this season.
That was beyond question.
So ndes no longer hesitated.
He decided to allocate all his resources toward Ling.
"Ling, do you think you can win the league and the Champions League?"
ndes suddenly asked.
After all, ssi had already won La Liga, the Copa del Rey, and the Spanish Super Cup, and he was also La Liga's top scorer.
If he won the Copa América as well, the Ballon d'Or race would beco uncertain again.
But if Ling could win the Premier League, the Champions League, and the FA Cup, he would beco the first-ever quintuple winner in Premier League history.
At that point, the Ballon d'Or would undoubtedly be his.
"Honestly, the league feels more certain. Chelsea, Huddersfield, and Cardiff City aren't particularly strong, so they shouldn't cause too much trouble."
Ling did not pretend to be modest.
"But the Champions League is different. Facing Liverpool in the semi-finals will be extrely difficult. Whether we can get past them or not, no one can say for sure."
"True," ndes agreed.
Liverpool were third in the Premier League standings and were a strong team in their own right.
Their tactical style was also direct and intense, which often made them even more dangerous in cup competitions.
Even though Manchester United had won the previous two North West Derbies, both matches had been brutally difficult.
"Cristiano once ntioned to that he might consider returning to Manchester United in two or three years. Perhaps the two of you could even beco teammates."
Seeing the mood grow heavier, ndes cracked a joke.
As for how much of it was true and how much was false, only ndes himself knew.
"Our positions overlap."
Ling did not spell it out fully, but his aning was clear.
He would not give up his position, and Cristiano Ronaldo certainly would not compromise either.
How could they possibly be teammates?
Would Manchester United have to copy Real Madrid's dual-striker system?
That would an Ling would have to play a supporting role to Cristiano Ronaldo.
"Haha, I'm only joking. You two really wouldn't be a good fit."
ndes smoothed things over.
Afterward, the two discussed several contract details before waving goodbye and leaving the café separately.
...
The day before the match against Chelsea.
Ling arrived at the University of Manchester to take his final exam.
Modern Football Economics.
The core theory was simple: the most important commodity in football is the player.
To be honest, Ling had been neglecting his studies a little lately.
Fortunately, with the help of his substitute teacher, he had managed to avoid anything embarrassing, such as failing the course.
"I'm going to an exhibition in Spain tomorrow. Is there anything you'd like to bring back for you?"
Maria walked beside Ling across the campus.
"Hmm... how about so Spanish ham? The one your mother brought last ti tasted pretty good."
Ling did not have anything specific in mind.
"That ham was my father's prized possession. Only a little over a thousand are produced in Iberia each year, and you can't even buy one unless you place an order years in advance."
Maria's laughter rang out like silver bells. "You ate quite a lot of it that day. He was heartbroken afterward."
"Ahem. Did your father act differently after he went back yesterday?" Ling coughed lightly.
After the match the day before yesterday, he had not dared approach Guardiola, afraid that the man might have misunderstood sothing.
After all, their relationship was complicated.
"He's just been replaying the match over and over again. He keeps saying he's going to 'settle things with you'!"
Maria's eyes curved into crescents.
She had thought Guardiola would be devastated, but it was not as bad as she had expected.
But after thinking about it, that made sense.
How could Guardiola admit defeat so easily? He still had to lead Manchester City and build the Blue Moon dynasty.
Just as he had said before.
No one stays lucky forever. Perhaps next ti, the lucky ones would be Manchester City instead of Manchester United.
"I look forward to that day."
Ling said it sincerely.
Respecting your opponent ant respecting yourself.
He did not deny that Manchester City were growing stronger, but Manchester United would not stand still either.
In the end, football was a sport where strength did the talking.
—
After a few minor incidents, the date finally arrived.
April 28th.
The third-to-last round of the Premier League.
Manchester United versus Chelsea!
Old Trafford.
"Chelsea like to move the ball quickly through midfield and attack directly through their forwards. In that sense, they're quite similar to us."
Mourinho pointed at the tactics board.
"But their high-tempo style is rough. Their midfielders' passing lacks precision, and their forwards' ability to take chances is limited. They don't pose much of a threat to us."
"The consequence is that their midfield can't push forward effectively, and once they lose the ball, they can't drop back quickly enough to defend."
"So all we need to do is stay solid defensively and counterattack when they make mistakes."
"Just be careful of Hazard."
"..."
Mourinho did not say much more.
In his eyes, Chelsea were not a major threat.
As long as the Manchester United players perford steadily, scoring would only be a matter of ti.
"Did you know?"
Maguire had turned into a gossip enthusiast again.
"Hazard is transferring to Real Madrid next season. I heard they've already reached an agreent."
The dressing room imdiately buzzed with excitent.
Mourinho did not stop them either. A little pre-match chatter could help the players relax, and it might even improve their performance.
"And Barcelona are interested in Willian. Doesn't it feel like Chelsea are about to rebuild?"
Mahrez could not help comnting.
Herrera, however, looked toward Mourinho.
"Boss, did Chelsea approach you?"
Given Abramovich's temperant, Sarri would probably be sacked at the end of the season, and finding a new manager for Chelsea had beco a difficult issue.
"? I definitely won't go back."
Mourinho shook his head.
He really had received an invitation, but how could he possibly return?
After all, being Chelsea manager was no easy job.
From "the Tinkerman" Ranieri to "the Special One" Mourinho, Chelsea had changed managers thirteen tis in less than sixteen years.
"I heard Lampard is coming back."
Herrera suddenly joined in again.
Valencia chuckled slyly and said, "Then Chelsea are dood next season. They probably won't even keep a European place."
When the staff ca to remind them, Ling cut the casual conversation short.
"Let's go. Let's take down Chelsea!"
---------
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