Dusk fell, painting the sky over Manchester with a touch of deep orange.
At that mont, in the press conference room of the Carrington Training Ground, a special interview with China's LeSports was underway.
Zhan Jun, his face beaming with pride, pointed at the cara and said with a warm smile.
"Ling, why don't you start by greeting the millions of fans watching back ho?"
Jeremy Ling, bathed in the soft studio lights, waved naturally.
The cara loved him.
There was no trace of the awkwardness or shyness typical of an 18-year-old thrust into the global spotlight.
"Hello everyone, I'm Jeremy Ling. It's an honor to be here."
"Then let's officially begin the interview," Zhan Jun said, his expression shifting to one of professional curiosity.
"First, the question everyone wants to ask. The 93rd minute at Anfield. The North West Derby. What was going through your mind when you scored that last-minute winner?"
Zhan Jun's expression was sowhat complex.
On one hand, Liverpool was the team he had supported his entire life.
On the other, the young man in front of him was his fellow countryman, a source of imnse national pride.
"Honestly," Ling began, letting out a short, nervous laugh, "after I hit it, my mind went completely blank. I saw it curl, I saw it hit the post... and then I just heard this... this silence. A total absence of noise. Then the away end, which was miles away, just exploded."
"I didn't even realize it was the winning goal," he admitted. "Not until Ander and Rolu were on top of screaming. But when it finally sank in... well, it would be hypocritical to say I wasn't thrilled."
Ling spoke at length, his passion for the mont evident.
Finally, he added, "And this goal... it holds a significant, personal aning for . It represents proving myself, proving I belong here, in a foreign land. It ans that all the effort, all the hours... it wasn't wasted."
Zhang Lu, the veteran comntator sitting nearby, applauded softly upon hearing this.
He pointed at his tablet, which displayed a docunt.
"The club provided us with your personal training plan. It barely includes any leisure ti. It's... intense. What drives you to keep up this level of dedication?"
Instead of talking about dreams or glory, Ling gave a disarmingly candid answer.
"Well... to be blunt, it's because I needed the money. My parents sacrificed everything to send abroad to play football. They took out loans, they worked extra jobs. I couldn't let that sacrifice be for nothing."
The conference room fell silent for a mont.
This was not the polished, dia-trained answer they had expected.
Zhan Jun, visibly moved, remarked with emotion.
"So, do you usually feel a lot of pressure? The pressure of your family, of a nation, of playing for the biggest club in the world?"
Though Ling's face still carried a touch of youthful innocence, his words were anything but.
"Pressure?" he mused, pausing to think. "What is pressure? Pressure is when the poor worry about feeding their families. Pressure is wondering where your next al is coming from." He gestured around the multi-million-pound training facility.
"This... this is football. It's a privilege. This holds no pressure at all."
Before Zhan Jun could express their surprise, he continued.
"That's sothing the boss once told . I found it very aningful, so I rembered it."
"Yes, that does... that makes a lot of sense," Zhang Lu nodded, deeply impressed.
He went on, "Since the start of the season, your performances have been getting better and better. You even broke the record for the first male Chinese player to score in the Champions League."
"Now, many young players back ho see you as a role model. What would you like to say to them?"
Ling pondered for a mont before replying earnestly, "Talent is crucial in football, of course. But if you don't have enough of it, or even if you do, you need to invest even more effort and determination. You have to work when no one is watching."
"I believe that as long as you persist in training and commit wholeheartedly to your craft, you will never walk away empty-handed."
Truthfully, he knew that for now, he could only offer words.
He didn't yet have enough influence.
Only by continuously climbing higher, by winning honors, and by consistently deciding matches like the one at Anfield, would he truly be qualified to be a role model.
And by then, he would also have the ability to do what he could within his power—funding youth training, promoting the sport, and building pitches back ho.
....
💬 LeSports Live Stream Comnts 💬
User: RedDragon88: "Wow, he's so humble! 'I needed the money.' What a real one! 😭"
User: Shanghai_Red: "That quote about pressure... chills. He's been learning from Mourinho. That's a champion's ntality."
User: Beijing_Go-Go-Go: "He's right! Talent is one thing, but look at his training plan! That's why he's where he is. All our young players need to see this."
User: LFC_Fan_in_Pain: (Liverpool emoji) "I'm still crying from the weekend, but I can't even hate him. He's too likable. Good luck, Little Ling."
....
"Well, thank you very much for Ling's advice to the young players," Zhang Lu said.
His expression suddenly darkened as he recalled his many years in football, witnessing so much potential and so few results.
'Does China have good players?' he thought.
'Certainly. But the problem lies in the system, the lack of coverage, the lack of opportunities for children to just... play'.
That's why he desperately hoped for a football superstar—a Yao Ming for football—to erge, leading by example and encouraging a new generation.
"Next," Zhan Jun said, interrupting the somber mont, "we've selected the questions that fans are most concerned about."
Suddenly, Zhan Jun's forehead was covered in black lines as he read the next card, chuckling awkwardly.
"Well... this is from the fans, not . Since you have already co of age... what are your criteria for choosing a partner?"
Ling's mouth twitched repeatedly.
He fought to regain a serious expression.
"I'm... I'm not really considering personal matters at the mont. But, if I had to say, I suppose... compatibility is key. Soone who understands life."
Soon, the interview ca to an end.
Ling had initially thought about treating the two respected comntators to a lavish al in Manchester.
But unexpectedly, both Zhang Lu and Zhan Jun wanted to try the Manchester United players' canteen, saying they might not have the chance to co again.
So, Ling called Mourinho to request permission, and the manager, happy after the Anfield win, naturally didn't make any difficulties.
....
Night fell.
After seeing the two off, Ling returned to his dormitory, washed up, and prepared to rest early.
Today had been incredibly eventful.
Now that he had finally relaxed, he instantly felt a profound exhaustion seeping from every part of his body.
Lying in bed, Ling focused his mind and opened the system.
He studied it carefully.
Since completing the "Score 5 Goals" task last ti, the system hadn't issued any new types of tasks.
But after today's match, it had undergone significant changes.
[SYSTEM INTERFACE: UPDATED]
[TASK MODULE: SEASON 1]
[PRIMARY TASK: GOALS]
[--] Competition: Premier League
[--] Current: 4 Goals
[--] Stage 1: 5 Goals (In Progress: 4/5) -> Reward: [Gold Treasure Chest]
[--] Stage 2: 10 Goals (Locked) -> Reward: [Gold Treasure Chest]
[--] Stage 3: 15 Goals (Locked) -> Reward: [Gold Treasure Chest]
[--] Final Stage: Golden Boot (Locked) -> Reward: [Platinum Treasure Chest]
[--] Competition: UEFA Champions League
[--] Current: 2 Goals
[--] Stage 1: 5 Goals (In Progress: 2/5) -> Reward: [Gold Treasure Chest]
[--] Stage 2: 10 Goals (Locked) -> Reward: [Gold Treasure Chest]
...Task list continues...
[PRIMARY TASK: ASSISTS (All Comps)]
[--] Current: 4 Assists
[--] Stage 1: 5 Assists (In Progress: 4/5)
[--] Task Reward: [Gold Module Chest]
He analyzed the new layout.
The previous requirent of scoring 5 goals regardless of competition was likely just a prerequisite to unlock the full, separated task structure.
Thinking along these lines, the assist task was a high priority.
He was just one assist away from obtaining another gold module.
From now on, he would need to complete the system tasks step by step.
Considering the difficulty, it was substantial.
Even winning the Premier League Golden Boot would only yield a platinum treasure chest.
As for the mysterious Legendary Treasure Chest... he estimated that only by winning the Premier League or Champions League and having a high level of personal involvent (like being player of the tournant) would he have a chance to obtain one.
However, he wasn't greedy.
The Ronaldo template granted by the system was already a sea of knowledge, more than enough for him to study and learn from.
Too many modules and templates might lead to biting off more than he could chew, hindering the improvent of his own abilities.
Unconsciously, his exhaustion took over, and Ling drifted into a deep sleep.
....
The next day.
London, with its chaotic, beautiful blend of ancient stone and towering glass skyscrapers, was filled with a different kind of energy.
A modern, frenetic atmosphere of money and fashion.
A sleek, black comrcial vehicle with tinted-out windows and a subtle Manchester United crest on the door pulled to a stop in Mayfair.
Two people stepped out—one, David Beckham, handso in that mature, globally-recognized way; the other, Jeremy Ling, radiating a sunny, youthful energy that was fast becoming just as famous.
After a brief negotiation between the club, Ling's new agent and Beckham's team, they reached an endorsent contract: £1 million per year for the fashion brand DVB, which was founded by Beckham and Victoria.
The endorsent fee was, frankly, incredibly generous.
Firstly, Beckham, a United legend, was unlikely to low-ball a junior player from his old club—the embarrassnt if it got out wouldn't be worth it.
Secondly, DVB's annual sales weren't high and had been declining, even showing signs of losses.
So this contract, with few restrictions and only requiring advertisent shoots, could be seen as a small gift.
But Beckham was also playing the long ga.
£1 million was an investnt.
He saw Ling's potential.
He saw his marketability.
And he saw the untapped gold mine of the entire Chinese market.
He was securing a relationship before Nike, Adidas, and Puma started a bidding war.
He was buying low on a stock he knew was about to explode.
Two hours later, the contracts were signed.
"I hope we can continue working together for a long ti," Beckham said, shaking Ling's hand with a warm, genuine smile.
"I'm delighted to be the face of DVB," Ling replied, his smile equally bright.
This was the largest sum of money he had ever earned.
It was enough to buy several properties back in his hotown, enough to ensure his parents never had to work again.
Moreover, Mourinho had already discussed improving his club terms.
While it wouldn't reach Pogba's top-tier weekly wage of £290,000, an average team salary of around £100,000 per week was almost certain.
The future looked incredibly promising.
He reminded himself, however, not to get lost in the money.
It was crucial to rember that his skills, his hard work, and his system... that was the foundation of it all.
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