While fans were heatedly discussing, the match on the field had already resud.
After Ling was given more tactical resources—permission from Mourinho to be the team's pivot—he continuously used his dribbling skills to assault the opponent's defense.
This forced Huddersfield to allocate most of their defensive players to mark him.
Their ga plan, which had been a solid, organized block, now had a single, glaring focal point: stop number 23.
And Ling, having found his rhythm, seed to grow in confidence with every touch.
His form grew increasingly fiery.
In just a few dozen minutes, he left the right-back Tommy Smith and the midfielder Williams in complete disarray.
Smith was so twisted and turned that he resorted to a desperate, lunging foul.
Williams, beaten by a burst of pace, simply grabbed a fistful of Ling's shirt.
Unsurprisingly, both received yellow cards for their efforts.
Martin Tyler: "And there's another foul on Jeremy Ling. The Huddersfield players are simply resorting to hacking him down now. That's the second yellow card he's drawn in ten minutes."
Gary Neville: "Martin, there's a stat I'd like to share. With that foul, Jeremy Ling has now beco the player who has drawn the most yellow cards in the Premier League this season. And it's only October!"
Jamie Carragher: "Well, that's because they can't stop him legally, Gary! Look at him. He's not just a speed rchant. He's strong, he's clever, he invites the contact, and he rides the tackle. He's a nightmare for defenders."
Neville: "He is. Every ti you see him go down, your heart's in your mouth, but he gets right back up. He's tough. This isn't just a flash in the pan; this kid is a genuine, top-class problem. And he's single-handedly changed this ga."
Fortunately, as the comntary noted, modern football rules are relatively well-established.
Without deep-seated, personal animosity, players generally avoid using career-ending, dangerous moves like scissor tackles or studs-up challenges.
Returning to the match.
While Manchester United intensified their attacks on the left flank through their new talisman, Jesse Lingard cleverly weaved through the attacking third.
He was a ghost, using his trademark, chaotic-but-smart movent to disrupt the defenders' positioning and pull them away from the real danger.
Soon, Manchester United's relentless, lopsided effort paid off.
67th minute.
Ling received the ball near the touchline.
He was imdiately sward by two defenders.
He gave them no chance to tackle or foul.
With a single, deft touch—a product of his new Bergkamp-inspired training—he chipped the ball over the challenge and into the path of Juan Mata in the central area.
At this point, Huddersfield had concentrated their forces, pulling three, sotis four, players to the left side to stop Ling.
This left their right flank wide open.
Mata, the Matador, was already prepared.
He didn't even take a touch to control.
He let the ball run across his body and, with a sweep of his magical left foot, delivered a stunning, 60-yard cross-field switch to the galloping Antonio Valencia.
Valencia, overlapping on the flank, instantly accelerated, his engine still firing on all cylinders.
He overtook Huddersfield's exhausted full-back and, instead of crossing, drilled the ball toward the center with the power and technique of a shot.
It was low, hard, and vicious.
In the box, Rolu Lukaku made a "bully" run to the near post, dragging two defenders with him, creating a vacuum of space behind him.
Jesse Lingard, having ghosted in from midfield, smartly shook off his marker, sprinted into that exact vacuum, and t the drilled pass with a calm, one-touch tap-in.
1-2!
In less than 20 minutes, Manchester United had scored two goals, successfully and brutally turning the ga around.
After scoring, Lingard sprinted to the corner flag and flamboyantly perford his signature "Milly Rock" and then a robot dance, pointing to the na on his back.
This irritated the Huddersfield fans in the stands so much they wished they could jump down and beat him up.
If celebrations had tiers, De Bruyne's simple point to the sky was at the neighborhood level, while Lingard's was world-class—the kind of joyous, trolling celebration that could win its own Ballon d'Or.
Ling wisely stayed away from the choreographed display, knowing he'd likely be teased about it later if he joined in.
As expected, Mourinho soon began his "shutdown."
He substituted the attacking Mata for a defensive player and unhesitatingly, almost gleefully, parked the bus.
After all, playing two high-intensity matches in just a few days takes a heavy toll.
He had to win the match in the most pragmatic, "Mourinho-est" way possible.
This infuriated David Wagner on the opposing sideline to the point of wanting to vomit blood, but Huddersfield's attacking strength was limited.
They simply couldn't break through United's reinforced, tight defense.
Finally, with a long, final whistle from the referee, the match officially ended.
Huddersfield 1-2 Manchester United!
....
The Manchester United fans left the stadium satisfied and, surprisingly, no longer complained about the conservative tactics.
Because Huddersfield had scored that shocking first-half goal, they had all thought they would lose.
Now, the coback, the turnaround, had far exceeded their lunchti expectations.
That's just how people are.
....
User: '99_Treble_Winner: "Ugly as sin for 70% of the match, but I'll bloody take it! That's a classic Mou away win. Gritty. 3 points is 3 points."
User: StretfordEndSarge: "That Chinese kid played really well, especially that breakthrough for the first goal—it was absolutely brutal!"
User: ClassOf92Reboot: "A nearby fan gave a disdainful look. 'You're clearly a fake fan. What 'Chinese kid'? His na is Ling, and he grew up in our academy. I've known how to pronounce his na for five years! Get with the program!'"
User: RedDevilRich: "For the next match, I'm wearing my new number 23 jersey. He IS our attack right now."
User: GGMU_til_I_DIE: "He played so well, the club should honestly be considering him for the number 7 jersey next season. That kid symbolizes the new glory of Manchester United!"
....
On the pitch, the Manchester United players also breathed a collective sigh of relief.
The recent fixture congestion had been a serious challenge.
But fortunately, they had pulled through.
Then they rembered they were now unbeaten in nine league matches, and their moods instantly lifted.
Ling was naturally very satisfied as well—not only had he scored a goal, but the way he had done it was absolutely explosive.
That power, that directness... that was new.
'I'm definitely going to make headlines tomorrow,' he thought with a small, proud smile on his face.
Although he had been reborn into this life, that didn't an he had beco a passionless saint.
He also wanted more attention.
He wanted the support. He had his own desires.
For example, the much-hyped "China-South Korea showdown" that the dia was building up—Manchester United versus Tottenham in seven days.
That match was very, very important to him.
It wasn't about national pride or anything so grand; he just didn't want to lose to Son Heung-min.
He respected Son imnsely, but the online chatter was already billing it as the battle for the "King of Asia."
It was a matter of professional pride.
'I have to work even harder.' Ling pumped himself up again, feeling a new surge of energy.
....
🇨🇳 Bin City No. 24 Middle School
The next day.
Thousands of miles away, in China, at Bin City No. 24 Middle School.
Xiao Yan, a man around sixty years old, wearing thick, black-frad glasses, said solemnly.
"After all, your Class 5 ranks in the top three of the entire grade. If you don't get this promotion, what will the other teachers think?"
"Then... then thank you, Principal."
With things put so bluntly, Yan Lanxia, Ling's mother, couldn't refuse.
She had no choice but to nod and accept.
But she knew exactly what was going on.
The number of senior teaching titles available at the school each year was limited, usually only five to seven.
However, there were dozens of teachers vying for them, and with the excessive "subjective" factors in the selection process, securing a spot was extrely difficult.
So teachers worked their entire lives and retired without ever getting a senior title.
This year, the school had almost finalized the list... but then abruptly removed a "connected candidate" at the last minute to make room for her.
She knew this wasn't just about her class's performance.
"Um..." Principal Xiao Yan cleared his throat, his tone softening.
"I've watched that kid... Ling... grow up. I used to see him kicking a ball in the courtyard. Recently, he's been playing football in England, which is... well, it's a real credit to our country. Our city. Our school! I feel quite proud of him."
He hesitated for a mont before tentatively suggesting, "Do you think... perhaps... you could invite him to the school? To give a speech? Or just host an event? Let the kids interact with him up close, you know, experience the charm of football?"
He had both personal and public motives.
Given Ling's current, skyrocketing popularity, he had already broken into the mainstream.
A Chinese player performing so excellently in the Premier League and Champions League, coupled with his sunny appearance and clean private life, had attracted massive attention.
Moreover, the internet-famous Manchester United team frequently bought traffic in China, regularly pushing Ling to the top of trending searches.
They had discovered that their club's rchandise sales—jerseys, dolls, scarves—increased exponentially with Ling's playing ti.
Principal Xiao Yan wanted to increase the school's visibility and, more nobly, to enhance the sports atmosphere on campus.
"Principal, if Ling returns ho after next season ends, I can seek his opinion," Yan Lanxia replied carefully.
She didn't make a definitive commitnt, leaving herself room for flexibility.
"Alright, alright! Excellent! I understand Ling is very busy. Of course! If he can spare the ti, the school will fully cooperate with his schedule!" Principal Xiao Yan imdiately bead with joy, thinking the matter was mostly settled.
...
anwhile, in the classroom of Class 5, Grade 8, several students who usually skipped class to play football were now sitting, heads down, obediently studying at their desks.
The reason? Teacher Yan had promised them that the top three students showing the most improvent in their English scores by the end of the term... Would each receive a signed Manchester United jersey.
Although they were unlikely to pursue professional Football in the future, for a brief, shining mont, the power of a single role model was changing perceptions, one textbook at a ti.
Of course, everything remained uncertain.
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