"Oh, my God, Samba committed a serious foul from behind on Li Yufei."
"Look at Li Yufei writhing on the ground in pain. This doesn't look good!"
"The referee is running over—red card! The referee has shown Samba a red card!"
"No question about it. Samba was clearly going for the man, and he went in with his studs showing. That's a clear-cut red-card offense."
"The referee's decision was swift and absolutely correct!"
Blackburn Rovers were trailing 1–4 and now faced the prospect of playing with ten men against eleven. At this point in the match, there was little doubt about how things would end.
On the sidelines, Wenger saw Li Yufei lying on the pitch in pain, and his expression changed dramatically. His usual calm and composed demeanor shattered in an instant.
"He committed a crime! He assaulted my player with no regard for decency or limits. He must be severely punished!"
Wenger, completely out of character, let the fourth official have it.
"Mr. Arsene, please calm down. Samba has been sent off. Trust the refereeing team's decision—we won't protect a thug."
The fourth official hurriedly explained the situation to Wenger.
With an ordinary coach, the fourth official wouldn't have been so polite. He might even have issued a warning.
But Wenger was a veteran manager of one of the Premier League's great clubs. Even referees spoke to him respectfully unless there was no other choice.
That was also why world-class managers like Ferguson and Wenger were always trying to put pressure on referees.
To some extent, their pressure could influence a referee's decisions.
If a referee rashly sent Ferguson or Wenger—managers who in a way represented the image of the Premier League—up to the stands,
they would face enormous media pressure afterward. It was the last thing the refereeing team wanted.
So in most cases, even the authority on the pitch wouldn't readily pick a fight with managers of Ferguson or Wenger's stature.
At that moment, Wenger was consumed by regret.
If he'd known this would happen, he should have taken Li Yufei off much earlier.
Just a few minutes' delay had led to this unexpected disaster. Wenger was so furious he wanted to curse!
After all, every one of his plans for Arsenal's future depended on Li Yufei staying healthy.
Without that foundation, what was the point of talking about the future?
And that wasn't all. Even whether the transfer budget would be fully funded was now a huge question mark for Wenger.
He knew very well that Li Yufei's father had invested during this transfer window purely for his son's sake.
Otherwise, Arsenal would have to support themselves as usual, and the idea of spending freely in the transfer market would be nothing but a pipe dream.
"Robin, you're on." Wenger called Van Persie over after his warm-up and made the substitution without hesitation.
Li Yufei spent a full minute rolling around on the grass before finally getting up with an exaggerated limp. Supported by Fabregas, he made his way to the sidelines.
"Li Yufei, how are you feeling? How's your body?" Wenger took Li Yufei from Fabregas and immediately checked on him with concern.
The team doctor also hurried over to examine him.
"Boss, I'm okay. But I want to fake it for a while and take a few days off. That way, I can sit out England's European Championship qualifiers in a few days."
When Li Yufei leaned in and whispered to him, Wenger felt relieved.
In his experience, anyone sneaking around like this was probably in perfectly good shape.
"Sure, I understand how you feel. You can skip the National Team. I don't want you playing too many matches at your age anyway. It won't do your body any good."
As a Frenchman, Wenger certainly didn't want Li Yufei playing for the National Team. He was better off focusing on his club.
After all, whether Li Yufei played for England or America, he wouldn't be playing for France.
So Wenger wholeheartedly supported Li Yufei pretending to be injured to avoid the FA's call-up.
"But you have to let the club examine you thoroughly and make sure you're really fine before you play again," Wenger added.
He wasn't a doctor, so he couldn't tell whether Li Yufei was genuinely injured or just pretending.
If it was the latter, everything was fine. But if it was the former, Wenger would have to consider whether Li Yufei should play again this season.
Compared to Li Yufei's health, Wenger didn't care that much about this season's results.
As long as they finished in the league's top four and secured Champions League football next season, that was enough.
As for winning a trophy, Wenger wasn't overly concerned.
With Li Yufei around, it was only a matter of time before Arsenal won one.
At last, Li Yufei hobbled "painfully" down the players' tunnel, supported by the team doctor.
Seeing this, Taylor in the stands felt her heart ache.
As soon as Li Yufei entered the dressing room for an examination, Taylor, as a player's family member, went straight to his side.
"Darling, how are you feeling? Does it hurt? I saw that thug make such a vicious tackle on you from the stands. I wanted to pull out a gun and shoot him!"
No wonder she was an American girl. Her racial instincts toward Black people showed themselves without even meaning to.
"Mei Mei, I'm fine. I did it on purpose. I haven't decided which country I want to play for yet, so I'm using this injury to stall for now. The European Championship qualifiers start next week, and I need to stay out of them."
Seeing her man frantically wink at her, Taylor burst out laughing and ruffled Li Yufei's hair.
"You little schemer! How did my Brother Frye get so clever?"
After teasing him for a moment, Taylor turned serious and asked, "Doctor, is there anything wrong with Brother Frye's leg?"
"So far, everything looks fine. But we'll need to run some more tests."
Taylor let out a breath of relief and nodded. "That's good. Thank you, Doctor."
"No need to thank me. Li Yufei is the club's most valuable asset. No one here wants to see him get hurt."
The team doctor made a lighthearted remark, then stood and took his leave, giving the couple some privacy.
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