Mei Mei's Heart Aches, National Team Problems

"Oh my God, Samba just committed a serious foul from behind on Fry."

"Looking at Fry writhing in pain on the ground, this doesn't seem good!"

"The Main Referee runs over—red card! He's shown Samba a red card!"

"No question about it. Samba's foul was purely aimed at the man, with a clear studs-up motion. This is an absolute red-card offense."

"The Main Referee's decision is decisive and absolutely correct!"

"With Blackburn Rovers trailing 1-4 and now facing a 10-vs-11 situation, there's basically no suspense left in this match."

On the sidelines, Wenger saw Li Yufei crumpled in pain on the pitch and his face went pale. His usual composed demeanor shattered in an instant.

"He's committing a crime! That was an immoral, bottomless personal assault on my player! He must be severely punished!"

Wenger, breaking character, unloaded on the fourth official.

"Mr. Arsene, please don't get worked up. Samba has already been sent off. Trust our refereeing team's decision—we won't shield the culprit."

The fourth official quickly explained to Wenger.

With most coaches, the fourth official wouldn't be so polite and might even issue a warning.

But facing a veteran Premier League manager like Wenger, even the referees spoke gently unless absolutely necessary.

That's why world-class bosses like Ferguson and Wenger always loved pressuring referees.

Because their pressure could, to some extent, influence the referee's calls.

If a referee rashly sent Ferguson or Wenger—managers who, to a degree, represented the Premier League's image—to the stands, the post-match media backlash would be enormous. That wasn't something the refereeing team wanted to see.

So, under normal circumstances, even the arbiters on the pitch wouldn't easily clash with coaches of Ferguson or Wenger's caliber.

At that moment, Wenger was filled with nothing but regret.

If he'd known this would happen, he would have subbed Li Yufei off much earlier.

Just a few minutes of delay had led to this unforeseen disaster, and Wenger was so furious he wanted to curse!

He knew that every future plan for Arsenal was built on Li Yufei staying healthy.

If that foundation crumbled, what future was there to talk about?

Forget everything else—even whether the transfer funds would still flow in was a huge question mark for Wenger.

He was well aware that Li Yufei's father had only invested in this transfer window because of his son.

Otherwise, Arsenal would still have to fend for themselves, and big spending in the transfer market was nothing but a pipe dream.

"Robin, get in there." Wenger called over Van Persie, who had finished warming up, and made the substitution decisively.

Li Yufei rolled around on the grass for a full minute before theatrically getting up, leaning on Fabregas as he returned to the sideline.

"Fry, how are you feeling? How's your body?" Wenger took Li Yufei from Fabregas and immediately began checking on him.

The team doctor also rushed over to diagnose him.

"Boss, I'm fine, but I want to play it up and fake an injury for a few days. That way, I can dodge England's European Championship qualifier in a few days."

Seeing Li Yufei whisper in his ear, Wenger breathed a sigh of relief.

From past experience, anyone pulling sneaky stunts like this was probably fine physically.

"Alright, I understand. Skip the National Team if you want. I don't want you playing too many games at your age anyway—it's not good for your body."

As a Frenchman, Wenger certainly didn't want Li Yufei playing for the National Team. Focusing on the club was enough.

After all, whether Li Yufei played for England or America, France wasn't in the picture.

So Wenger fully supported Li Yufei faking an injury to dodge the FA's call-up.

"But you have to get a thorough check-up at the club to make sure you're really fine before you keep playing," Wenger added.

He wasn't a doctor and couldn't tell if Li Yufei was genuinely hurt or faking it.

If it was the latter, great. If the former, Wenger would have to reconsider whether Li Yufei should play at all this season.

Compared to Li Yufei's health, Wenger didn't care much about this season's results.

As long as they finished in the top four and secured Champions League football for next season, that was enough.

As for the title, Wenger wasn't chasing it obsessively.

With Li Yufei on the team, Arsenal winning the championship was only a matter of time.

In the end, Li Yufei limped off the pitch, supported by the team doctor into the player tunnel.

From the stands, Taylor watched with a heavy heart.

The moment Li Yufei entered the locker room for examination, Taylor, as a player's family member, rushed to his side.

"Darling, how are you? Does it hurt? When I saw that thug foul you so badly from the stands, I wanted to pull out a gun and shoot him dead!"

True to her American roots, her racial bias against black people slipped out without thinking.

"Sister, I'm fine. I did it on purpose. I haven't decided which country to play for yet, so I'm stalling with an injury. The European Championship qualifiers start next week—I need to dodge them."

Seeing her little man frantically blinking at her, Taylor let out a chuckle and ruffled Li Yufei's hair.

"What a clever little rascal. How did my Fry brother get so smart?"

Taylor teased him a bit, but then turned serious and asked, "Doctor, is there anything serious with Fry's leg?"

"From what I can see, there's no problem—everything's normal. But we'll need to run further tests."

Hearing this, Taylor let out a sigh of relief and nodded. "That's good. Thank you, doctor."

"No need to thank me. Fry is the club's most valuable asset—no one here wants to see him hurt."

The team doctor cracked a joke, then stood up and took his leave, giving the couple some privacy.