Guardiola's Final Decision: "In the winter window, get Onana for me!"

Recalling the past, Icardi covered his face with his hands, tears streaming down his face through his fingers.

Tang Long and Ranocchia exchanged a glance, understanding why Chivu had called them here for this farewell dinner with Icardi.

Scenes from the past flashed through Tang Long's mind like scenes from a movie.

At that time, Tang Long, who had just started using the AI Green Pitch Engine system, couldn't keep up with his thoughts with his footwork. Everyone thought his assists were just luck, but Icardi didn't think so.

As a top Serie A striker, Icardi possesses a natural talent for positioning; he can keenly perceive his teammates' passing intentions, a talent that belongs to him.

Therefore, even though Tang Long's passes were often not very good, only the route was right but the footwork was not quite right, Icardi could always arrive at the right moment and score with his superb ball control and shooting skills.

He never complained that Tang Long's passes were too light or too heavy, but he always gave him a thumbs up:

"Well said, Tang! A perfect prediction! We were on the same page!"

It was thanks to Icardi that Tang Long gradually established himself in Inter Milan, eventually becoming a key attacking midfielder under Mancini and embarking on his path to becoming a superstar.

Goal!

"Icardi scores, assisted by Tang Long!"

"If we absolutely have to give them a name, let's call them the 'Sugar-coated Cannonball' combo!"

"They cooperated and complemented each other; they couldn't live without each other!"

"No one can stop them from combining for a goal!"

"The crowd at the Meazza has gone completely wild!"

They were shouting the names of Icardi and Tang Long!

"Tangcardi!"

"Mauro, don't cry. Be a man and face your future." Ranocchia handed Icardi a piece of paper and patted him on the shoulder.

Icardi looked up, his eyes red and swollen, brimming with tears. He sniffled hard, making a muffled sound, took a tissue, and wiped his tears haphazardly while choking out, "Thank you, Captain!"

That shout of "Captain!" was like a jolt of electricity, instantly easing the somewhat oppressive atmosphere.

"Team leader."

Icardi repeated it softly, his voice trembling slightly.

This was the first time he had addressed Ranocchia so directly and emotionally since leaving Inter Milan.

In the past, they had faced each other many times in the Premier League. Icardi and Ranocchia were only rivals on the field, and they had never used such an affectionate nickname for each other in private.

But today, at this special moment, this title just came out naturally.

Ranocchia heard the call, his eyes lit up, and his originally deep eyes instantly shone with a different kind of brilliance.

He straightened up, his expression becoming serious and earnest, and finally opened up, saying:

"Good, Mauro, you still remember I'm the captain, that makes things easier."

He paused, his brow furrowing slightly, a hint of disgust in his eyes. "If you want to be a normal player, if you want to get back on track, you have to leave that woman Wanda. She's a disgusting gadfly, only good for greedily sucking your blood. Once she's drained you dry, she'll not hesitate to find the next target, just like she always does."

Upon hearing this, Icardi stiffened slightly, a complex expression flashing across his face.

After all, he and Wanda had been married for two years, and the various past events between the couple were not something that outsiders could easily understand.

Ranocchia's remarks were quite abrupt and inappropriate, as marital relations are a private matter and outsiders should not interfere.

Ranocchia naturally understood this as well.

He is 28 years old this year and will soon turn 30. As a mature player who has been through many years in the football world, and a mature man who has been tempered by life, he knows the basic etiquette of dealing with people by heart.

However, he couldn't care less about anything else at that moment, Icardi's "Captain," full of trust and reliance, instantly awakened the strong sense of responsibility deep in his heart as the leader of the Inter Milan locker room.

At this moment, in his heart, Icardi was still the little brother who needed his protection and guidance. He had to stand up and clear the fog in front of his little brother, even if his words were a little harsh.

He's the captain, so he has to protect his underlings!

Icardi's lips twitched twice, but he didn't answer.

Tang Long immediately replied, "Mauro, since the captain has already spoken, I'll be frank with you too. Look at my phone."

Icardi glanced at Tang Long's phone; a text message appeared on the screen: [Dear Tang, could you bring me some China silk? I really need your help—your friend Wanda]

Ever since Wanda got Tang Long's phone number at Inter Milan's Christmas dinner two years ago, she has been intentionally or unintentionally contacting him.

Especially after arriving in Manchester, Wanda would always text Tang Long asking him to bring her China specialties, but Tang Long never responded.

Icardi's eyes widened instantly, but his pupils contracted sharply, and his body trembled violently!

He was all too familiar with this scene.

Back when Icardi was playing for Sampdoria in Serie A, he was just an innocent young boy.

One summer vacation, while he was vacationing in the United States, he suddenly received a text message from Wanda, the wife of his teammate Lopez: "[Dear Mauro, could you bring me a brand new iPhone from the United States? They don't have any in Italy.]"

From then on Wanda, who was already married, became involved with Icardi.

When Icardi saw the same scenario playing out on Tang Long, he suddenly realized, "My God, how can it be the same rhetoric?!"

Tang Long clicked his tongue twice and shook his head.

"You know, Mauro, my agent Ronaldo once casually told me that when he first started his agent business, he came to Inter Milan's training ground to scout players. Actually, he had his eye on you and wanted to be your agent."

Icardi was taken aback. "What? Ronaldo is going to be my agent?" This was somewhat unexpected.

"But Mancini told him, 'Don't even think about it. His exact words were, "Your wife Wanda is a bad woman. Don't get yourself into trouble."'"

"Mancini is still Mancini. He has a sharp eye and saw through it long ago. Give yourself freedom, Mauro. Don't let this kind of woman stay by your side. Look at me, I've always been alone and never lived with a woman. Women will only hinder your football career. Only brothers can help you grow," Tang Long laughed.

Ranocchia, who was drinking water, couldn't help but spit it out.

"You're being too absolute. My wife treats me very well," he said to Icardi. "As for you, you've just had bad luck with people. But you're still young, only 23, rich, healthy, and while you're not as good-looking as me, you're still handsome, right? Why get together with someone like Wanda, who's rotten to the core? Don't you know what kind of person she is? Ten years ago, the Italy tabloids dug up her whole secret! You and that Lopez were both played by her."

At the hotel entrance, Icardi hugged and said goodbye to everyone.

Ranocchia opened his arms wide, his eyes filled with brotherly care.

Chivu stood to the side, a slight smile of encouragement on his lips, his eyes filled with trust. He straightened Icardi's trench coat collar and buttoned the top button for him, as if to tell him that the future still held infinite possibilities.

When she hugged Tang Long, she held him exceptionally tightly, her fingernails almost digging into the flesh of Tang Long's back.

Back when he was at Inter Milan, Icardi would do the same every time he received an assist from Tang Long to score. Sometimes, after a match, Tang Long's back would be covered with marks left by Icardi's fingers.

"Go, let go of Mauro, go back to Inter Milan, go back to where you made your name, and finish this season well. If you can help Inter Milan return to the UEFA Champions League, then you're still a man."

"Also, stop asking me how I kicked the same landing spin shot as Tang. Just do your job well," Chivu said.

Icardi was taken aback, thinking, "When did I ask about this?" Just as he was about to ask more questions, the taxi driver parked elsewhere urged him to get in. Icardi got into the car and waved goodbye to everyone.

The crowd watched the taxi drive south and disappear around the corner, as if it would keep going south, fly across the English Channel, set foot in Normandy, and then drive straight to Italy.

"Pioli will like him," Chivu said, pulling his collar tighter in the Manchester night snow. "He's a veteran of Serie A, not some good-for-nothing like Laino. I heard he specifically asked for Mauro in the winter transfer window. If Mauro can stay at Inter Milan at the end of the season, that would be perfect."

Snap!

In Manchester City's manager's office, Guardiola slammed his fist on the table and said to scout Raymond:

"Okay, it's settled then. In the winter transfer window, we'll buy Onana!"