The pre-match press conference.
Manchester United manager Van Gaal sat upright, his expression stern.
His plump hand straightened the red tie against his chest.
The reporters eagerly began asking questions.
As usual, Van Gaal was easily provoked by the press.
On one even more outrageous occasion... he had become so caught up in an argument that he actually picked up a tactics board and explained his pre-match plans in detail, leaving the opposing coach bewildered: You're letting me take an open-book exam?
Gradually, the Manchester United manager grew red in the face and began angrily firing back:
"Hmph! Don't ask such ridiculous questions. How many young players have I discovered?"
"In all of Europe, no one is better than me at developing and transforming talented players."
"Why are you questioning me? Which newspaper are you from? How many titles have you won?"
"When I coached Ajax, I boldly put my faith in Kluivert, the De Boer brothers, Davids, Van der Sar, Overmars, and Reiziger! I transformed Bergkamp and Rijkaard!"
"When I coached Barcelona, I refined the La Masia No. 4 Position and promoted the young Xavi and Iniesta! Spain won three consecutive major tournaments and built a dynasty. Do you know why?"
"When I coached Bayern Munich, I discovered Müller and Alaba, and changed Schweinsteiger's and Badstuber's positions! The Germany National Football Team lifted the FIFA World Cup Trophy this year. Do you know why?"
"You dare slander me and claim I won't play Li? Bastards! I will definitely give him time off the bench tonight!"
Old Trafford.
The stadium was packed, every seat occupied.
Many Asian faces dotted the bowl-shaped stands.
Red banners bearing Chinese slogans added an Eastern resonance to the roars of the Theatre of Dreams.
Go, Li Luo!
<The Theatre of Dreams never sleeps-the opening chapter of Li Luo's legend!>
<Manchester United's future! The future of Chinese football! A rising superstar carrying our hopes!>
Li Luo sat on the bench, his gaze vacant.
He had worked hard to settle his nerves in the dressing room, but now Old Trafford looked to him like a red beast roaring without end... its overwhelming noise poured down from all four stands like a flood.
He felt tiny, like an ant scorched beneath countless gazes.
Would I make a fool of myself tonight, like a monkey in a zoo? With tens of thousands watching here, and countless more watching around the world?
Fuck, I'm almost scared out of my mind.
"Zhuangdian'er TV! Zhuangdian'er TV! We bring you live coverage of the opening round of the 2014/15 Premier League season: Manchester United at home to Swansea City."
"The camera has turned to Li Luo on the Red Devils' bench."
"The Chinese prodigy looks calm, his body language composed."
"He holds the stars within him, still waters running deep."
"A pine-scented breeze brushes his face, yet he remains as steady as a mountain."
"Light turns within a vessel of jade, his pure heart shining upon itself."
"..."
"We can sense in him the masterful bearing of legendary midfielders through the ages: unruffled, with every move planned..."
The commentator spoke excitedly, his emotions surging.
Coach Zhang nodded repeatedly. "Heh, heh, heh. Young players promoted to the first team are usually so nervous on their debut that they make mistakes, but from the looks of things, Li Luo doesn't have that problem."
Comments flew across the livestream chat.
-[Li Luo is so handsome, even I have to concede defeat.]
-[Hubby!]
-[I want to work as a cleaner at Old Trafford. What if Li Luo falls in love with me?]
-[This feels amazing. It's been years since a Chinese player competed in Britain, and Li Luo is wearing a Manchester United shirt, no less!]
-[The pride of Asia!]
-[The prince of the Theatre of Dreams!]
-[And he's a midfielder, too. The commander! The engine! The brain! The leader! The general!]
-[At the Asian Cup in a few months, Li Luo will definitely lead the China National Football Team to punch those Korean punks, kick those Japanese punks, and conquer Asia!]
-[Guys, Manchester United are awful right now. They play like shit. I really don't want Li Luo leveling up there. He'd be better off developing at a strong Bundesliga or Serie A club. Winning games earns you experience faster.]
Tweet!
With a blast of the referee's whistle, the match officially began.
The cheers at Old Trafford grew louder and louder.
Sitting on the bench, Li Luo tried hard to take in everything happening on the pitch, but he could make no sense of it.
He couldn't understand any of it.
He couldn't understand the intentions behind his teammates' runs or the changes in either side's formation.
He couldn't understand the gestures the coaches were making in the technical area.
Time slipped by.
The match reached the eighty-fifth minute.
The overhead LED screen displayed a score that infuriated the Red Devils' fans: Manchester United 1-2 Swansea City.
Boos rang out everywhere.
The bowl-shaped stands filled with curses:
"Fuck you! Give us our money back!"
"Did that £135 million in summer signings just vanish into thin air?"
"Bloody hell, you've got to feel sorry for De Gea in goal!"
In the technical area.
Assistant coach Giggs looked deeply anxious and couldn't help suggesting that they bring on Di Maria, the "Angel."
Van Gaal remained expressionless, ignoring him as he continued scribbling in his little notebook.
South Americans? He hated them most.
Although, whenever the Ballon d'Or vote came around, Van Gaal always secretly voted for Lionel Messi.
"All right, Li's back from warming up. Tell him to get ready to go on!"
"Yes, chief!"
"In the Premier League, you must call me Boss!"
When Li Luo heard Giggs call his name, despair immediately welled up inside him.
There's no escaping it after all.
In the closing stages of the match, his Premier League debut had finally arrived.
Giggs took his training bib, then bent down to tie the young Chinese player's laces. His tone was gentle. "Don't be nervous. Play according to the instructions I gave you in the dressing room. A 4-2-3-1! You're the middle man in that three!"
"Manchester United haven't got much time left. Don't waste time building play. Be bold and drive through the wide channels."
Li Luo: "..."
The pressure was immense.
Especially with the Manchester United coaching staff looking at him... their eyes full of expectation.
When the Chinese teenager appeared beside the halfway line.
Chinese fans around the world were beside themselves with excitement.
The CCTV-5 commentator began speaking more rapidly:
"Manchester United are making their final substitution."
"Coming off the bench is eighteen-year-old Li Luo!"
"A gifted Chinese midfielder, a jewel of Manchester United's academy, carrying the hopes of countless fans."
"After so many years, a Chinese player once again steps onto the elite stage of Europe's top five leagues!"
Applause surged like a tide.
Tens of thousands cheered.
The camera focused on the touchline: the Chinese teenager exchanged a high five and a hug with Mata, then stepped into the Theatre of Dreams, facing the wind.
Li Luo was nervous.
So nervous he could hear his own heartbeat.
He couldn't get his breathing under control, either.
He forced himself to start running, trying to close down the opposing player on the ball, yet he felt like a lone boat adrift at sea.
The football rolled swiftly across the turf.
Li Luo had no idea where he should go next.
He didn't know which direction to take.
Manchester's night wind cut like a sharp blade, lashing mercilessly at a man running around like a headless chicken.
The viewers watching on television felt their hearts sink, but the commentary rekindled their hopes in an instant.
In the CCTV-5 broadcast booth.
The commentator and Coach Zhang sounded delighted:
"Good!"
"Good! He's running his heart out!"
"What a fighting spirit!"
"Li Luo's determination on the pitch is something we can all learn from."
Gradually.
Li Luo's nerves reached their breaking point. His body trembled, and his steps involuntarily slowed.
Why?
Why do my legs feel like they're filled with lead when I've got plenty of energy... why can't I run?
His breathing grew increasingly erratic.
I'm done running. If I make a fool of myself, so be it.
What else can I do?
If a great crack had suddenly opened in the pitch, Li Luo would have jumped into it without hesitation.
To everyone watching...
Was this kid taking a stroll?
The commentator and Coach Zhang looked utterly astonished:
"What?"
"This..."
"The king of football's style!"
"This is the king of football's style!"
"After possession changed hands, Li Luo switched to the king of football's style!"
"Heh, heh, heh. He's skipped years of the detours Lionel Messi had to take."
"Looking back at the recent FIFA World Cup, there was one match where Lionel Messi covered only 7.5 kilometers. He spent long stretches walking, yet delivered one goal and two assists, creating the most efficient attacks with the least running."
"Unlocking defenses, studying tactics, reading the game."
"Li Luo truly is a gifted midfielder, with an innate understanding of tactics."
"Controlling the entire game with effortless composure."
"He strolls beneath the moon among the clouds; the mountain stands still, and the wind rises around it."
Swansea City's coaching staff were baffled.
What the hell was this?
What bizarre tactics were Manchester United trying now?
Head coach Garry Monk froze for a moment, then began gesturing frantically in the technical area. "Don't let your guard down! Get tight to Li! Don't let him have a single touch!"
The coaching staff had carefully studied the footage before the match: Li Luo was unstoppable when facing forward. Receiving the ball in the attacking third, he could drive past defenders, play through balls, or dictate play-a terrifying triple threat.
On the other side.
Giggs tugged at his hair in bewilderment.
What was the Manchester United Crown Prince doing?
Van Gaal's brows knitted tightly, then his eyes suddenly lit up. "Brilliant! Li has drawn out two Swansea City defenders!"
"He's created a weak side for Manchester United!"
"A creator of space!"
"Blind! For fuck's sake! Play the diagonal long ball!"
Smack!
A breathtaking arc traced its way across the sky above the Theatre of Dreams.
The ball plunged toward the open space on the left edge of Swansea City's penalty area!
"Rooney!"
"Here it comes!"
"No first touch! A volley!"
"Wow! What a save from Swansea City's keeper!"
"Brilliant!"
"Manchester United have won a corner in the dying moments! They were inches away from equalizing. Since 1972, the Red Devils haven't lost their opening Premier League match at home in forty-two years!"
"Let's watch that Manchester United attack again... Huh? Li Luo drawing the defenders away?"
In the CCTV-5 commentary studio.
The slow-motion replay showed Manchester United's attacking move.
The commentator watched intently. "Coach Zhang, what do you make of that?"
Coach Zhang took a sip of tea, his voice brimming with excitement. "That's very sophisticated play! Li Luo's run... positioning! There are shades of Cristiano Ronaldo there. Top-level mind games off the ball. By feinting with his movement, he drew two Swansea City defenders toward him and created space on the weak side for Manchester United!"
"You could say that Li, at just eighteen, already has the potential to become a superstar."
"Incredible creation of space. He could become... China's sharpest sword."
In the livestream chat.
-[Oh, so that's what happened. I almost thought Li Luo couldn't play! I was just thinking they'd be better off putting me on!]
-[That's next-level! Fucking awesome, my man Li!]
-[He's so handsome.]
-[A master.]
-[A strategist commanding victory from a thousand miles away.]
Li Luo had never played football and knew nothing about the psychological duels between opponents on a Premier League pitch.
The two Swansea City players marking him kept jabbering away, doing their best to disrupt the Manchester United prodigy's "concentration." They put on vicious expressions and unleashed a barrage of "trash talk" to get inside his head.
"Kid, don't move around, or I'll take you out."
"I'll break your legs."
Throughout Premier League history, plenty of foreign players and youngsters had been intimidated into losing their composure, making mistake after mistake.
Some had even-quite a few, in fact-been frightened to tears or kicked to tears during Premier League matches.
Li Luo wasn't scared. Instead, he looked up and started chatting with them. Where was home? How many people were in their families? Oh! There was a daughter in the Taylor family too? Around his age?
After chatting for a while, he really did feel much better.
He wasn't so nervous anymore.
It was just that the two Swansea City players kept nervously spreading their arms, grabbing his arm, and pressing against his chest.
After a few minutes of play.
Li Luo deeply regretted putting his attribute points into heading. There wasn't even a chance to head the ball... And even if there were, he was so short...
The fourth official raised the LED board.
Three minutes of stoppage time.
Manchester United treasured this chance from the corner, sending their forces into Swansea City's penalty area!
Rooney planted both hands on Li Luo's shoulders and "moved" him into position at the far post.
At this point in history, lower- and mid-table Premier League teams placed great emphasis on defending set pieces. Swansea City manager Garry Monk issued another order. "You idiots! Li's so short, you don't need to mark him tightly on set pieces!"
"He's so short!"
"He can't head the ball!"
According to the video footage, Li Luo's heading was utter shit. His ability to contest aerial balls during attacking or defensive set pieces was practically nonexistent.
At 173 centimeters tall, what threat could he possibly pose against Swansea City's towering, powerful back line?
At the corner flag.
Blind raised his left hand.
Then he took two steps back, swung his arm, and swept his leg through.
Smack!
The ball rose off the turf, spinning fiercely as it flew toward Swansea City's penalty area.
The tallest players on both sides leaped into the air.
None of them reached it.
The ball dropped straight toward the far post...
There stood a "frail" figure from China!
Old Trafford fell briefly silent.
Van Gaal's eyes widened.
Giggs gripped his water bottle in a daze.
Li Luo looked up and saw something white hurtling down at him.
His mind was still occupied with how many seconds remained before he could "clock off."
In that instant.
His heading stat of 58 made him react instinctively, on reflex.
He drove through his core.
And snapped his head.
A Swansea City defender sprinted over, desperately trying to cover... but he was already too late.
Smack!
The fiercely spinning ball changed direction on its descent and rocketed toward Swansea City's goal.
Clang!
The ball slammed into the post and ricocheted into the net.
The Swansea City keeper, launching himself into a full-stretch dive, wore a look of utter shock.
2-2!!!
In an instant, Old Trafford shook to its foundations.
The close-up camera trembled beneath the avalanche of cheers.
The entire stadium erupted.
"Brilliant!"
"It's in!"
"Li Luo, the eighteen-year-old youngster from China, lights up the Theatre of Dreams!"
Before you continue