Nyon, Switzerland.
By Lake Geneva in April, the winter snow had long since melted. The distant Alps still wore a few white caps, but tulips and daffodils along the shore had already eagerly unfurled the colors of spring.
A light breeze carried the vitality of spring.
Ancelotti sat in the back seat of the business van, resting with his eyes closed.
Giggs sat beside him, watching the lakes and mountains slip past outside the window as he muttered softly, "God bless."
Ancelotti opened one eye. "I've never believed in God. I only believe in Li."
Li Luo unfolded the newspaper in his hands, smiled, and pretended not to hear.
Gradually, everyone fell silent during the journey.
The vehicle followed the lakeshore toward the center of Nyon.
It was hard to associate this scenery with the fact that more than two hundred years earlier, on these same shores of Lake Geneva, Geneva's son Rousseau had written The New Heloise.
Those words of blazing passion and forbidden love stood in stark contrast to the tranquil spring scene before them.
The story's premise was simple: Abelard fell in love with his young student Heloise. After they secretly married, Heloise's uncle discovered them and had Abelard castrated. In the end, they separated in anguish and could only pour out their love of the soul through letters for the rest of their lives.
Outside UEFA headquarters, the crowd had long been buzzing.
The photographers, who had been drowsy from the spring weather, suddenly snapped awake.
Click, click. Flashes flickered.
"Li! Look over here!"
"So handsome!"
"Our superstar!"
Li Luo smiled and waved.
Ancelotti lagged a few steps behind and was bombarded by reporters outside the cordon. "Every team is afraid of drawing Manchester United. What do you think?"
The Italian manager remained composed. "To