By the time they returned to Manchester, it was nearly midnight.
After freshening up, the team headed to the city center, to the Ivy Restaurant.
The celebration banquet was a joyous affair.
Jeremy Ling raised his glass and addressed his teammates, "The boss once told me something: sometimes, you only realize how far you've come when you look back. We've beaten Atlético Madrid, Barcelona, and Liverpool along the way. Why not just keep on winning?"
Reflecting on Manchester United's Champions League journey this season, Ling couldn't help but marvel at the team's sheer misfortune.
Atlético Madrid were second in La Liga, Barcelona were first, and Liverpool were third in the Premier League.
Since entering the Champions League knockout stages, Manchester United hadn't faced a single weak opponent, nor had they encountered any teams from leagues other than La Liga and the Premier League.
If Manchester United could actually lift the Champions League trophy in the end, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say it would rank among the top three most hard-earned titles in Champions League history, would it?
"Let's not talk about the Champions League just yet. I joined Leicester City a bit too late to win the Premier League Title with them. We absolutely must hold our ground in the final league match."
It was clear that Maguire cared deeply about this; otherwise, he wouldn't have held back tonight, denying himself the chance to indulge his appetite.
"Cardiff City need three points to secure their league spot." Ashley Young set down his glass and looked around at the group.
"If they think they can intimidate us with physicality and fouls... they're being naive."
"Exactly. We need to show them we're even tougher, to put a perfect end to the league season," Ling nodded in agreement.
At the late-night celebration, everyone exercised restraint.
They all knew that holding back now was for the sake of the future, to avoid future regrets and heartache.
It was nearly 2 a.m. when the celebration finally wrapped up.
"Everyone, head back and get some rest early. Tomorrow's training has been moved to 3 p.m. No one is allowed to request leave or be late!" Ling waved goodbye.
Finally, he invoked Mourinho's name.
"We all know the boss's temper. Playing well in matches is one thing; attitude in training is another. He seems to be going through menopause lately, so it's best if none of us..."
The Manchester United players' expressions instantly turned serious, and they set multiple alarms on their phones.
As Manchester United's achievements continued to grow, Mourinho's authority had also risen.
While some players might have dared to challenge him before, no one dared to cross the line now.
After all, the punishment was real—being demoted to the youth team if very real!
Take Lingard, for example.
Although his punishment had ended, he was still relegated to the bench.
Sometimes, he didn't even make the matchday squad.
Manchester United certainly weren't short on players now.
If anyone thought they could rest on their laurels, the outcome wouldn't be favorable.
That's the nature of competitive sports—if you don't put in the effort, you'll be left behind.
Of course, Ling's words were somewhat exaggerated.
Mourinho himself had no idea he was going through menopause.
...
A short while later.
Ling sat in his chauffeured car, with his assistant beside him. "Regarding the European Golden boot, La Liga has concluded. Messi scored a total of 36 goals..."
Messi had been leading the European Golden Shoe race for a while, but as Ling surged in the latter half of the season, pushing his goal tally above forty, the European Golden Boot was effectively decided.
The assistant couldn't help but feel a hint of smug satisfaction as he relayed the news.
Because Messi had won the European Golden Boot for the previous two years, he was on the verge of creating an unprecedented record—winning the European Golden Boot three years in a row.
But then he was decisively surpassed by his own boss!
Moreover, the European Golden Boot is an award sponsored by Adidas.
Adidas certainly hoped Messi could retain the title, but this award is based purely on hard data, leaving no room for manipulation.
Unless they adjusted La Liga's point system upward or the Premier League's downward.
But if they did that, the European Golden Boot would lose its credibility, and there would be no need to continue awarding it.
Ling didn't pay too much attention to it, because he was still the one chasing.
In Messi's peak year, the 2011-12 season, he scored a total of 50 league goals.
Ling's goal was to break that record.
"Also, the commercial activities after the season ends have already been arranged for you by Mr. Mendes." The assistant continued outlining the schedule.
Ling carefully reviewed it for a while. "South Korea, Japan... There's no need to go to these places. They won't have much impact anyway, so I might as well take a few extra days to rest."
He wasn't counting on making money from those places.
Besides, back when Cristiano Ronaldo visited South Korea, he didn't even play, citing the controversies from the 2002 World Cup.
So, it should be even more understandable if he didn't go to promote activities there.
"Alright, I'll talk to Mr. Mendes about it tomorrow." The assistant nodded.
His boss was Jeremy Ling, and whatever the boss said went.
He just needed to follow through.
"From the end of the league season until the Champions League final, postpone all endorsement activities for me." Ling suddenly remembered something and instructed his assistant.
Money could be earned anytime, but if a championship was lost, it was gone forever—something that could never be made up for.
Before he knew it, he was back at his apartment in the city center.
Jeremy Ling freshened up and was ready to sleep, but he tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. He decided to open his laptop and review last night's match.
Since his rebirth, he had developed the habit of reviewing matches immediately after they ended.
Although his performance was nearly perfect and Manchester United had won, humans, after all, aren't machines, and mistakes are unavoidable.
"In the 28th minute, when I received the ball and broke past Arnold, my center of gravity shifted a bit too much. If it had been Kyle Walker, I probably would've been dispossessed."
"In the 64th minute, I shouldn't have turned and dribbled. The space on the left was already too crowded. A long pass to the right would've given Mahrez an easy shot."
"..."
Striving for perfection, endlessly.
Perhaps in the eyes of his Manchester United teammates, Jeremy Ling's life seemed too monotonous, but he found joy in it himself.
...
As the moon rose and set, the news of Manchester United's comeback victory over Liverpool to advance was spreading like wildfire across the internet.
Sports social media was flooded with related reports.
"A New 65-Year Champions League History: Manchester United Becomes the First Team to Advance After Losing 1-3 at Home!"
"A Super Comeback: Manchester United's Reversal Gene!"
"Manchester United's No. 7 with Two Goals and One Assist, His Value Soars Again!"
"Reportedly, Over Five Top European Clubs Have Made Huge Offers to Manchester United!"
"The €222 Million Transfer Fee Record Set by Neymar May Be Broken in the Upcoming Summer Transfer Window!"
"..."
Ling undoubtedly became the focal point of the football world.
A young player in only his second season, he had already won the Champions League and league double in his debut season, breaking the Premier League's long-standing goal-scoring record.
Everyone thought Ling had peaked in his debut season, but who could have imagined his second season would be even more explosive.
What about his potential? No one in his age group could compare.
It could be said that Jeremy Ling was the cornerstone of the team.
As long as he avoided major injuries in the future, his peak performance could last at least ten years.
This made other clubs extremely jealous—why did Manchester United get such a steal?
And precisely because of Jeremy Ling's remarkable example, overseas clubs also began paying attention to Asian players, hoping to nurture an outstanding talent of their own.
Compared to the frenzy in Europe, the enthusiasm in China was even more intense.
Especially in Jeremy Ling's hometown, Bincheng.
...
May 9, 2019.
Ling slept in for the first time in a long while, not getting up until the sun was high in the sky.
He knocked on the door of the guest room next door. "Dad, aren't we going to visit the training base? Hurry up and get ready for breakfast!"
"Ah, I'm getting old. Still can't shake off the jet lag," Ling Changzheng said as he walked out of the room, yawning.
Back in his younger days, staying up late to watch football was nothing.
He'd watch the Champions League until 3 a.m., go straight to school afterward, and still spend the whole day eagerly discussing it with his classmates.
"But son, your performance last night was absolutely brilliant!" Ling Changzheng gave a thumbs-up.
"Even though I don't understand much English, I could still catch a bit of it. The Manchester United fans were all praising you, and some even said I look like you! The best decision I ever made in my life was sending you abroad to play football."
"Back then, your mom was worried about you, saying it was the same in China. Heh, looking back now, it's a good thing we didn't listen to her. Too much motherly love spoils the child." Ling Changzheng kept talking to himself, his face beaming with pride.
And now, those relatives who used to mock their family were all showering them with praise whenever they met.
This had given Ling Changzheng a great sense of vindication.
"Is Mom really that busy at school? Can't she even spare a few days?" Jeremy Ling handed him a glass of water.
"Ever since your mom got her senior professional title, the school has piled on more work for her. She's always busy with one thing or another," Ling Changzheng said lazily. "I keep telling her to take it easy. She's almost fifty, worked hard most of her life—can't she just enjoy herself now?"
"You're the one who knows how to enjoy life, aren't you? Playing FIFA or Pro Evolution Soccer every day, and I heard you've even started playing in an amateur league?" Jeremy Ling smirked.
When it came to the amateur league, Ling Changzheng perked up.
He had loved football since he was young and even dreamed of going pro.
But his skills were simply too limited—he couldn't even make it into a youth training camp.
Now that he finally had the time and money, he was chasing his youthful dream again. He and a few other old-timers had formed a team and even joined the Bincheng Super League.
Though they were getting beaten pretty badly.
"When you come back to China, give us some special training. We can't keep finishing at the bottom of the league every year," Ling Changzheng said with a wink.
"Fine," Ling sighed. "Let me take you to eat first, then we'll visit the base. After that, my assistant will take you to the airport."
It's not bad for the old man to have a hobby—better than playing video games all day.
...
3 p.m. Carrington Training Centre.
The Manchester United players had arrived early and were already doing recovery training.
May in Manchester was already getting a bit stuffy.
Mourinho stood in the shadows, discussing transfer matters with Faria: "Lukaku has already decided to leave, though his next club is still under consideration. Chelsea was just exposed to a transfer ban, so Lukaku will most likely go to Inter Milan. So we need to find a backup for Ling. And we also need to strengthen both the left-back and center-back positions."
Mourinho frowned slightly.
With age, David Luiz could no longer meet Manchester United's requirements.
Ashley Young was in the same situation.
As for Luke Shaw, his abilities were limited, and his performance had been hampered since his injury.
The first leg of the Champions League Semi-final being dominated by Liverpool was partly due to weak left-side defense and partly due to tactical targeting.
Faria also grew worried.
The transfer window was always the most troublesome time of the year because there were too many things to handle—players coming and going, tactics needing redesigning—it was always a massive undertaking.
"I heard Real Madrid's offer for Ling has already reached 220 million euros?" Faria suddenly changed the subject.
"Yes." Mourinho clicked his tongue.
Even though he had weathered storms and seen grand scenes, he couldn't help but feel astonished at Real Madrid's extravagance.
Generally, a player's transfer fee would be higher than their Transfermarkt valuation.
Now, Real Madrid could splash out 220 million.
If Ling performed brilliantly in the Champions League final... Mourinho didn't even dare to imagine how crazy Real Madrid might become.
"But we can't possibly sell Ling. Well, unless Real Madrid can cough up 500 million." Mourinho shook his head.
Although Ling wasn't English, he had been in Manchester United's youth academy since childhood, making him a true Red Devil through and through.
To exaggerate a bit, he was practically Manchester United's crown prince.
Just look at how many graffiti portraits of Ling were on the streets of Manchester, and you could feel how much the Manchester United fans adored him.
If the Manchester United management really dared to sell Ling... Extreme fans might even throw Molotov cocktails or send threatening letters.
"Boss, even if football develops for another twenty years, we won't see a 500-million-euro player."
In Faria's era, Zidane's transfer from Juventus to Real Madrid only cost 77.5 million euros.
Now, with economic inflation, player values had multiplied several times over.
But it had pretty much reached its limit.
"Let's not talk about that for now. The match in three days is at Old Trafford. We need to rehearse the championship ceremony in advance. You should go along later," Mourinho said softly.
And, as luck would have it, Manchester City and Liverpool were also preparing to rehearse.
Well... just in case they won the Premier League Title.
Actually, this wasn't the clubs' idea but a requirement from the Football Association.
After all, had Manchester United secured the title early? No.
So Manchester City and Liverpool still had a chance.
Why couldn't they rehearse the championship ceremony?
Not only that, but even the victory parade route had to be planned in advance.
Let me give you an example.
The dramatic title race in the final round of Serie A in 2002 was so thrilling it left people breathless.
Before the final round, Inter Milan led with 69 points, Juventus trailed closely with 68, and Roma was third with 67.
Juventus faced Torino, with the Old Lady scoring first.
Inter Milan naturally refused to be outdone. Vieri helped Inter take the lead, celebrating so excitedly he took off his shirt.
But the joy was short-lived.
Lazio staged a thrilling comeback—equalizing, falling behind, equalizing again, and then taking the lead!
Oh, right, Ronaldo, who was playing for Inter at the time, was substituted early and ended up crying.
That may have been the most helpless and powerless moment of his life.
When referee Paparesta blew the long whistle, amidst the shouts of over 75,000 fans, Ronaldo stood motionless on the spot for a long time before his figure blurred into the celebrating crowd on the pitch.
As the saying goes, a lonely sorrow with whom to share?
All past vows now seem but empty air.
Alas, the prime of life never returns, and a day never dawns twice—such was the tragedy of the Nerazzurri back then.
But back to the main topic.
In recent days, Cardiff City fans have inexplicably multiplied.
Why, you ask? Because in the Premier League, apart from Manchester United supporters, all other fans neither hope nor wish to see Manchester United defend their League Title.
And at this moment, the Cardiff City players seem to have become dragon-slaying warriors!
They are not only fighting for a Premier League spot but also carrying the hopes of countless fans, brimming with confidence.