Chapter 1 London Under the Night

The London Bridge under the night sky was resplendent with shimmering light.

The Thames River seemed to be draped in a colorful skirt belonging to the Queen of England.

"Rainbow Old Lady."

"The Other Side of the Coin."

People on the riverbank slowed their pace, listening attentively, faintly sensing the surging passion erupting from Stamford Bridge in the distance.

"Next, we will introduce the starting lineups for both sides."

"Chelsea's formation is 4-2-3-1."

"Goalkeeper: Buffon."

"Defenders: Azpilicueta, David Luiz, Cahill, Rudiger."

"Double defensive midfielders: Kanté, Fabregas."

"Attacking midfielders: Hazard, Li Kang, Willian."

"Forward: Morata."

-

[Isn't 4231 the most balanced formation, good in both attack and defense?]

-

[No, it depends on the individual's style and characteristics. For example, this starting lineup is definitely not a traditional balanced formation.]

-

[Just looked at the Premier League top scorer list, Salah, Li Kang, and Kane are far ahead of the others.]

-

[The temporary Champions League top scorer list... Salah, Firmino, and Li Kang are also far ahead of the others.]

-

[Really? Is Liverpool so awesome now? I thought the main striker was Benteke!]

"Paris Saint-Germain's formation is 4-2-3-1!"

"Goalkeeper: Areola."

"Defenders: Alves, Thiago Silva, Kimpembe, Kurzawa."

"Double defensive midfielders: Motta, Verratti."

"Attacking midfielders: Mbappé, Neymar, Di Maria."

"Forward: Cavani."

-

[Does Paris have no one else? Letting 35-year-old Motta start.]

-

[He's been in good form this year. Apart from a decline in physical confrontation, he's getting better with age in other aspects. Even young players can't compete with him.]

-

[Who is Motta?]

-

[The originator of Barcelona's marriage refusal flow.]

-

[The male lead of the Busquets face-covering incident.]

-

[Male lead template, young Motta vs. Zidane.]

-

[Spent his childhood in Juventus' youth training, a latecomer to La Masia, Barcelona's main midfielder at 18, seriously injured at 20, returned at 23 as a key player and won the Champions League, seriously injured again at 24, sold to Atletico Madrid for 1.5 million euros at 25 due to persistent injuries, later became a free agent... Joined Inter Milan at 27, twice initiated attacks from defense to offense in the semi-finals, defeated Barcelona, and was the core midfielder of Inter's treble-winning team.]

With the referee's whistle.

The match officially began.

Paris Saint-Germain had possession.

Cavani kicked off and passed back to Motta.

Motta is the "Van Gaal's improved version of the number 4 position," with attribute points leaning towards individual attributes, becoming a super-assisted hub.

Van Gaal has improved the La Masia number 4 position twice, and one version of the finished product is Motta, who is "de-centered."

He believed that few players in later generations could possess Cruyff's brain, and this change could greatly improve the compatibility of players in different frameworks, allowing them to thrive even after leaving the Barcelona system.

He's a king-level midfielder who can adapt to any team and excels in the "transition attack" phase.

However, this also indirectly led to Motta's ability to launch "independent attacks" in the "defensive area" being the most mediocre in "data" among all generations of number 4 players.

Xavi's career path was different.

In his youth team and early first team days, he played the "orthodox La Masia number 4 position."

Old Van couldn't perform major surgery on him.

No matter how he changed it, it wouldn't be suitable.

Later, the Spanish national youth team coach, Iñaki Sáez, allowed Xavi to try a more advanced playing style in the 1999 World Youth Championship and the 2000 Sydney Olympics.

Many years later, there was the story of Guardiola and "Xaviesta."

"Paris Saint-Germain is playing very smoothly tonight."

"The passing routes are very reasonable."

"Advancing into Chelsea's half."

"The ball is lost."

"Taken back again."

Time passed by minute by minute.

The scene was slightly dull.

Motta patiently organized Paris Saint-Germain's advance.

But the football was constantly being knocked out of bounds by Chelsea players.

Paris Saint-Germain, actively counterattacking and determined to reverse the situation, seemed to be punching the Thames River.

Tuchel's right hand occasionally pressed down, signaling his players to suppress the opponent's rhythm.

VIP box.

Abramovich anxiously scratched the back of his hand.

"Why are we always letting the other side control the ball? Why are we always kicking the ball out of bounds?"

Technical director Petr Čech quickly explained, "The strategic inclinations of the two coaches are different at the beginning of the match. We led by three goals in the first leg, there's no need to rush..."

Abramovich interrupted, "Of course I know that!"

Chelsea changes coaches very quickly.

Even if you win the championship and meet the club's objective needs, you must also satisfy the owner's spiritual needs... For example, during Mourinho's first term, even after the young Robben returned, they still had to play beautiful, coordinated, and fluid attacking football.

16th minute of the match.

Paris Saint-Germain finally got a chance to speed up.

"Alves passes the ball to Neymar."

"The pace suddenly picks up!"

Chelsea's midfield barrier formed a four-man defensive matrix.

Neymar, who has gained weight, never plays fancy tricks in difficult situations.

Protecting the ball and turning around.

Forcefully pushing away Fabregas.

Dribbling diagonally to the left!

Then suddenly stopping, stepping, twisting his waist, bending his knees, lowering his shoulders, and then breaking through in the opposite direction, accelerating away!

"The footwork is too dazzling, everything happened too quickly."

"Dazzling but simple."

"There are many support points around him."

"Kanté's frontal interception!"

Neymar didn't get entangled with the French little black egg, nor did he pass a safe ball back to transfer the pressure to his teammates.

He joined Paris Saint-Germain to be the team's core!

He must shoulder the responsibility of breaking the deadlock.

Pa!

Neymar dodged and weaved, squeezing out a passing angle.

The football lightly picked over Chelsea's defense!

Falling straight to the left side of the penalty area.

"Mbappé, it's Mbappé on the left!"

Paris Saint-Germain's "four hundred million reckless" is actually a bit contradictory.

Neymar and Mbappé are both left-wing players.

In ordinary matches, the young little black egg has to play on the right wing, after all, it is too slow to cross-switch to the other wing during the formation of the "independent offensive chain."

After suffering a defeat in the first leg, Emery reflected deeply and redeployed the front line formation.

Barrage of comments flew by.

-

[If Neymar transferred to an upper-tier Premier League team, his threat as an attacking core would be even greater, right?]

-

[His dad wouldn't agree, Paris Saint-Germain pays more.]

-

[Neymar has the most endorsements this year, 38, but the endorsement fees are only one-third of Messi and Ronaldo's. It's all his dad's random deals, which infuriated the NR agency team.]

-

[His dad took an underwear ad, asking Neymar to show his underwear in the game.]

Mbappé unloaded the football.

Unable to adjust his body posture for a moment.

Because Azpilicueta's reaction was equally quick, quickly putting pressure on the genius little black egg.

"Kurzawa's insertion is timely."

"Mbappé pushes the ball over."

"The Paris full-back makes a horizontal pass!"

"The football sweeps to the center."

"The space for attack is open."

"Cavani uses his back to make a pass!"

"Neymar's forward insertion..."

Paris Saint-Germain, on the verge of collapse, had morale soaring.

Bang!

Neymar shot!

The football roared and hit Cahill's butt!

Stamford Bridge was filled with cheers.

Paris has a top-notch attacking group, but Chelsea's defense should not be underestimated.

The football lost control.

Bouncing towards the right half of the field.

Fabregas and Motta seemed to have predicted its rolling trajectory in advance.

The masterpieces of two generations of La Masia youth training unfolded their first head-to-head encounter tonight.

The result...

Neither of them touched the ball.

The former deliberately let the ball pass, while the latter waited for the opportunity to kick.

The football bounced unbridled through Fabregas's legs.

A black shadow with an afro sped past in the right half of the field.

"Willian!"

"Galloping forward!"

"Paris Saint-Germain needs to quickly organize their defensive positioning!"

Willian dribbled the ball past the center circle.

Slowing down his pace, tilting his body.

Pa!

The football hugged the grass and leaped towards the left half of the field.

Li Kang sprinted forward.

Unloading the football with his left foot while running.

"No unnecessary adjustments."

"One stop, one unload, so smooth."

"The football is like a part of his body."

Stamford Bridge stadium erupted in deafening cheers from the home fans.

From a God's-eye view.

Countless blue stars rose from the four stands, converging into blue rivers in mid-air.

Power of faith.

"Paris fans don't need to worry too much."

"Thiago Silva learned from the first leg and intercepts head-on."

"Teammates are in position to assist, blocking the connection between Li Kang, Hazard, and Morata."

"Verratti is about to catch up."

"The overall defensive efficiency of the formation is too high."

"Li Kang is isolated and helpless, unable to advance to the thirty-meter area."

Li Kang slowed down his pace.

Adjusting his steps.

[Blue Angel (Legendary Module) triggered.]

[All faith power has been consumed.]

[Energy is being enhanced into a concrete form.]

Accompanied by the roar of a young beast.

In Li Kang's vision, a blue phantom condensed.

Number 10 jersey.

Messi.

"Here, have some tucker!"

Thiago Silva, Verratti, and Kimpembe formed an encirclement.

About to shrink the defensive spacing and complete the annihilation.

Li Kang's movements completely overlapped with Messi's phantom.

The next moment.

Everyone was stunned.

Thirty meters from the goal.

Under the premise of three-man interference.

Li Kang raised his left foot in the left half of the field.

Hazard looked astonished.

Morata stared blankly.

The Paris defenders were clueless.

Bang!

Accompanied by a crisp sound.

A dark shadow, like a sharp blade, pierced through Paris Saint-Germain's defense.

The football hugged the grass and swept towards the right side of the goal.

Areola quickly made a save... to no avail.

The Philippine goalkeeper looked at the trajectory of the football, doubting his life: How could it bounce twice after rolling into the penalty area?

The net was lifted from bottom to top by the rolling football.

1:0!!!

Stamford Bridge suddenly erupted in a landslide-like cheer.

"Beautiful!"

"Goal!"

"Reverse ground ball!"

"The broadcast technical animation... gives the distance between him and the goal, 31.85 meters!"

"Left half, left foot, far post, 31.85 meters, ground ball, bounce... These words combined are too contrary to the common sense of fans."

"Unbelievable."

"Shocking the world."

"Inconceivable."

"The aggregate score is now 4:0, the suspense of qualification is getting smaller and smaller, but there is still a lot of time left for Paris Saint-Germain in the match..."

Live broadcast room.

The big screen replayed Li Kang's goal from various angles.

Barrage of comments flew.

-

[Terrifying!]

-

[I thought this ball was going to be passed to Morata.]

-

[The shooting posture is so handsome.]

-

[Reverse ground ball! The Paris defenders would never have thought of such a kick!]

-

[I thought Messi's ground ball highlights were already invincible, but I didn't expect someone to be as brave as him!]

-

[Cahill blocked Neymar's shot with his butt, and used the rebound of the football to forcibly create this transition attack, Fabregas leaked the ball, Willian made a wide-range transfer, Morata and Hazard opened up the attack, and Li Kang made a fatal blow!]

Li Kang spread his arms in place.

His teammates rushed forward one after another, excitedly scratching his black hair.

Teacher Berenta once said: "If you don't know what celebration action to use, let your teammates celebrate for you."

The entire Stamford Bridge was echoing with the name of the hero.

This time, there was no vast blue river of stars.

Only a few stars slowly floated over.

Gradually.

There wasn't a single drop left.

The home fans' power of faith was exhausted again this week...

Hungry.

Chelsea, from top to bottom, is hungry for European honors.

They didn't have Champions League to play last season, and now they're almost into the top eight.

"Li, I knew you could kick it in."

"Yeah, I guessed you were going to shoot, so I ran to take Alves away!"

Some were happy, some were sad.

Areola leaned on the goal post, gently pounding it. The Philippine youngster already had a premonition: After the two legs against Chelsea, his position as the main goalkeeper for Paris Saint-Germain... even God can't save it.

Kimpembe scratched his crotch and said, "Alphonse, as a yellow-skinned person, you should be proud of Li, which goalkeeper hasn't had his goal broken by him?"

While comforting him, the little black egg also reached out and touched Areola's head.

Thiago Silva sadly clutched at the grass.

Neymar stared gloomily at Cahill's butt. How could someone use their butt to complete such a smooth "transition from defense to offense"?

Mbappé picked up the football from the net and silently ran back to the center circle, his expression calm.

Sideline.

Tuchel excitedly took off his baseball cap, his bald head reflecting the spotlights.

Dino breathed rapidly:

"Boss, Li is amazing, who would have thought he would shoot in that environment... Well, your offensive design is also great!"

"The aggregate score is leading by 4 goals! We can qualify even if we just sit still on the coaching bench!"

On the other side.

Emery looked helpless.

He vigorously rubbed his face, quickly adjusted his mentality, and continued to direct his players.

Even if they lose, they must leave Stamford Bridge with their heads held high.

VIP box.

Bang bang bang!

Abramovich excitedly pounded the table.

Čech, in a suit and leather shoes, quickly bent over to catch the glass that fell from the table.

"That's what I call football!"

"Quickly build a statue for Li outside Stamford Bridge stadium!"

The staff members looked helpless.

Build a statue? Logically speaking, you have to wait until Li plays for Chelsea for a few more seasons.

Anfield Stadium.

More than an hour before the start of the match.

Messi, holding a tablet after finishing his warm-up, looked shocked.

On the screen, the slow motion replayed Li Kang's shooting action frame by frame...

(End of this chapter)