Football: Start with the Kaka template, dominate the football field!

The treble-winning euphoria swept across Germany like a summer monsoon. As the players finally escaped one celebration and commercial event after another and entered a rare holiday, another war in the world of football had already quietly begun.

The summer transfer window is now open.

On the outskirts of Dortmund, at an open-air bar frequented by the players.

"A toast to Robert!"

Captain Kyle raised his beer glass to the star of the night—Robert Lewandowski.

"Salute to our best center forward!" Grosskreutz shouted the loudest.

"Respect... to that traitor who's going to Munich!" Reus said, half-jokingly and half-seriously, his eyes reddening.

Tonight is Robert Lewandowski's farewell party. As in history, the Polish striker chose to transfer as a free agent after his contract expired, joining Borussia Dortmund's biggest domestic rival, Bayern Munich.

Under the influence of alcohol, the atmosphere became somewhat complex. There were blessings, reluctance to part, and also a hint of something indescribable... a sense of betrayal.

Lewandowski downed his beer in one gulp, walked over to Qin Feng, and gave him a tight hug.

"Qin," his voice carried a hint of solemnity, "playing football with you was the most relaxing and enjoyable time of my life."

"Me too, Robert." Qin Feng patted him on the back. "I wish you all the best in Munich."

The two exchanged a smile, everything understood without a word.

……

Lewandowski's departure is just the beginning of a crazy summer.

The next morning, an exclusive report from the Spanish newspaper Marca was like a nuclear bomb, instantly shocking the entire football world!

The Bernabéu's Ultimate Confession! Real Madrid Officially Offers €1.2 Million for Qin Feng!

When Qin Feng saw this notification in his apartment, the coffee cup in his hand wobbled slightly.

Immediately afterwards, Mendes' call came as expected.

There were no unnecessary pleasantries on the phone, only a series of conditions that would leave anyone breathless:

The highest annual salary in the world.

The Bernabéu holds an absolute central position.

Zidane's personal guidance.

And... the future number 7 jersey for Real Madrid.

After hanging up the phone, Qin Feng sat alone in the shadows of the sofa, remaining silent for a long time.

For the next few days, he locked himself in his apartment. He refused all calls from Royce, Grand Cross, and others; the names flashing on the screen were like unbearable tortures.

He watched the Champions League final replay over and over again. When he saw himself deliver the winning goal against Real Madrid, kneeling on the ground, tears streaming down his face, a surge of vengeful pleasure still welled up inside him. He opened his tablet and pulled up a picture of the Bernabéu Stadium. That pure white sea, that magnificent football temple, had been his shared, unattainable dream across two lifetimes.

The story of revenge, returning as a conqueror, is undoubtedly the most perfect script in the world.

Immediately afterwards, he clicked on a video of Dortmund's championship parade. When he saw hundreds of thousands of fans in the streets singing hymns for him, and saw an elderly fan with white hair giving him a thumbs-up through a car window, tears streaming down his face, another completely different, warm and profound emotion enveloped him.

That temptation was tearing at his heart like a raging beast.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere was equally somber in the office of Borussia Dortmund CEO Hans-Joachim Watzke.

"1.2 million! Jürgen!" Watzke pointed to the faxed offer on the table, his voice filled with the excitement typical of a businessman. "We can use this money to buy three top players! We can rebuild the team!"

Klopp simply leaned against the window and shook his head.

"He's not in business, Hans."

"But he's not answering your calls!" Watzke said, somewhat irritated. "That means he's hesitant! What's the point of forcing him to stay if he wants to leave?"

"Then give him time." Klopp's tone left no room for argument. "This isn't a business deal; it's a young man's future. I believe in him."

……

That afternoon, Qin Feng felt a little irritable. He changed into casual clothes, put on a hat and mask, and went out of the apartment, wanting to take a walk.

Unbeknownst to him, he had walked to the vicinity of the Westfalen Stadium.

Outside the stadium, a few scattered fans still gathered, holding signs that read "Qin, stay!" and waiting anxiously.

Qin Feng didn't approach; he just glanced at it from afar before turning and walking into an official club store next door.

The store was bustling with people.

He saw three rows of jerseys hanging in the most prominent position. In the middle was Reus's number 11, next to him was Hummels's number 15, and on the other side was his own number 37.

He saw a father excitedly putting a small size 37 jersey on his son. The little boy, who was probably seven or eight years old, jumped excitedly in front of the mirror after putting on the jersey, trying to imitate his father's movements on the court, attempting a clumsy bicycle kick.

His father knelt down, straightening his collar as he smiled and said, "If you want to be as good as Qin, you have to train hard, understand?"

The little boy nodded vigorously, his eyes sparkling.

Just then, the little boy suddenly spotted a strange figure wearing a mask and hat in the corner. Unsure, he tentatively called out in a low voice, "...Qin?"

Qin Feng was stunned.

He looked into those clear, expectant eyes, and his heart felt as if it had been gently struck.

He slowly raised his index finger to the little boy's lips, making a "shh" gesture, and then winked at him playfully.

The little boy understood immediately, excitedly covering his mouth with his little hand, but his eyes crinkled into crescent moons with laughter.

Qin Feng turned around and walked out of the store.

Suddenly, a scene flashed through his mind: twenty years ago, when he was still a child, his father took him to buy his first football jersey. It was a Manchester City jersey with "SUN" printed on it.

That day, his father did the same thing, squatting down and saying to him, "If you want to be like Sun Jihai and win glory for the country, you have to play football well."

Two scenes, spanning different times and spaces, miraculously overlapped at this moment.

He suddenly understood something.

At Real Madrid, he might become a king in the public eye, a totem of a business empire.

But here, in this ordinary city that belongs to the working class, he is more than just a football star.

He is the dream of some, and the continuation of the dreams of others.

The beast that had been tearing at his heart fell completely silent at that moment.

He took out his phone and dialed the number he had been avoiding for several days.

"Boss, it's me."

On the other end of the phone, Klopp's voice betrayed barely concealed nervousness: "You...have you thought it through?"

"I've made up my mind." Qin Feng smiled, a genuine smile, more relaxed than ever before. "Help me reply to Mr. Florentino."

"Tell him that Dortmund's number 37 is not for sale."

……

That afternoon, Borussia Dortmund officially rejected Real Madrid's offer, citing Qin Feng's personal statement.

The news sparked an even more pure celebration in the entire city of Dortmund than when they won the championship!

This news also attracted the attention of their arch-rivals. Bayern Munich president Karl-Heinz Rummenigge, in an interview, made a rare comment: "I'm not surprised by this. Some things money can't buy, like loyalty. Dortmund is lucky in that respect."

A few days later, at the team's first training session after regrouping.

Klopp didn't say anything, but when Qin Feng entered the training field, he went over and gave him a tight, manly hug.

As Qin Feng ran towards his teammates, Reus winked at him with a smile: "Hey, Mr. 'Not for Sale,' now that you're staying, it's my turn to take the free kicks next season, right?"

Qin Feng smiled and bumped fists with him.

At the same time, the club officially announced that it had signed last season's Serie A Golden Boot winner, Ciro Immobile, from Torino in Serie A for €1940 million.

On the training field, when the Italian striker first saw Qin Feng, his eyes were filled with scrutiny and curiosity. Qin Feng, in turn, was also sizing up his new partner who would soon be fighting alongside him.