Football: Messi, I am your wallbreaker!

Chapter 63 "Then let's beat Manchester United and Manchester City!"

A bustling street in Madrid.

A dark black, fully imported van was quietly parked in the shadows at the alleyway opposite the Westin Hotel.

Yang Fengying leaned back in the thick leather seat.

After taking photos of the two of them going into the room together.

She went back to the car.

She was wearing an extremely tight-fitting silk shirt, with the collar and sleeves slightly ripped.

The black car seatbelt stretched diagonally across her chest.

The extremely full and exaggerated curves make countless readers want to become that seat belt.

Yang Fengying seemed to have thought of something.

Yang Fengying's face, which was originally painted with a cold and stern professional makeup, blushed bright red at a speed visible to the naked eye.

She bit her lower lip and muttered a curse under her breath.

"Damn Li Jing, he's not hanging up the phone."

She could clearly hear rustling sounds inside.

Then there was the sound of flowing water.

Then came the sound of a chair being moved.

???

Yang Fengying blushed.

Alright, since we've already heard this much, I won't hang up, lest Li Jing say something wrong.

Yes, that's right, it's part of the job.

This guy—

hateful.

Was it intentional or accidental?

Yang Fengying rested her head against the car window again.

The carriage became quiet.

Yang Fengying's breathing rate unconsciously slowed down.

Even the sound of swallowing was kept to a minimum.

The next morning.

A detached villa in a wealthy neighborhood of Madrid.

The morning sunlight was just right, streaming through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows and casting a slanted beam onto the marble countertop of the open kitchen.

Li Jing was wearing an extremely loose-fitting gray cotton loungewear set.

A long-awaited morning.

Does Li Jing have a chance to make himself a cup of coffee?

He reached out and picked up the black French press from the table.

Li Jing's thumb rested naturally on the top of the French press teapot.

Slowly apply downward pressure and press down on the stainless steel filter.

The dark brown coffee liquid, steaming hot, flowed slowly from the spout of the kettle into the gleaming white porcelain cup.

Li Jing picked up the cup.

He walked to the leather sofa in the living room and sat down, casually placing his legs on the transparent glass coffee table in front of him.

He reached into the pocket of his loose pajama pants and pulled out his phone.

Press your thumb to turn on the screen.

Ten minutes ago, Yang Fengying sent over an extremely detailed electronic schedule document.

Li Jing swiped the screen to open the file.

The table is quite densely packed.

It not only marked all of Atlético Madrid's matches for the next month, but even specified the exact time of each day, from morning to afternoon.

But what made Li Jing frown was...

On the rest day after each game in this table.

Yang Fengying actually filled in the names of various popular domestic and international actresses with remarkable accuracy, along with their corresponding dating locations.

It was all a commercial hype trip.

Li Jing looked at those familiar names, and the fingers holding the coffee cup froze in mid-air.

His gaze swept over the packed schedule twice.

Damn it, does every single one have to be like last night?

Then.

Li Jing put down the cup in her hand, the porcelain bottom making a crisp sound as it tapped on the glass coffee table.

He held the phone in one hand, his fingers rapidly tapping on the screen.

He replied with a message very decisively.

"Um, you need to adjust your rest schedule."

"These things can only be arranged during a rest period with at least three match days in between."

"Any schedule that might affect pre-match training and the player's form in the next match is cancelled. No discussion."

Type the last word.

Sending complete.

Li Jing tossed his phone into the corner of the sofa, leaned against a cushion, and sighed silently.

Regardless of whether it's Simeone, the madman who runs all over the field.

Or it's Yang Fengying, who relentlessly exploits her commercial value off the field.

These people completely treated themselves like oxen and horses pulling a millstone.

Those evil capitalists!

At the same time.

Inside the top suite of the Westin Hotel in downtown Madrid.

The mess in the next room has been cleaned up.

Yang Mi was wearing an extremely large white hotel bathrobe.

The belt around her waist was loosely tied, revealing a large expanse of her fair collarbone.

She was sitting in front of a huge vanity mirror, her fingers drenched in expensive face cream, gently massaging her temples.

"Bang."

The solid wood door of the suite was pushed open directly.

The agent strode in, wearing high heels and holding a tablet computer tightly in her hand.

The agent couldn't care less about his usual seasoned and composed demeanor at this moment.

She looked at the various data indicators on the tablet, her tone filled with undisguised shock.

She took a deep breath and exclaimed to Yang Mi.

"Wow! Are sports stars really this good now?"

"This is absolutely outrageous!"

Yang Mi's fingers, which were applying face cream, suddenly froze in mid-air.

She turned her head.

A very obvious blush instantly rose on that face, which was still fair and radiant despite being completely bare-faced.

Fragments of images from last night in this room flashed uncontrollably through her mind.

Li Jing also made her wear a blue and white striped jersey.

The rest just felt that people who practice sports are really amazing.

Thinking about this...

Yang Mi didn't even think it through.

He blurted out a question in a state of extreme panic.

"How do you know it's powerful?"

"I didn't tell you, did I—"

Upon hearing this, the agent stopped in his tracks.

She stood there, stunned, staring blankly at her artist's guilty expression.

The two stared at each other for a full three seconds.

The agent realized what was happening, and the corner of his mouth twitched violently twice.

Then, she handed the tablet computer in her hand directly to the dressing table in front of Yang Mi.

"What are you thinking!"

The agent reached out and tapped on the data statistics chart on the screen.

"I'm talking about traffic! I'm talking about popularity!"

on the screen.

The two trending search terms on Weibo, displayed in purple, were clearly visible.

These are all candid photos of the two on their date at a Western restaurant last night.

The agent launched into a rapid-fire explanation.

"Since those photos of you two were released by the media last night, your search index across the entire Chinese internet has increased fivefold!"

"Just this morning."

"Three top international luxury brands, who were initially hesitant and playing hard to get due to pricing issues, have all sent extremely positive emails expressing their intention to cooperate!"

"Not only did they agree to all the conditions, but they also sent a thank-you note!"

The agent rested her hands on the dressing table, her eyes shining.

This is the terrifying commercial value that Europe's top football stars have brought to the entertainment industry!

The incredible amount of attention Li Jing is currently generating off-field is enough to make any top female star in China extremely wealthy.

They made a killing.

Yang Mi nodded.

But then a sense of crisis arose.

No, I must arrange another meeting with Li Jing in a few days to solidify my position.

Barcelona.

Inside Camp Nou stadium.

Barcelona's sporting director, Anthony Zubizarreta, was sitting in that extremely luxurious private office.

He reached out and grabbed a copy of AS, which had just been urgently published that morning, from the large mahogany desk.

The front page of the newspaper prominently featured footage of last night's away game against Osasuna.

That was Li Jing, who was half-naked from the waist up.

Covered in mud and water, with extremely horrifying purplish-red bruises on his back.

A large, high-resolution photo of a man sprinting wildly in celebration, one foot on the corner flagpole.

Suvisareta's wrinkled old face was as black as a piece of raw iron at that moment.

His heavy breathing echoed in the spacious office.

He was in a very bad mood.

A few days ago, after their shock defeat to Osasuna, the media had almost already made up their minds.

Barcelona are already out of contention for the title against Real Madrid this season.

Real Madrid has played one game less, yet they have a full ten points ahead of them.

The pressure from Barcelona's management is also mounting on Zubizarreta.

md.

Now this bastard named Li Jing has resurfaced in this way.

hateful.

Two o'clock in the afternoon.

sunny.

At Atlético Madrid's training ground, the grass smelled of freshly cut grass.

Li Jing pushed open the door to Simone's office.

The office lights were off, with only sunlight streaming in from the windows.

Simone was sitting on the carpet in a completely unseemly manner.

The area was littered with random videotapes of the games.

He heard the door open and looked up at Li Jing as he walked in.

"sit."

Simone pointed to the sofa next to him, then pulled a tactical whiteboard with wheels from the table.

The old man's eyes were bloodshot and his eye bags drooped low, clearly indicating that he had stayed up all night reviewing the video recording.

"How's the recovery going? Are there any muscle discomforts?"

Li Jing said, "I just had an ice bath, so it's not a big problem."

"Dr. Jack will be here shortly to conduct a physical examination."

"So I came here first."

Simone nodded; all he could do was try to secure better medical resources for Li.

Simone reached into the pen holder and pulled out a red pen.

Four letters were written with great force in the very center of the whiteboard.

Lazio.

"Our next match is a two-legged Europa League Round of 16 tie. We will be playing at home in the Calderon against this Italian powerhouse."

Simone threw the red pen on the table and braced his hands on either side of the tactical board.

The old man's expression was more serious than ever before, and his usual eccentricities were completely suppressed.

"Listen, Lee."

"Winning the Europa League is extremely important for our team."

"This is not just a pledge I made when I took office that I had to fulfill."

Simone tapped his fingers heavily on the edge of the whiteboard.

"More importantly, the Europa League title itself is extremely important!"

Li Jing leaned back on the sofa and listened quietly.

His hands were on his knees.

The moment he heard the words "Champions League qualification," a sharp glint flashed in his eyes.

This is exactly what he wanted.

Champions League qualification.

This is not only the highest honor hall for professional athletes.

Only by standing on the Champions League stage.

Go head-to-head and defeat Messi, who is at his peak.

Only then would he have the opportunity to complete those highly rewarding tasks.

Simone turned around.

The old man picked up the red pen and drew a huge question mark next to Lazio's name, which seemed extremely abrupt.

The sound of the pen tip cutting through the air was jarring.

"but."

"We at Atlético Madrid have achieved an incredible winning streak this month."

Simone turned his head and stared intently into Li Jing's eyes.

"But this conceals an extremely deadly hidden danger."

"Whether it's Real Sociedad or Osasuna."

"Our squad, including yourself, has not yet faced a truly top European powerhouse at its absolute peak, except for Real Madrid, whom we drew with in a friendly match."

Before Li Jing could speak...

Simone reached out and pulled open the drawer of his desk.

He pulled out a freshly printed UEFA draw pairings sheet that still smelled of ink.

The old man held the paper and slammed it onto the glass coffee table in front of Li Jing.

"Take a look at this."

"This is the most outrageous and most disheartening Europa League ever."

Li Jing's gaze shifted downwards, sweeping over the A4 sheet of paper. His brows immediately furrowed tightly.

On this Europa League knockout stage bracket, the badges of two teams that should never have appeared here are conspicuously displayed.

Simone's voice boomed down from above.

"The Champions League group stage saw a major upset that will go down in history."

"Manchester United, and Manchester City."

"These two Manchester clubs, currently dominating the Premier League, unexpectedly stumbled in the Champions League group stage and were both relegated to the Europa League!"

Simeone's finger jabbed hard into the left half of the match schedule.

The paper had a hole poked in it.

Simone touched his face.

"This is not the Europa League at all."

"This is called hell."

"Manchester United and we are in the same half of the bracket. If we can beat Lazio at home or away, we will face the Old Trafford Red Empire with Rooney and Giggs in the quarterfinals."

Simone pointed his finger toward the right half of the court.

"Meanwhile, Manchester City, the Blue Moon, are on a killing spree in that half of the bracket. If they do make it to the final, they'll be facing them."

Li Jing reached out his hand.

I picked up the match schedule from the coffee table.

The paper rubbed gently against my fingertips.

The Europa League has reached this knockout stage, which is an extremely brutal two-legged home-and-away knockout format.

One hundred and eighty minutes.

There's no room for trial and error like in a league.

There is no way to recover the points.

Even the calculation of away goals is detailed down to home and away games.

Any defensive lapse in the backcourt, or any wasted offensive play, could prematurely end the entire European season.

The fault tolerance rate is zero.

Li Jing held the paper, flicked his wrist, and tossed the match schedule back onto the table.

He slowly raised his head.