Chapter 345: Here We F*ing Come, Six-Trophy Champions!**
"Even though Liverpool got nearly £100 million from Chelsea, I still feel like they got the short end of the deal."
"You can't say for sure who got the better of it. Suárez might not have been in this kind of form if he'd stayed at Liverpool. Staying would've held him back."
"The more I see of Li Ang, the more I admire him. In all my years of covering football, I've never seen a team's centerpiece so willing to give up shooting rights. No wonder everyone who's played with him speaks so highly of him."
"Not just his teammates—half his former rivals would give anything to play alongside him. He's Li Ang, after all."
On the sidelines at Stamford Bridge, a cluster of English media journalists huddled, whispering and trading rapid notes with familiar colleagues.
There was no need to spend too much time writing up the game recap anymore.
By the 70th minute, the score was already 4–0.
"Chelsea completely crushed Swansea!"
That one line would be more than enough to summarize this Premier League opener for tomorrow's headlines.
The bigger story now was Suárez's explosive debut, and Li Ang's selfless willingness to hand over scoring chances.
Unfortunately for them, Mourinho cut the narrative short.
In the 70th minute, he subbed off both Li Ang and Suárez, replacing them with Salah and Llorente.
With the new adjustments, Chelsea's front three now consisted of Hazard, Llorente, and Salah.
De Bruyne, who had been playing right wing, dropped into midfield alongside Kroos.
Considering Chelsea had a UEFA Super Cup clash with Sevilla just around the corner, followed by the second round of the Premier League,
Mourinho's decision to preserve his key players' fitness and slow the tempo was entirely sensible.
But the players on the pitch—full of energy after two months without a competitive match—were still hungry for more.
Even with Li Ang off the pitch, De Bruyne took full control of the playmaking role.
Llorente wasn't on Suárez's level when it came to finishing, but his ability to serve as a physical target in the box was even better.
With De Bruyne threading dangerous passes and Llorente drawing defenders, Hazard and Salah had plenty of room to operate.
In the 78th minute, Hazard latched onto a flick-on from Llorente and broke free into the box.
But instead of going for glory, he squared the ball unselfishly.
Salah rolled the ball into an open net for his first goal of the season.
Six minutes later, Swansea finally got their moment.
Pushing forward on the wing, André Ayew beat his man and sent in a perfect cutback.
Second-half substitute Montero arrived in stride and fired a low shot into the far corner.
Oblak could only watch it go in.
It wasn't his fault. Silva had been slow getting back after pressing up to midfield,
and both Azpilicueta and Trippier were playing so high up they might as well have been wingers.
Maguire was the only center-back left scrambling—and he couldn't cover everything alone.
The clean sheet bonus was gone, and Oblak looked frustrated.
But the wake-up call brought Chelsea back to earth.
For the final ten minutes, the defense locked back in and preserved the 5–1 victory.
Mourinho said nothing. He was satisfied.
A dominant opening match? That was more than enough.
Any criticism or "lessons" could wait until training.
Post-match, Trippier and Suárez were swarmed by reporters, both of them having delivered outstanding performances.
Oblak, despite a solid game, was mostly ignored.
Still, Chelsea fans were pleased with their new keeper.
Solid, unfazed, great on the line.
The goal wasn't his fault—and at only 22 years old, he had a long future ahead.
Unsurprisingly, Suárez was named Man of the Match.
But when accepting his award, he showed no arrogance.
He simply thanked Li Ang, again and again, for helping him settle in so quickly.
Meanwhile, Li Ang had already showered and slipped out of the stadium quietly.
His girlfriend, Anna, had flown in from her hometown earlier that afternoon after visiting her parents.
She was now waiting at his London villa.
It had been months since they'd seen each other.
There was no way Li Ang was sticking around for interviews.
He casually mentioned it to assistant coach Holland and left early to head home.
He and Anna had been together for a while now.
But between his career in Europe and her university life back in China, they spent most of their time apart.
That distance meant they'd never hit the usual "relationship fatigue" phase.
Every time they saw each other, it still felt like the honeymoon period.
Mourinho gave the squad a full day off after the win.
And for once, Li Ang didn't use it for extra training.
That alone drew attention.
When paparazzi from The Sun got wind of the situation, they launched into action.
Soon, photos of Li Ang and a disguised Anna grocery shopping near his villa were circulating online.
It shouldn't have been a big deal.
But Li Ang was red-hot in the football world, and his private life was remarkably clean.
Fans were naturally curious about the mysterious girlfriend who had stayed out of the spotlight.
He had never revealed her identity.
Aside from her being young and beautiful, the public knew nothing.
The next day, when reporters swarmed him outside the training ground, Li Ang simply smiled and said:
"No comment."
Anna was happy with her life—both her studies and her relationship.
She had no desire to be dragged into the spotlight, not yet.
One day, when she was ready, Li Ang would bring her into the public eye.
But not now.
Not yet.
These days, both of them were busy with their own lives. They'd talk on the phone, and whenever they found time, they'd spend a couple of weeks together. To Li Ang, that arrangement was perfectly fine.
Living with Anna for the past few days had left him in an incredibly good mood. Even when his teammates teased him at the club, he laughed along, completely unfazed.
On August 11, Li Ang temporarily parted ways with his girlfriend and traveled with the team to Tbilisi, Georgia.
Chelsea was about to face Sevilla at the Dinamo Arena in the UEFA Super Cup.
Because the Premier League started earlier, Chelsea had already played their first league match, slotting this Super Cup fixture into their busy early-season schedule.
By contrast, Sevilla hadn't even completed their preseason.
After this match, they still had a friendly to play before starting La Liga on August 22.
So it was obvious—Chelsea was in far better form.
No matter how many friendlies you play, they can't match the value of real competitive matches.
And Chelsea had already played two: one in the league, and another against Manchester City in the Community Shield.
By every measure, they were more battle-ready than Sevilla.
At the pre-match press conference, Mourinho didn't mince words:
Chelsea came to Georgia to win their sixth trophy of the year.
The comment ruffled some feathers among Sevilla fans.
But within Chelsea's camp, it was a major morale boost.
Veterans and new signings alike were raring to go—determined to make history as the first English club to win six trophies in a single year.
On the evening of August 12, after the warmups were complete, Chelsea and Sevilla players lined up in the tunnel.
The previous season had seen Chelsea conquer all of Europe, already collecting five trophies in 2015.
With only the UEFA Super Cup and Club World Cup remaining, one more title would surpass Liverpool's famous five-trophy season—and crown Chelsea as England's only six-trophy club.
So this match attracted fans from all over the globe.
Sevilla, whether they wanted it or not, now carried the burden of trying to stop the rise of a new European superpower.
And with that came pressure they hadn't anticipated.
Neither Sevilla's coaching staff nor their core players had any desire to go all out in a death match against Chelsea.
But Chelsea?
They were here to crush.
From the first whistle, Chelsea came at Sevilla with full throttle pressing.
In a one-off final like this, tactical nuance was less important than pure aggression.
No time to feel each other out—just go all-in and swing.
Within three minutes, Li Ang latched onto a return pass from Suárez just outside the box and unleashed a long-range shot.
It missed the mark, but it showed one thing clearly: Chelsea wasn't here to mess around.
They dominated possession from the outset, hammering Sevilla's back line with relentless pressure.
Compared to when Li Ang left La Liga, this Sevilla side had improved.
Last season, they finished just two points behind Valencia and nearly qualified for the Champions League.
They were now a top-six La Liga team, capable of hurting even the strongest opponents.
Defensively, they weren't enough to scare Chelsea. But in attack, they were dangerous.
After weathering the early storm, Sevilla began fighting back.
Their counterattacks were sharp, forcing Chelsea to stay alert.
Fortunately, Mourinho had unified the tactical mindset before kickoff.
Without that clarity, Chelsea's players might have instinctively eased off the gas in the face of Sevilla's counters.
But Li Ang remembered his instructions—and he kept urging his teammates to press forward.
In the 16th minute, Matić took a risk and went in hard from behind, sliding cleanly to stop a surging Reyes.
Two quick passes later, Kroos found Li Ang in midfield.
Previously, Li Ang had frequently combined with Hazard, so Sevilla's defenders began overcommitting to block that channel.
This time, he faked a left-side move toward Hazard.
The moment Sevilla's defense shifted, he turned and threaded a quick ball through the right half-space.
Trippier, starting again tonight, charged forward with perfect timing.
Earlier, De Bruyne had drifted inward, pulling Sevilla's full-back Trémoulinas out of position.
With the lane wide open, Trippier burst into the final third.
His cross found Suárez at the back post.
But Rami, Sevilla's French center-back, marked him tightly.
Suárez couldn't shoot, so he headed the ball back across the box.
Li Ang, having made his forward run after the initial pass, wasn't in position to finish.
But Kroos was.
And after quickly surveying the scene, Kroos skipped the shot and chipped the ball toward the penalty spot.
Li Ang had already adjusted his run, beating Krychowiak to the ball.
"Kroos with the switch! Li Ang with the diving header!"
Commentators around the world were shouting the same words in unison.
Li Ang connected cleanly, and the ball rocketed into the net like a missile.
Beto couldn't react in time.
The shot was too close, too powerful.
He dove, but all he caught was air.
When the ball struck the net, Li Ang thumped his chest and ran toward the sideline camera.
Under the bright lights of the stadium, he roared with confidence—like he'd seen this moment in a dream.
"Six-trophy champions—WE'RE F*ING COMING!"**
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