Due to José Mourinho's notoriously strict demands on the training ground, the Manchester United players possessed excellent tactical execution, even this rotated squad.
Under the instructions to "rotate and confuse," the front four began to move with a fluid, synchronized rhythm.
It wasn't the mindless running of headless chickens, but intelligent movement based on the ball's position, coordinated with the anchor points in midfield.
Because they had practiced this specific rotation tactic many times in the lead-up to the game, they quickly found their groove.
This made it increasingly difficult for Swansea's rigid man-to-man marking system to function effectively.
After all, space on a football pitch is finite.
If the defenders kept following their designated targets into uncomfortable zones, their own formation would quickly become disorganized, pulling them out of position and leading to a structural collapse.
In the 28th minute. Manchester United's entire formation shifted aggressively to the right flank, creating a numerical overload in a small area.
Jesse Lingard, operating in the "half-space," received a sharp pass from Ander Herrera.
He combined with Scott McTominay in a quick one-two, dragging the Swansea midfield across.
Meanwhile, the movement off the ball was chaotic for the defenders.
Marcus Rashford made a curved, bursting run to the left wing, dragging a center-back wide.
McTominay, after laying the ball off, didn't stand still; he charged like a battering ram into the penalty area, pinning back Swansea's defensive line and occupying the remaining center-back.
This created a vacuum.
A pocket of space at the edge of the box.
Jeremy Ling made a sharp diagonal run into that central area, right into the eye of the storm.
In the blink of an eye, Manchester United had completed a fluid rotation of positions.
They had not only disrupted Swansea's defensive shape but had isolated their target.
Lingard looked up and decisively drilled a low, hard pass toward the center.
The ball was fizzing across the wet turf.
Ling stared at it.
Peripherally, he saw the white shirt of Ki Sung-yueng charging fiercely from his left side.
The South Korean captain had read the pass and was committed to the interception.
Time seemed to slow down.
Ling recalled the grueling early mornings, the wall drills, the headaches from absorbing the Golden Module.
Subconsciously, his brain switched gears.
He wasn't just looking at a ball; he was analyzing a geometry problem using the "First Touch" mindset of Dennis Bergkamp.
In his mind, a two-dimensional diagram seemed to overlay the pitch.
It vividly displayed the trajectory of the ball, his own vector, and Ki Sung-yueng's interception path.
The intersection point was obvious.
But the solution lay in avoiding the intersection entirely. It was a simple geometry problem, and the answer was already on the tip of his tongue.
'Don't touch it.'
In an instant! Ling shifted his body weight heavily to the right, dropping his shoulder as if preparing to trap the ball and protect it.
Ki Sung-yueng saw the body language.
He knew he absolutely couldn't let Ling make that first contact and turn.
Otherwise, Ling could use his explosive power to break through.
Every player needs a fraction of a second to adjust after receiving the ball, and that is the moment to strike.
So, Ki lunged.
He threw his body into a sharp, quick tackle, aiming for the space where the ball would be stopped.
Under the gaze of tens of thousands of fans, Ling did the unthinkable.
He didn't control the ball. He stepped over it.
He let it roll through his legs, past him to the left, while he abruptly twisted his body and spun around the confused midfielder.
The entire process was as smooth as flowing water, without the slightest hint of awkwardness.
No first touch, yet better than any first touch.
Ki Sung-yueng's pupils instantly trembled with shock.
His brain realized the mistake, but his momentum was already fully committed.
He couldn't stop. He could only follow through with his inertia, sliding helplessly past his opponent like a man chasing a ghost.
He thought to himself, 'If I were five years younger... maybe.'
Unfortunately, there are no "what ifs" in professional football.
The Liberty Stadium erupted in a collective gasp of astonishment.
Whoosh!
Before the fans could fully process that moment of creative brilliance, Ling was already gone.
He collected the ball on the other side of the spin, driving straight toward the penalty area with terrifying intent.
Before him lay Swansea's chaotic, panic-stricken defensive line.
"Don't let him get in! Close him down!" Swansea's goalkeeper, Lukasz Fabianski, shouted urgently, his voice cracking.
He knew just how much threat a player with that kind of confidence posed.
But Swansea had limited defensive players left back.
They had to divert attention to marking Rashford wide and Lingard making a late run.
And there was McTominay lurking near the penalty spot.
In the end, Alfie Mawson, the center-back, reluctantly stepped up to challenge Ling, leaving his position.
This was exactly the opportunity Ling had been waiting for.
He didn't shoot.
He flicked a pass to the now-unmarked McTominay.
McTominay, with his back to goal, played a perfect, cushioned wall pass back into Ling's path.
A classic one-two.
Ling burst past Mawson, collected the return pass, and found himself one-on-one with the goalkeeper.
He didn't blast it.
With a delicate, almost arrogant caress of his right boot, he slotted the ball into the far corner, wrong-footing the keeper.
Fabianski could only make a token, despairing dive before watching the ball nestle into the side netting.
0-1!!!
Martin Tyler: "JEREMY LING! He's sent Ki for a hot dog! And the finish... brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! That is poetry in motion from the Manchester United youngster!"
Gary Neville: "Stop it. Just stop it. That turn is disgusting. That is Dennis Bergkamp against Newcastle. He hasn't even touched it! He's used Ki's own momentum against him. The awareness to do that, at that speed, in a cup tie... that is special talent. And look at the composure to finish. Swansea have been unlocked by a piece of magic."
The Manchester United fans in the away stands immediately rose to their feet, erupting in a massive, guttural roar to celebrate this artistically beautiful goal.
Meanwhile, the Swansea fans clutched their heads in frustration, staring disbelievingly at the pitch.
How did he do that?
On the pitch, two contrasting scenes unfolded.
"That feint was so cool!"
"How did you even think of that?!"
Rashford and Lingard sprinted over, their voices filled with amazement, piling onto Ling's back.
Nearby, Scott McTominay's eyes revealed a hint of envy, but mostly pride.
He knew just how much effort Ling had put in to achieve this—the early mornings, the cold wall drills.
This wasn't luck; it was payment.
He grinned, grabbing Ling's head.
"Ling! How was my pass? Tell them about the pass!"
"Amazing!" Ling flashed two thumbs up, praising him without reservation. "Perfect weight, Scott!"
"Hey," Rashford grumbled playfully, "our off-the-ball movement was just as important, you know? I dragged the defender!"
Not far away, the Swansea players collectively sighed.
Ki Sung-yueng stood with his hands on his hips, he looks utterly bewildered.
He shook his head, unable to comprehend how an 18-year-old had seen through his intentions so completely.
However, recalling the escalating online public opinion and the "Asian Derby" narrative, a silent pressure weighed on him.
He gritted his teeth and hurried to comfort his teammates.
As a professional, he couldn't lose his fighting spirit over one moment of magic.
Soon, the referee's whistle restarted the match.
But the dynamic had shifted.
Manchester United had their lead.
Before long, the Swansea fans erupted in piercing boos as they realized what was happening.
Manchester United retreated into their own half.
The attacking flair vanished, replaced by a rigid, two-line defensive block.
They had parked the bus.
"Boring! Boring United!"
"Attack! Attack! Attack!"
Did they have no dignity left as a top club? Parking the bus against Swansea in the League Cup?
But this abuse had absolutely no effect on the United players.
They strictly adhered to Mourinho's pragmatic defensive tactics.
We have the goal. Now we kill the game.
Although United's forwards were relatively young, their defensive core—Smalling, Blind, and Lindelof—were seasoned pros.
Victor Lindelof, nicknamed "The Iceman," was beginning to show why he cost €35 million.
Apart from a slight weakness in aerial duels, his reading of the game was excellent.
With Herrera and Tuanzebe sweeping in front of him like a dual-screen, Swansea found no way through.
As Swansea's attacks were repeatedly neutralized, bouncing off the red wall, the game grew increasingly dull for the neutrals, but satisfying for the visitors.
....
In the LeSports live broadcast room, the director took the opportunity during a lull in play to replay the goal sequence in slow motion.
Zhan Jun couldn't help but marvel.
"That feint was incredibly deceptive—anyone, anyone would have thought Young Ling was going to control the ball. It defies instinct!"
Zhang Lu chimed in with a chuckle, "Hehe, he left Ki Sung-yueng trailing by two meters. That's the 'Asian Derby' settled for tonight, I think."
Chinese fans were equally thrilled, the bullet comments flying across the screen:
[Young Ling did brilliantly! That turn was art!]
[So creative! That's the Bergkamp Turn! I've seen it on YouTube!]
[Don't underestimate that simple shift in balance—it required considering the defender's intent, the ball's trajectory, and his own position all at once. High IQ play.]
[I'm more impressed by the team play! Rashford, McTominay, and Ling... they seems to have telepathy. They grew up together!]
[Whisper: They literally used to share a dorm. They know each other inside out.]
[Seriously, Mourinho's in-game adjustments are top-class. The rotation created the space, Ling provided the magic.]
[Korean fans are awfully quiet right now... where is the 'Ki is the Korean Gerrard' talk?]
...
Back on the fiercely contested pitch, the game ground on.
Swansea pushed, United repelled.
As time ticked away, the referee soon checked his watch and blew the whistle for halftime.
Half Time: Swansea 0-1 Manchester United.