Old Trafford, Manchester.
Unknowingly, it had been exactly 7 years, 2555 days, since Manchester United last reached the Champions League final.
Tens of thousands of Man United fans couldn't contain their excitement, wildly waving their arms and shouting as countless red flares were ignited in the stands.
Within mere seconds, the stadium was enveloped in thick crimson smoke.
Fireworks and salutes followed in unison.
Countless tiny sparkling lights shot rapidly into the sky, bursting into dazzling brilliance at their peak, painting the Manchester night red.
The city itself seemed to tremble under the weight of the celebration.
Suddenly, the Man United fans' gaze shifted to the South Stand, the Stretford End.
Three statues loomed faintly through the dissipating smoke outside the stadium, their silhouettes projected onto the screens.
Sir Bobby Charlton cradling a football, Denis Law pointing single-handedly toward the sky, and George Best gazing profoundly ahead.
The Holy Trinity.
Grief cannot be forgotten, but life must always go on.
They were all products of Man United's youth academy.
They brought endless glory to Man United, but also left behind an impossible standard for those who followed.
At this moment, a dream took root in the hearts of the current players—to become true professional legends and write their own stories at the Theater of Dreams.
Because of the heart-wrenching Munich air disaster, the stadium seemed to have dimmed considerably over the decades, the weight of history heavy.
Countless young boys sat before their television screens around the world, their innocent faces filled with anticipation.
David Moyes, Louis van Gaal, or Jose Mourinho? Who would be the one to restore the glory?
The frequent setbacks in recent years made them realize that the path to rebuilding wasn't as smooth as hoped, and they had even felt lost at times.
"Come on, let's go congratulate the lads."
At the far left of the scoreboard end, the spirit of Sir Matt Busby seemed to gaze across at his disciples with a smile.
"If you want to become an outstanding player, you must make football the core and entirety of your life, not just a means of making a living."
David Beckham, watching from the stands, stroked his chin and said without hesitation to his son.
"I believe in them, just as the boss believed in us back then."
If sorrow only becomes a path to despair, then the courage to move forward is lost.
As die-hard Man United fans, they already bore an indelible mark on their souls.
Zlatan Ibrahimović cradling a football, Marcus Rashford sliding in celebration, Jesse Lingard twisting his body in a dance—
And Jeremy Ling racing forward, meeting the wind that had once accompanied the legends of old.
Strict parents didn't turn off the TV; middle-aged men unconsciously recalled their own childhoods watching Eric Cantona or Cristiano Ronaldo.
Once, Sir Matt Busby gave Man United courage, leading those three men to rise from the ashes and return to the pinnacle of England and Europe.
"David, do you think we can win the Champions League?"
But now he saw things more clearly.
And that person was now right before the eyes of Man United's youngsters.
How could they achieve this goal?
They all recalled what Ling had said in an interview.
"When you use discipline to unleash all your talent, football will give you everything beyond your dreams!"
If they didn't believe that, this would no longer be Old Trafford.
Perhaps the father watching would give his child a chance, an opportunity to pursue his dreams.
....
Old Trafford seemed ignited, roaring with earth-shaking fury.
Thus, the Man United fans shifted their gaze once more.
Sir Alex Ferguson turned and walked away from the railing after saying this to the director next to him.
The three stood shoulder to shoulder, youthful and vibrant.
"Haha, even if we don't win it this year, I believe Man United will be stronger next year and rise again."
During his 27 years managing Man United, he brought the Theater of Dreams 13 Premier League titles, 2 Champions League titles, 5 FA Cups, and a total of 38 major trophies.
Dozens of children wearing Manchester United jerseys gazed intently at the United No. 7 on the pitch.
The camera panned upward.
In the VIP box, Sir Alex Ferguson's wrinkled face was filled with smiles, his hands clapping rhythmically.
Then the players embarked on the right path to unleash their talent and brilliance.
It seemed to quietly narrate the passionate stories of the past.
They raised their scarves high, roaring with fervent shouts, singing "Glory Glory Man United" while linking arms with strangers.
Who would take up the mantle?
It was hard for them not to be moved—they would follow Ling's path, using discipline to push themselves.
Simultaneously, they lowered their gaze toward the now-calm pitch.
...
By the pitch.
The Manchester United substitutes' bench was completely empty—everyone had rushed onto the pitch to revel in their celebration!
Mourinho was no exception, hugging his coaching staff.
At the other end of the stadium, unnoticed, Roma players sat on the turf, too heartbroken to speak.
No matter how much they consoled themselves before the match, hope still lingered in their hearts.
What if they could overcome Manchester United?
What if they could surpass the 1983/1984 season's runner-up finish and create a miracle that would set Rome ablaze?
But ultimately, they weren't the "chosen one."
At that moment, the streaming platforms experienced lag due to overwhelming viewer traffic.
The backend viewer count had surpassed ten million.
Peter Drury gathered his thoughts and finally announced.
"The full-time whistle blows!!"
"Manchester United advances to the Champions League final!"
"Looking back at United's Champions League journey, luck always seemed to be on their side, just like the previous draw results."
"But what I want to say is..."
"Luck is like a rainbow always hanging in the sky—you can only see it when you look up, and you can only bask in its glow if you keep moving forward."
Jim Beglin added, "Of course, failure doesn't mean losing everything for Roma."
"Every major tournament, every league season, is like a day in life. When the day ends, there will always be those who are happy and those who are sad."
"But regardless, whether you're happy or sad, tomorrow will always come."
"Let's congratulate Manchester United and wish Roma the best!"
Beglin watched the young man's radiant smile on screen and said with satisfaction.
"This is a historic moment. I hope he can bring home the championship like his predecessors did."
"I once said that good players aren't trained—they're selected. Ling was selected by destiny."
"I still believe this statement holds true, but I think many people never reach the limits of their potential. Ling is reaching his."
"Finally, I hope Ling maintains strong desire for every match and continues his dedication and focus."
"..."
...
Meanwhile.
Madrid, Spain.
"Aren't you going to rest? We have to face Liverpool in the final—they won't be easy to deal with."
Luka Modrić asked with a smile.
Cristiano Ronaldo shook his head, wiping sweat from his brow.
"By the way, have you got the Manchester United vs Roma result?"
"Just came through. United 1-0 Roma. Aggregate 3-1. I watched the highlights—nothing particularly spectacular, just efficient."
Modrić pulled out his phone and opened the app.
Ronaldo briefly scanned the list and spotted a familiar name, his eyebrows suddenly lifting in surprise.
That Man United No.7 scored again?
To be honest, he had initially doubted whether Jeremy Ling was worthy of wearing the No.7 jersey, especially since he was so young and had just emerged from the youth academy.
But after witnessing Ling's performances from afar, even he was utterly astonished.
Over 30 goals in a single season.
He remembered his own first season at Man United—4 goals, 4 assists, 4 yellow cards.
Ronaldo shook his head vigorously, dispelling the distracting thoughts, and focused on the ball.
He took his run-up and swung his right leg.
BOOM!
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