June 7th. Zhou Shuizi International Airport, Bin City.
"Where are you headed, young man?"
The taxi driver glanced back at the young man in the back seat, whose face was mostly hidden behind sunglasses.
He felt there was something familiar about him but couldn't quite place it.
So he just assumed he must have driven him before.
"Sunshine Garden... oh, no, Guofeng Shimao."
Ling had just given the name of the neighborhood but suddenly corrected himself.
It hadn't even been a year, yet they had already moved out of that shabby tube-shaped apartment building.
Life had changed beyond recognition.
Thinking about it now, it really was quite unbelievable.
The blue taxi drove along the wide road, and as the frequency of tall buildings increased, Ling felt a rare sense of apprehension about returning home.
In his previous life, he had also returned to China like this, but it was with his tail between his legs.
And now?
Not only had he won both the league and the Champions League, but he had also claimed the Premier League Golden Boot award, along with two other honors.
It could be said he was at the peak of his glory.
Since yesterday's commercial shoot had wrapped up early, he decided to leave the UK ahead of schedule and return to China alone.
Of course, his return wasn't for leisure or relaxation.
Jorge Mendes had lined up a series of commercial activities for him, with the most important ones taking place in Yangcheng, Bincheng, and Jinling.
Man United had originally planned a tour of China, but considering the upcoming Russia World Cup and the early start of the league season this year, and since the club had received an invitation to the International Champions Cup, they decided to combine the two events.
They would face AC Milan, Inter Milan, Borussia Dortmund, and Arsenal in four different cities.
That's why Ling wanted to return to China early, to spend a few more days with his family.
"Young man, are you from Bin City?"
As everyone knows, taxi drivers have a strong desire to chat, second only to hairdressers name Tony.
Tian, a middle-aged man, was no exception—he loved chatting with passengers.
"How could you tell, sir?" Ling adjusted his sunglasses.
"You just don't look like someone to mess with, like a kid from our Bin City," Tian Qingke said casually.
Then he suddenly noticed the badge on Ling's jacket.
After a closer look, he exclaimed in surprise, "Hey, why are there four stars on your Man United jacket badge?"
"Isn't it because they've just won the Champions League for the fourth times?" Ling replied with a smile.
Tian curled his lip dismissively, thinking that this particular jacket wasn't available on the market.
As a Man United fan, he would have known if it were.
This young man must be wearing a knockoff, probably too embarrassed to admit it.
But Tian quickly continued chatting.
After all, for ordinary folks, an authentic jersey could cost hundreds or even thousands.
Not everyone could afford to support the team that way, and wearing a knockoff was completely understandable.
Back when Dalian Shide played, the stalls outside the stadium were full of counterfeit jerseys, but who would mock or look down on someone for that? Everyone supports their team and players in their own way—there's no hierarchy in that.
"Let me tell you, this place has a certain aura. How else could it produce so many great players? If Dong Fangzhuo hadn't been plagued by injuries, he might have been teammates with Ling by now."
"And that Champions League hat trick, in over thirty years of watching football, I've never been so excited. You have no idea what the scene was like, people were swarming together in massive crowds."
"I've still got a Man United number 7 jersey hanging in the back of my car!"
Ling played the role of the straight man, chiming in occasionally, but he felt increasingly warm inside.
After all, being firmly chosen and supported by someone is a wonderful thing.
...
Half an hour later, the taxi arrived at its destination.
Even after Ling got out and left, the vehicle remained stationary.
Tian gently held the red jersey in his hand, on which two characters were flamboyantly written.
The man murmured to himself, "Oh my god! No wonder he looked so familiar! It's the real deal!"
Ling quickly found his new home.
He set down his luggage, took a deep breath, and gently knocked on the door.
"Who is it? Husband, go get the door!" The sound of a chopping knife on a cutting board and Yan Lanxia's voice came from the kitchen.
Changzheng reluctantly put down the controller.
He had been recreating Man United's Champions League journey in FIFA's manager mode, but for some reason, he could never win the championship, often getting knocked out in the quarter-finals.
When he opened the door, his expression instantly changed.
"Oh! Why didn't you say anything?"
"The commercial shoot wrapped up early, so I came back ahead of schedule since there was nothing else to do." Ling handed over the suitcase in his hand. "Dad, your son is a football superstar now. Shouldn't you be carrying my luggage?"
Changzheng curled his lip and was about to walk away.
"Well, I'm the father of a football superstar!"
Ling laughed heartily upon hearing this. It was clear the old man was living happily, no longer as gloomy as before.
Then he said mischievously, "Dad, I've got the Golden Boot award in my suitcase. Are you sure you don't want to take a look?"
Changzheng froze at these words. "You actually stuffed something like that in your suitcase? What if it gets damaged?"
He then carefully took the suitcase and steadily wheeled it into the living room.
Hearing the commotion outside, Yan Lanxia wiped her hands on her apron and came out, complaining.
"You should've told us earlier so I could've prepared properly."
"It's fine, Mom! Everything you make is delicious!" Ling flashed a bright smile.
Yan Lanxia happily returned to the kitchen.
While she cooked, the father and son engaged in a fierce battle, with the outcome being predictably one-sided.
Ling wasn't just good at real football; he was skilled at virtual football too.
If Changzheng hadn't resorted to dirty tricks by turning off the PS4, the score would likely have reached double digits.
Then the family enjoyed a long-awaited reunion dinner, though Changzheng wasn't entirely satisfied with the food.
It was low on oil and salt, lacking much flavor.
Ling had wanted to mention this too, but considering Yan Lanxia's good intentions, he silently cleaned his plate.
Ever since he acquired the injury immunity module, his energy intake had significantly increased—simply put, his appetite had grown.
The downside was that he needed sufficient exercise to maintain a balance between intake and expenditure.
But he wanted to seriously give himself a couple days off.
So, under Ling Changzheng's disdainful gaze, Ling changed into a white tank top, loose shorts, and a pair of flip-flops after dinner.
He sprawled on the sofa like a fish, continuously clicking the controller.
------
A new football fic, what would you like the mc to be.. a goalkeeper, center back, midfielder or a coach ? or a club owner..
i got many option so please share your opinion!