Chapter 16: At Eighteen That Year, Did I Stand There Like a Nobody?
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In the players’ representatives’ section, seated to Li Luo’s left was a strong little black egg of a man.
He carefully studied the other man’s features, as well as the Everton crest on his suit. He looked just like someone from a shooting tutorial video...
“Lukaku? Hello.”
“Hm?”
Lukaku turned his dark, broad forehead toward him and smiled, revealing a row of dazzling white teeth.
“Hello... Li from Wolfsburg?”
The two had a general understanding of each other’s stories.
Everton were a Premier League club, and through the Manchester United mouthpiece newspapers, they had seen more or less of the reports about Li Luo.
“Never thought we’d meet in the group stage...”
“How many spectators can Everton’s home ground hold?” Li Luo asked curiously.
It was an important question. The maximum number of shock points he could obtain in each match depended on the stadium’s seating capacity.
The little black egg looked rather bewildered.
“Why are you asking that? Everton’s home ground can hold roughly thirty-nine thousand spectators when it’s full. I don’t know the exact figure either.”
“If we go to Italy and challenge Inter Milan, there might be seventy or eighty thousand people in the stands.”
Li Luo nodded.
“Excellent. Thank you.”
Excellent?
The young Lukaku could not help feeling puzzled. Then he suddenly remembered the protagonist of a certain cartoon, whose strength increased with the number of spectators watching.
Li Luo silently made a note of what he had to do after returning home that evening: hold his textbooks while watching footage of Wolfsburg’s next Bundesliga opponent, study recent footage of the three teams in his group, and train seriously, continuing to experience the improvement brought by his sixty points of shooting ability.
Study hard. Keep growing stronger.
...
The Europa League group-stage draw ceremony came to an end.
Everyone gradually filed out of the small auditorium.
“The Europa League ceremony is fairly simple. The Champions League draw is much larger in scale and far more grand. I played in the Champions League when I was sixteen. Have you heard of that?”
“Forget it. Let’s hurry and leave. I’ll feel uncomfortable if we run into representatives from any of those Champions League giants.”
There was a trace of awkwardness in the little black egg’s voice.
Li Luo asked curiously, “Why?”
Lukaku shook his head.
“I don’t know how to put it. I can’t explain it.”
Assistant Tom came looking for them and led the two men from the side hall of the small auditorium into a corridor.
At the far end, lights kept flashing in the main hall.
Two lines of hostesses stood beside the entrance.
The opening of Beethoven’s “Fate” Symphony drifted in and out of earshot.
...
They saw a beautiful girl holding a draw container surrounded by crystal decorations.
Li Luo remembered that the Europa League draw had used an ordinary metal box.
Then a wave of cheering surged from the main hall.
He thought of the sparse applause during the Europa League ceremony.
Tom could not help laughing.
“The Champions League ceremony has a much better sound system.”
...
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Tap, tap, tap.
Dress shoes struck the carpet in a rapid rhythm.
Li Luo and Lukaku turned their heads and saw reporters surrounding a group of player representatives wearing suits emblazoned with the Barcelona crest.
“Move aside!”
“Make way!”
“You there, sweeping the floor—don’t block the way! Can’t you see the Barcelona delegation is coming through?”
The voices carried a Catalan accent.
Several staff members shouted orders, Barcelona crests displayed on their uniforms.
Flashes burst without pause as every reporter scrambled to point their cameras at the dazzling constellation of red and blue stars.
....
Lukaku quietly took two steps back. His broad back nearly touched the wall.
His emotions were complicated.
At nineteen, as a fringe player at Chelsea, he had not even dared to touch the Champions League trophy.
He had contributed nothing to its victory.
Now, standing beneath the dazzling lights, he felt as though even his own shadow was unwilling to overlap with the shadows of the representatives from the great clubs.
Tom, meanwhile, was like a young wolf cub, afraid to meet the gaze of the adult pack.
A certain scene flashed through his mind: in one Champions League final, even the proud Sir Alex Ferguson had been beaten by Barcelona until both his fists trembled...
His hands clenched in secret.
“One day, I’ll become part of the management at a giant club too.”
....
Li Luo, however, looked directly at the faces of the Barcelona delegation.
After watching match footage for some time, he had gained a rough understanding of the hierarchy of European football.
In the comments beneath the videos, he had seen plenty of “hilarious” pictures—references to martial arts teams and film academies.
Were clubs like Barcelona and Real Madrid equivalent to boss-level monsters in a video game?
Suddenly—
A tall, lean figure from the Barcelona delegation stopped in front of Li Luo and looked him up and down.
Sergio Busquets.
The “Busquets” in the famed Xavi-Iniesta-Busquets midfield trio.
His voice was full of praise.
“Li, I happened to come across some footage of one of your matches online.”
“You have excellent vision and think very quickly. Judging from your style... well, keep working hard. Perhaps you’ll have the chance to join Barcelona next year.”
Everyone burst out laughing.
The reporters reached for their pens, preparing to record the Barcelona star’s encouragement to a young player.
Under normal circumstances, a young man who received such praise would be overwhelmed with excitement, his face flushed red.
“I won’t join Barcelona.”
Li Luo said it as though it were perfectly obvious. He had agreed with Manchester United that he would return once his loan spell ended. How could he join another club?
The atmosphere froze.
Busquets’ smile stiffened.
Everyone exchanged glances.
How could this kid have such poor social awareness? Couldn’t he tell that Busquets was encouraging him? Becoming the rotation substitute for the Xavi-Iniesta-Busquets trio was already the highest praise a young player could receive.
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How many players dreamed of joining Barcelona?
Some would even pay their own way to get there.
Busquets pressed him further.
“You support Real Madrid?”
Li Luo shook his head.
“No.”
“Then are you an Espanyol fan?”
“No.”
The Barcelona midfielder shook his head helplessly, still unwilling to give up and preparing to ask another question.
Someone intervened.
“Come on, stop asking. Let’s get to the main hall.”
...
The crowd dispersed.
The little black egg exclaimed, “Li, as far as I know, many gifted midfielders dream of becoming the successors to Xavi, Iniesta, and Busquets. Have you forgotten how many honors they won?”
Tom covered his face with both hands, then spread his fingers apart and peered through them with one eye.
Lukaku: “...”
“I was only joking.”
Li Luo spoke earnestly.
“Next year, when I return to Manchester United, if I get the chance to play in the Champions League, I hope we’ll meet opponents like Barcelona.”
How many shock points would he gain by defeating those European giants—the final bosses of the football world?
Perhaps he could even redeem a higher-tier mystery footballer box.
Lukaku thought for a moment.
“Li, I want to learn that confidence from you. The moment you mention fighting a giant club, your eyes light up with excitement.”
...
They had barely taken a few steps when they encountered the Juventus delegation in the corridor.
Italy’s goalkeeping legend, Gianluigi Buffon, enthusiastically extended a hand toward the three of them, his face wreathed in smiles.
“What a wonderful evening!”
“Where are you young men headed?”
“Are you hungry? Turn right at the corner, go all the way to the end, then turn left and keep walking... turn again... until you reach a hall with an open-air balcony. There’s a buffet there.”
Clap, clap, clap.
A few simple high-fives, without any unnecessary pleasantries.
A moment later, they watched the Juventus delegation disappear into the distance.
Lukaku asked in confusion, “Li, did you already know Buffon?”
Li Luo shook his head.
“That was our first meeting.”
Tom spread his hands.
“I’m even less likely to know him.”
“How does Buffon know this place so well? His directions to the buffet... just listening to them made my head spin.”
“Maybe he’s attended a lot of Champions League draw ceremonies.”