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Starting as a Defensive Midfielder at Real Madrid
Chapter 401 399: Stay, Chris · Nov 11, 2026
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Surrounded by countless cheers and praise, Li Ang didn’t immediately throw himself into the wild celebrations with his teammates.
After embracing Azpilicueta and Matić, and laughingly linking arms with Kroos and De Bruyne, he quietly made his way toward the opposite half of the field.
Morata, his eyes full of frustration and disappointment, watched Li Ang approach and instinctively felt a lump in his throat.
”Boss...” he murmured.
”I know you gave it your all, Álvaro,”
Li Ang hugged Morata, patting him gently on the shoulder, just like he used to when comforting him after defeats at Real Madrid.
”You didn’t do anything wrong today.
You had very few chances — that’s not your fault.
You’ve already given everything you had for your team.”
Hearing this,
Morata’s nose tingled,
his heart warming —
because Li Ang truly understood him.
”Victory and defeat are both part of football.
We were lucky today and won, but that doesn’t mean you’re failures,”
Li Ang continued seriously.
”Your performances this season exceeded everyone’s expectations.
You know me — I don’t hand out empty compliments.
Believe me, Álvaro, you and your team have a very bright future.”
Morata, hearing Li Ang’s sincere words, felt his gloom slowly lift.
Li Ang’s praise was never hollow —
his judgment had always been sharp and fair.
If he said Juventus had a bright future, then it was believable.
After all, Juventus had reached the Champions League final.
With better reinforcements, they would surely rise again.
Wasn’t this the exact path Real Madrid, Bayern, and Chelsea had walked before claiming European glory?
Having lived through Mourinho’s Real Madrid dynasty,
Morata knew this well.
Li Ang’s comforting words rekindled hope in the young striker.
After consoling Morata,
Li Ang went to greet Khedira.
Unlike Morata’s obvious frustration,
Khedira was far more composed.
He knew he was at the tail end of his career.
Each year he could still compete at this level was a blessing.
By comparison with 99% of professionals,
Khedira’s career had been near perfect:
a full club trophy collection,
a World Cup winner’s medal,
wealth from his stint at PSG.
Now at Juventus, even losing a Champions League final wouldn’t crush him.
The two old teammates chatted warmly for a while, laughing quietly behind cupped hands.
After that,
Li Ang had intended to seek out Pogba for a quick word.
But the young Frenchman had vanished.
When Li Ang asked, he was told Pogba had already returned to the dressing room.
”Geniuses are often like that,”
Khedira shrugged, smiling wryly.
”But the good thing is, today it was his idol who defeated him.
Give him a few days, he’ll bounce back.”
Li Ang nodded, giving up the idea of chasing Pogba down.
Ultimately, on-pitch grudges should stay on the pitch.
A true professional needed to distinguish between professional rivalry and personal relationships.
If Pogba couldn’t walk past this setback, then it only meant his mentality still needed sharpening —
it wasn’t Li Ang’s fault for playing hard.
Having comforted his defeated opponents and caught up with old friends,
Li Ang finally threw himself into Chelsea’s celebrations.
Throwing Mourinho into the air —
a standard ritual.
Champagne showers — absolutely mandatory.
After an entire season of grueling battles,
Chelsea had completed a historic double:
Premier League champions and back-to-back Champions League winners.
On a personal level, their players’ resumes sparkled even more brightly.
On a grander scale, they had once again proven the Premier League’s growing dominance over Europe.
Tonight was a time to relax, to party wildly —
and no media outlet would dare criticize them for it.
Some players, like Bertrand and Hazard, after attending the club’s official party, even openly drove straight to London’s biggest nightlife hotspots.
Mourinho had no issue.
The season was over.
As long as they stayed out of scandal, he didn’t care what they did.
Li Ang stayed for the official club celebration, then set off for China to begin his summer commercial obligations.
Mendes accompanied him, but this time it wasn’t to line up more endorsement deals.
No — this time, Mendes had a serious mission:
to discuss, frankly and thoroughly, the possibility of Li Ang returning to Real Madrid.
Had it been any other club president pushing for Li Ang,
Mendes might have advised him to stay at Chelsea.
After all,
Chelsea had money,
they had titles,
they had Mourinho,
and they adored Li Ang.
He was the undisputed king at Stamford Bridge.
Switching clubs now meant serious risks.
But because it was Florentino Pérez personally begging for Li Ang’s return, even Mendes hesitated to say no.
Florentino’s urgency had stirred even Mendes’ calm demeanor.
Thus, he traveled with Li Ang to China.
Originally, Mendes thought persuading Li Ang would be a long, arduous process.
Because at Chelsea,
Li Ang had everything:
the perfect system, the perfect teammates, the perfect boss.
One word from Li Ang, and Roman Abramovich would gladly hand him a salary raise.
But returning to Real Madrid?
First, he would have to surrender part of his image rights.
Second, he would have to fit into Florentino’s strict wage structure.
Third, and most importantly:
Cristiano Ronaldo.
Li Ang had left Madrid because of Cristiano’s immovable alpha status.
Despite their close friendship,
Li Ang had understood:
if he wanted to evolve,
he had to leave the comfort zone and seek greater challenges.
Compared to previous seasons, Cristiano Ronaldo’s individual ability had indeed declined somewhat.
But honestly, expecting Real Madrid to abandon Cristiano entirely — both his sporting value and massive commercial appeal — was unrealistic.
Florentino Pérez’s ideal transition plan was clear:
Cristiano would gradually lose his starting role due to natural decline, and Li Ang would then seamlessly inherit the mantle of Real Madrid’s flagship star.
From a pragmatic perspective, this maximized Cristiano’s remaining value —
a true businessman’s approach.
Florentino did have genuine affection for Cristiano.
Even if he sometimes privately called him an ”obsessive fool,”
he had publicly praised him as ”our beloved Chris.”
But for the future of Real Madrid,
Florentino could also be utterly ruthless.
If Li Ang accepted, he would return to Madrid, coexist with Cristiano for one or two seasons, then fully take over.
If he refused,
Florentino would immediately start the complicated process of moving Cristiano out this summer.
As Cristiano and Li Ang’s shared agent —
and as Cristiano’s longtime friend —
Mendes naturally didn’t want to see that happen.
But truthfully, if he were Li Ang, he would be seriously tempted by Florentino’s sincerity and decisiveness.
To Mendes’ surprise, though,
Li Ang didn’t hesitate long.
Just three nights of thought —
and before setting off for Shanghai for his first fan event of the summer,
Li Ang gave his answer:
”Principally, I agree to transfer back to Real Madrid.
But I have two conditions:
First, after speaking with Roman and Mourinho,
Real Madrid’s offer must meet Chelsea’s demands.
I won’t apply any pressure on Chelsea.
Second, if the president wants me back, he must first complete Cristiano’s contract renewal.
I need Chris.
I won’t allow our relationship to fracture.
We can still be Real Madrid’s best attacking partnership.”
Mendes was overjoyed!
The first condition was reasonable —
Li Ang was always loyal, and Mendes would never advise him to force his way out.
The second condition?
Maybe not so realistic —
but exactly what Mendes had hoped for!
With Li Ang’s green light,
Mendes rushed back to Spain the next day.
Meanwhile, Li Ang plunged into a series of massive summer fan events across China.
Six cities, from coastal giants to inland metropolises, all buzzed with tourism booms fueled by Li Ang’s appearances.
Tens of thousands packed into signing events, causing even global media to take notice.
It was exhausting work —
but Li Ang was genuinely happy.
Unless forced to end early by event organizers, he patiently signed and took photos with every fan he could.
If his arms cramped, he simply switched to posing for more photos instead of signing.
To him, it was a small effort.
But to those fans —
who had crossed provinces and spent hours on trains or planes just to see him —
every smile, every signature was priceless.
Was it ”worth it”?
Li Ang thought not.
It wasn’t worth their hardship.
But he understood:
to the fans, his response brought strength and joy.
So he gave them everything he could.
It was mutual respect —
a sacred duty.
As Cristiano had once told him during a commercial event:
”As players, we may not have much formal education.
But we must learn gratitude.
Without the fans, we — the so-called ’superstars’ — would be nothing.”
Those words remained etched in Li Ang’s heart.
It took almost a full month to complete the six-city tour.
Once it was done,
Li Ang planned to return to London —
to meet with Roman Abramovich and Mourinho face-to-face.
Convincing them to let him leave Chelsea would not be easy.
But Li Ang was not someone who shied away from difficult conversations.
He would try, whatever the result.
Yet just before his flight back to England,
Mendes encountered new complications —
forcing Li Ang to make a crucial phone call.
”Have you really decided to leave Madrid, Chris?”
Li Ang asked directly after dialing Cristiano.
Cristiano’s determination had caught even Mendes off guard.
Now Mendes needed Li Ang’s help to persuade him.
After a moment’s silence on the other end,
Cristiano finally spoke with renewed resolve.
”Yes, Little Lion.
But it has nothing to do with you.
If possible, I would love to play alongside you again.
But you know... I’ve told you before:
I don’t feel respected by the president or the board!
I’m not greedy for money —
but they all think I’m obsessed with it.
All I ever wanted was to prove I’m not inferior to Messi —
but they never understood me!”
As Cristiano’s emotions rose,
Li Ang patiently soothed him.
Handling an upset ”orange cat” like Chris required gentle coaxing.
After calming him down,
Li Ang dropped his ace:
”Chris,
I’m not even earning €25 million a year right now.
And I don’t plan to ask for a raise.
Sometimes...
beating our rivals isn’t about making more money than them.
Look at me —
my salary is lower than Messi’s.
Does that mean I’m inferior to him?”
”Of course not!
You’re about to win your second Ballon d’Or!
You, me, and Messi — we’re all at the same level!”
Hearing Cristiano’s proud, slightly sulky response,
Li Ang smiled.
Then he delivered the final push:
”So stay, Chris.
If you leave, my reason for returning to Madrid will lose half its meaning.
I need you.
Madrid’s fans need you.
If you’re looking for a reason to stay, could it be... me?”
There was a long silence.
Li Ang waited patiently, phone in hand.
Finally, he heard a faint, reluctant ”Mmm” from the other end.
Li Ang grinned.
They still had unfinished business.
And together, they would create new miracles.
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