Soccer: I’m Building a Giant in the Premier League

Chapter 19 – The Next Alan Shearer

"I'm really sorry about this, Yang."

Chris Hunter had barely entered Yang Cheng's office before apologizing, a guilty look on his face.

Yang Cheng had already guessed the purpose of his visit.

But the apology caught him off guard.

It showed that Chris Hunter himself didn't agree with the company's decision.

"Chris, you've seen what we've built these past few months," Yang Cheng said firmly. "We're top of the League Two table, leading by seven points."

He stared straight at Hunter, his voice calm but full of conviction.

"I'm confident—no, I guarantee—we'll earn promotion to the Championship this season."

"You don't need to worry about our ability to repay the loan."

Hunter nodded, visibly ashamed.

He had been there from the start. He wasn't part of Elvino's restructuring division, but this was his client.

He'd watched firsthand as Yang Cheng pulled a club on the brink of collapse into the top of the table.

Now, the company's decision threatened to derail it all.

No stadium. No training ground. If things weren't handled properly, the FA could even suspend Bayswater from competition.

"Yang, I have to be honest. The company has made its decision."

Hunter took a deep breath and steadied himself. He was here as the messenger.

"Chelsea, through Cash Harris, contacted us. They're offering £15 million to buy the land."

"Fifteen million?" Yang Cheng's eyes narrowed. A cold smile crept onto his lips.

"A few months ago, their offer was five."

Hunter pretended not to notice the sarcasm.

"Yang, take the offer. This amount of money—it would be a great move for you."

Yang fell silent.

Elvino only cared about profit.

A £15 million deal meant a £3 million payout from their 20% clause.

And who knew how much Chelsea would pay them under the table for pushing the deal through?

For a small asset management firm like Elvino, it was a massive payday.

For Bayswater?

£12 million in hand could solve a lot of problems.

They could rent stadiums and training facilities. In England, there was no shortage of pitches—some lower-league teams even trained in public parks.

"Yang, I'm in the restructuring business. I looked into it for you—after selling the land, you could buy a much larger plot in the suburbs."

"I've got files on bankrupt or near-bankrupt clubs—football, rugby, even golf clubs. Their land is dirt cheap. You could easily convert it into a training ground."

"As for a stadium—rent it. QPR, West Ham, Reading, Watford, Brentford... their grounds are all better than yours and not that expensive."

Yang Cheng had to admit—Hunter wasn't wrong.

This was exactly the strategy Yang Jianguo and Lin Zhongqiu had originally planned.

Sell the land. Free up cash. Revitalize the club.

With that money, they could build a proper squad and maybe even push for Premier League promotion in a year or two.

If they made it up, buying a new stadium would become an option.

But Yang Cheng… couldn't accept it.

"What if I say no?" he asked coldly.

Hunter looked surprised. His brow furrowed as he prepared to argue further.

But Yang raised a hand, stopping him. "Just answer me—what happens if I refuse?"

"Yang… we have a contract. And Chelsea's offer is very generous—"

"If you consider me a friend, don't push this."

Hunter stared at him, baffled.

Why refuse?

From a business perspective, this was the way out.

But the man in front of him was stubborn to the core.

"If you reject the deal," Hunter said, "the company… will demand early repayment of the £2 million loan—plus accrued interest."

"What? The contract clearly states a two-year term—"

"There's a clause," Hunter admitted. "If the company faces financial difficulty, we're entitled to call the loan early. You can skip the future interest payments, but…"

Yang Cheng stared at him, silent.

If he hadn't already asked Lin Zhongqiu to have the contract reviewed, this would've been a sucker punch.

But he was prepared.

"Your boss really knows how to play the game," Yang sneered.

Hunter sighed. "The Chelsea offer is just… too good."

And that was the truth.

If Chelsea hadn't offered so much, Elvino would never have risked blowing everything up.

Yang was furious—but didn't explode.

After all, this was business.

"Yang, I know what you're thinking. You could sell a player and cover the repayment. But are you willing to lose a key player—and risk blowing promotion to the Championship?"

Hunter had a point.

From any angle, getting promoted should be the club's top priority.

That was the best long-term move.

Losing a star to save the land? Might cost them everything.

Even Lin Zhongqiu was visibly nervous.

…

Yang Cheng didn't respond right away.

He told Hunter he needed time to think.

After sending him off, he called in Lin Zhongqiu and Brian Kidd.

"I've made up my mind," Yang said firmly. "We're not doing what Elvino wants."

Both men were stunned.

Lin had always been the cautious one. Kidd, on the other hand, was just shocked by Yang's resolve.

Refusing a creditor's demands meant he'd need cash, fast.

"You plan to sell a player?" Kidd asked.

Yang didn't reply, but his expression made it clear.

"Will it hurt our promotion chances?" Lin was worried.

They'd been trying to reach League One for years. This was their best chance yet.

"I don't want this to ruin everything."

"Actually," Lin added, "even if we do get promoted, our current stadium doesn't meet League One's requirements."

Yang looked surprised. "Why not?"

Kidd immediately understood.

"League One has TV broadcasts. Your stadium doesn't support that."

Which meant—either major renovations, or renting a new ground.

Yang sighed.

Another mess his father had left behind.

But for him, it wasn't a dealbreaker.

"From a tactical standpoint, Brian—who's truly irreplaceable right now?"

"Ribéry and Rowlands," Kidd answered without hesitation.

Yang nodded.

Those two were either too critical to the system or simply had no backup.

Rowlands had no replacement. Modrić was still too raw.

Ribéry's left-side dribbling was irreplaceable.

"Mick McCarthy came to scout Stead," Kidd said with a laugh. "But after one game, he asked me about Ribéry."

Lin looked stunned. Yang just smiled.

League Two had no TV coverage, barely any media.

Only those in the stadium saw what happened.

And data? Practically nonexistent.

So unless someone scouted in person, they wouldn't know how good Ribéry really was.

Modrić, meanwhile, was still too inconsistent.

"So you're saying our top scorer is the easiest to replace?" Lin asked, confused. "Who do we have that can step in for Stead? Lambert? Hasn't he been struggling?"

Yang smiled without answering.

Kidd took over.

"Lambert can't fully replace him yet—but he's usable. I think Yang has already found someone who can take over."

Stead's only job was to score.

Even from a striker's perspective, his jumping ability was mediocre—which is why Yang had him on a jumping program.

Finding a replacement wouldn't be easy.

But Yang had a name in mind.

Someone he'd spotted not long ago.

Playing for Cambridge United in League Three.

Snagging him from a lower league team wouldn't be hard—or expensive.

"Brian, I'll handle the striker. I need you to start pushing something in the media."

"Let potential buyers know the England U21 striker is about to hit the market."

In terms of media connections, Kidd had far more pull than Yang.

"Got it. Especially…"

"Sunderland aside—Alan Shearer is already 33."

Kidd nodded. "Bobby Robson and Newcastle have been hunting for his replacement for a while now."

"Blackburn just sold Duff to Chelsea, and David Dunn too. They made over £30 million—but haven't spent much. Their strikers, Andy Cole and Dwight Yorke, are both 32 and clearly in decline."

Kidd laughed. "Souness would definitely be interested in a young English striker."

A few clubs came to mind. Yang was confident.

Now, his job was to create the perfect environment for Stead to score.

Because if there was one thing he could count on—it was the English media's talent for overhyping.

Forget being "the next Rooney."

But labeling Stead as "the next Alan Shearer"?

Now that was something Yang Cheng could sell.

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