Starting as a Defensive Midfielder at Real Madrid

Chapter 40: The Superstitious Kid

Li Ang's perfectly timed defensive interception earned him cheers from Milan fans and the early trust of his new teammates.

But at the same time, he'd attracted the ire of a certain bald-headed midfield warrior—Radja Nainggolan.

"Damn it, looks can really deceive—this kid goes in hard!"

Nainggolan shot a venomous glare at Li Ang, who was already jogging back into midfield after snuffing out a promising counterattack. Still fuming from being so easily bodied off the ball, he gritted his teeth and got back into position.

Meanwhile, Milan pushed forward through Zambrotta down the right flank, quickly entering Cagliari's half. But seeing Pato tightly marked ahead, Zambrotta played it safe and passed the ball back.

Gattuso received the ball and knocked it forward to today's attacking midfielder, Seedorf. Li Ang, as always, was hustling—arriving on Seedorf's left side to offer support.

"Clarence!"

Li Ang shouted a reminder, but Seedorf had already seen him and released the pass half a beat early—just before the call came.

"Veterans, huh..."

"They always see it before you say it."

Li Ang smiled to himself and stepped forward to collect the ball, planning to turn and scan for a switch to the wing.

But just as he was about to make his next move—

A shiny dome barged into his peripheral vision.

"Crap, the bald guy!"

Nainggolan, burning with unfinished business, came charging in like a freight train.

Li Ang spat out a quick curse in Chinese and instinctively spun around, shielding the ball with a wide stance and tight core.

Nainggolan, unable to stop his momentum, slammed straight into Li Ang, drawing a whistle for a foul and a free kick for Milan just outside the box.

Both players hit the turf.

Nainggolan climbed up first, scowling and preparing to argue—after all, Li Ang had gone in hard earlier and stayed upright. Why'd he drop so easily now?

But after mumbling a few protests, Nainggolan gave up.

Truth was, it was a foul. Whether Li Ang fell or not didn't change that.

Still, Li Ang's clever use of body position had turned a risky challenge into an obvious infraction, giving Milan a valuable set piece.

"Sneaky little punk…"

Nainggolan shook his head in frustration.

To his surprise, Li Ang—walking past him—fired back in perfect Italian:

"Reckless baldy."

Nainggolan froze.

"Wait... you speak Italian?"

"Well, you never asked."

Li Ang waved a hand and jogged upfield alongside Ibrahimović to position himself for the free kick.

Among today's Milan starters, only Thiago Silva and Bonera had better aerial ability than Li Ang.

As for Ibra?

Let's just say his heading game hadn't been fully unlocked yet.

"Little Lion," Ibra whispered, wrapping an arm around Li Ang's shoulder.

"I'll screen the defender. If the ball comes to the near post, go win it."

Li Ang glanced up at Ibra's towering frame and nodded.

"Perfect. You're the ideal decoy."

Seconds later, Pirlo stepped up and delivered a gorgeous 30-meter free kick into the heart of the box.

The curling ball arced with deadly precision, and bodies clashed violently as both teams fought for position.

Ibrahimović, as promised, tied up two defenders at the near post.

And Li Ang?

He took flight.

With superb timing, explosive lift, and excellent heading technique, he flicked the ball backward—a classic redirection that sent the ball spinning toward the far post.

Then—

A blur of speed.

A single figure burst past the static defenders and lunged forward.

Pato.

With perfect timing, he slid in, poking the ball past the outstretched arm of goalkeeper Agazzi and into the bottom corner of the net.

The net rippled.

Milan had scored.

"GOOOOOOOAAAAAALLLLL!!!!"

In the Diretta Stadio studio, legendary Milan commentator Tiziano Crudeli lost his mind.

And in Cagliari's Stadio Sant'Elia, thousands of traveling Milan fans erupted into euphoric celebration.

"PATO! At the far post!

He sneaks past the defenders and taps it home!

Li Ang with the crucial flick-on!

My God, what a leap from the kid!

It's his Milan debut—and he's already got an assist!

10 minutes in, AC Milan leads 1–0 away at Cagliari!"

The Sky Italia commentators were equally stunned.

Debut match.

Playing in an unfamiliar role.

Outstanding defensive presence.

And now, an assist.

All this from a 19-year-old loanee from Real Madrid.

By tomorrow, all of Italy would be talking about him.

On the sidelines, Allegri erupted with joy, punching the air and shouting in triumph.

"This kid's unreal!

Did he bring that 'lucky streak' from La Liga with him?!"

He wasn't a superstitious man.

But Li Ang's track record was starting to mess with his head.

Over on the pitch, Ibra ruffled Li Ang's hair, grinning like a kid.

"Don't lie to me, kid.

That really your first career assist?"

"I swear!

Almost scored a header at Betis, but missed.

At Madrid, too many aerial beasts—I never got the chance.

This one's my first official assist!"

Li Ang playfully slapped Ibra on the backside, laughing.

"Took me nearly a year to get one.

Damn—assists are hard to come by!"

After the goal, his teammates came over one by one—tousling his hair, clapping his shoulder.

"Haha! Thanks, brother!

Just like the media said—you really are our little lucky charm!"

Even Pato chimed in, pulling Li Ang into a bear hug.

And Li Ang?

Slightly annoyed, he mumbled:

"I'm not superstitious, man…"

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