["Three days later, the rain in Manchester was as fine as needle tips, stinging when it hit the face. Ye Feng dragged his suitcase and walked through the gates of the Carrington Training Ground. When the security guard checked the list, he looked at him three times. This thin teenager from the Dragon Kingdom had nothing in his hand but a temporary pass signed personally by Sir. \"Sir is over there.\" The guard pointed to the training field in the distance, his tone filled with undisguised curiosity. Ye Feng walked through the corridor, where the walls were hung with Manchester United's legends of the past: Charlton, Best, Cantona, Beckham. On the training field, the players were conducting a group scrimmage. Sir stood on the sidelines, chewing his trademark gum. Seeing Ye Feng approach, he just nodded slightly: \"Go change your clothes and get on the field.\" No welcoming ceremony. No introductions. Not even a \"Hello.\" Without the usual gift-giving routine from back home, he could go straight to training. Ye Feng changed into a red training kit and stood on the sidelines waiting for a chance to play. His fingers were trembling slightly, not because of nervousness, but because his blood was boiling. On the field, a figure was sprinting with the ball. His speed was extreme, his legs seemed to have springs, and every touch of the ball carried explosive power. His feints were flashy yet practical; he had just used a back-heel flick to get past a defender, followed by a thunderous shot that blasted into the net like a cannonball. The goalkeeper didn't even have time to react. Cristiano Ronaldo. He had just joined Manchester United from Sporting CP this year, costing Sir 12 million pounds. Although he was only 18, he had already put on the number 7 jersey left behind by Beckham. The entire Premier League was questioning this transfer; a Portuguese kid, how could he deserve it? But Ye Feng knew that the person in front of him would stand at the pinnacle of world football for the next twenty years. During the rotation, Ye Feng replaced a midfielder. He stood on the pitch, feeling the texture of the turf under his feet. This was completely different from the training base in the Dragon Kingdom; the turf was trimmed to perfection, and every inch exuded professionalism and expense. Cristiano Ronaldo glanced at him, his eyes filled with obvious disdain: \"New guy?\" \"Yeah.\" \"Asian?\" Cristiano Ronaldo curled his lip. \"Since when did Sir start getting interested in the Asian market?\" Ye Feng did not answer this question. He lowered his head and looked at the football at his feet. Sunlight pierced through the mist of Manchester, spilling onto the turf with a moist sheen. 【Main Quest: Break out of the Dragon Kingdom, Completed】 【Quest Reward distributing: Random Football Legend Template drawing...】 【Congratulations to the host, you have obtained the Legend Template: Ronaldinho】 【Ability Boost: Dribbling +7, Passing Vision +5, Creativity +9, Improvisation +6】 The moment the system's mechanical prompt sounded in his mind, Ye Feng felt every cell in his body being re-injected with a kind of agile energy. His touch on the football became sharper and softer, as if the ball was no longer a dead object, but an extension of his own body. Cristiano Ronaldo curled his lip again and was about to turn and leave. \"Why don't you try and see?\" Ye Feng spoke suddenly, his voice calm, yet it caused the surrounding air to freeze. Cristiano Ronaldo stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly. On his face, which still carried the innocence of youth, there was first shock, then a playful smile of someone who had been offended. \"What did you say?\" Ye Feng flicked his toe, and the football popped up from the turf, resting steadily on his instep. \"I said,\" he looked at Cristiano Ronaldo, \"you can't stop me.\" The other players on the training field stopped. Rio Ferdinand leaned against the goalpost with his arms crossed, looking like he was watching a good show. Cristiano Ronaldo threw his training vest onto the ground. \"Come on.\" There was no referee, no rules. Cristiano Ronaldo lowered his center of gravity, knees slightly bent. The thing burning in his eyes was something Ye Feng was very familiar with: hunger, the desire to prove himself. This Portuguese teenager had fought his way out of the slums of Lisbon, and what he hated most was being looked down upon. The moment Ye Feng started, his right foot drew a circle over the ball. His body swayed like a willow branch, his shoulder tilted left, but his center of gravity shifted violently to the right. Although Cristiano Ronaldo played as a winger, his defensive awareness was already first-class. He judged the direction and stretched out his leg to block. But Ye Feng's left heel suddenly knocked against the ball. The ball passed between Cristiano Ronaldo's legs—a Nutmeg! Cristiano Ronaldo's pupils constricted. Ye Feng's body had already slid past him, receiving the ball that had been nut-megged, and followed up with an Elastico to shake off Paul Scholes, who had come over to cover. The veteran Paul Scholes didn't even react before the ball swept past three centimeters from his toe. On the edge of the penalty area, Ye Feng faced the goalkeeper, Tim Howard. He dropped his shoulder sharply, making a shooting motion. Tim Howard dove to the left. But Ye Feng used the outside of his right foot to gently flick the ball, sending it in an unbelievable arc that curled past Tim Howard's fingertips and slowly drifted into the goal. The field was silent for three seconds. \"Holy shit, mate, you pull off an Elastico better than we do!\" Cristiano Ronaldo stood where he was, watching Ye Feng's back. His chest heaved, and the expression on his face changed from anger to a kind of complex scrutiny. \"What's your name?\" \"Ye Feng.\" \"Ye Feng?\" Cristiano Ronaldo repeated the name in English with a heavy Portuguese accent, then suddenly laughed. \"Hello, my name is Cristiano Ronaldo.\" Cristiano Ronaldo's approval. After training ended, Sir called Ye Feng into his office alone. The room was filled with the scent of whiskey and cigars, and the walls were covered with photos of Manchester United's squads through the ages. \"Next Saturday, against Sunderland.\" Sir's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against wood. \"Paul Scholes and Phil Neville are both injured, and Ryan Giggs is also in recovery. You are in the matchday squad.\" Ye Feng's palms began to sweat. Sir stared at him: \"Are you afraid?\" \"No, Sir.\" When he walked out of the office, Ye Feng met Gary Neville in the corridor. The Manchester United captain looked him up and down, patted his shoulder, and said only one sentence: \"Stand your ground on Saturday, kid.\" Old Trafford on Saturday was like a volcano about to erupt. The 76,000 seats were packed, a sea of red churning in the stands, and the singing gathered from all directions into a massive wave of sound. \"Glory, glory, Man United!\" Ye Feng sat on the edge of the substitute bench, hands on his knees, fingertips digging deep into his palms. He was wearing the number 24 jersey, a number with no history, no legend. In the stands, countless scarves were waving. He heard the fans' singing from afar, and the thunderous cheers when the stadium announcer read out the starting lineup. When Cristiano Ronaldo's name was read, boos were mixed into the applause. The Portuguese teenager stood in the player tunnel wearing the number 7 jersey, his chin slightly raised, his eyes filled with undisguised ambition. Sir stood on the sidelines, chewing gum, saying nothing. The match began. In the 12th minute, Sunderland took advantage of a corner kick, and striker Kevin Phillips headed the ball into the net. Old Trafford was silent for a moment. Then, an even louder roar of support erupted. But Manchester United's midfield was constantly malfunctioning. The absence of Paul Scholes was like a huge void; the passing lines became raw, and the connection between the front and back was intermittent. Cristiano Ronaldo ran back and forth in the front court, but he never got a comfortable pass. In the 35th minute, Cristiano Ronaldo finally received a pass back, blasted a shot from outside the penalty area, and the ball hit the crossbar and bounced out. He knelt on the turf and hammered the ground fiercely. First half ended, 0:1. In the locker room, Sir's voice grated against everyone's nerves like sandpaper. \"You guys are playing like a bunch of girls.\" No one dared to look up. \"Cristiano.\" Sir suddenly called his name. Cristiano Ronaldo raised his head, sweat beads still on his forehead. \"That kid from the Dragon Kingdom, what do you think?\" Cristiano Ronaldo was stunned for a moment, then grinned: \"He's flashier than me. Let this guy on.\" Sir turned his head, his gaze falling on Ye Feng in the corner. \"Kid, in the second half, you replace Fletcher.\" Ye Feng stood up, wiped his hands on his shorts; his palms were full of sweat. \"After you get on the field, look for Cristiano, understand?\" \"Understood, Sir.\" The second half began. In the 52nd minute, the fourth official held up the substitution board. Number 24, Ye Feng, replacing Fletcher. The on-site commentator was stunned for a moment: \"Manchester United has brought on an Asian player, number 24, Ye Feng from the Dragon Kingdom. This is his Premier League debut, and he has no prior professional match record...\" There were confused murmurs from the fans in the stands. A Dragon Kingdom person? When did Manchester United sign someone from the Dragon Kingdom? The moment Ye Feng stepped onto the turf, the breathing of 76,000 people, the unique scent of soil at Old Trafford, and the burning sensation of floodlights on his face all rushed towards him. His calves were trembling, not because of fear, but because the blood all over his body was burning. Cristiano Ronaldo ran over from the wing and patted the back of his head: \"Don't be nervous. Get the ball, look for me.\" \"Yeah.\" In the 61st minute. Cristiano Ronaldo dribbled forward, and two Sunderland defensive players immediately swarmed him. Just at this moment, Ye Feng started from the midfield. He didn't cut straight forward, but took an incredibly strange arc to go around to Cristiano Ronaldo's side and back, standing in a position completely ignored by the defensive players. Cristiano Ronaldo saw him. The corners of the Portuguese teenager's mouth curled up slightly. Back-heel flick. The ball passed through the gap between two defensive players, rolling precisely to Ye Feng's feet. Old Trafford let out a low gasp. The moment Ye Feng received the ball, it was as if Ronaldinho had possessed him. While trapping the ball with the inside of his foot, his body had already completed a turn, and with a light flick of his toe, the ball flew over the head of the third defensive player. Rainbow Flick! A huge scream erupted from the stands. Ye Feng strode towards the penalty area, facing the rushing goalkeeper, he didn't shoot. He gave it a light push with the outside of his right foot. Everyone thought he was going to pass to Ruud van Nistelrooy in the penalty area. But the ball passed through the gap between the goalkeeper and the defender at an unbelievable angle. Cristiano Ronaldo dashed out from the back post, pushing the ball into the empty net with his right foot! The net kicked up white foam. 1:1! Cristiano Ronaldo rushed to the corner flag, then suddenly turned around, pointing at Ye Feng, his finger tapping forcefully. Ye Feng ran over, and the two crashed heavily together at the corner flag. \"I told you, you can't stop me.\" Ye Feng said in his ear. Cristiano Ronaldo looked up and laughed: \"Ye Feng, you really are a genius!\" In the 78th minute. It was still the connection between Ye Feng and Cristiano Ronaldo. This time it was Ye Feng taking the ball in the midfield, facing three people swarming him, he used a Marseille Turn to get past two defensive players at the same time, followed by a back-heel flick, distributing the ball to Cristiano Ronaldo who was rushing up the wing. Cristiano Ronaldo crossed from the wing, Ruud van Nistelrooy headed the ball, the goalkeeper saved it. Ye Feng followed up for the rebound, and the ball hit the net. 2:1! Ye Feng stood where he was, spreading his arms. The cheers of 76,000 people surged like a tsunami, drowning him completely. He looked up at the lights of Old Trafford, and his eyes suddenly felt a bit sore. Three days ago, he was still in the Dragon Kingdom youth team, having to pay money just to get on the field. Now, he was at the Theater of Dreams, scoring his first Premier League goal. Cristiano Ronaldo was the first to rush over, jumping on his back, roaring frantically in his ear: \"Mate, we did it!\" Ruud van Nistelrooy, Rio Ferdinand, Gary Neville all crowded around, and everyone piled on top of Ye Feng. The final whistle blew. 2:1, Manchester United won the comeback. When walking out of the player tunnel, the reporters' microphones were almost poked into Ye Feng's face. \"Ye, you scored a goal and provided an assist in your Premier League debut, how are you feeling now?\" Ye Feng stopped and looked at the camera. \"Thanks to Sir.\" He only said this one sentence. In the locker room, Sir stood at the door, patting the shoulders of the players walking in one by one. When it was Ye Feng's turn, the old man's palm stayed on his shoulder for three seconds. \"Continue next game, kid.\" The next day. On the cover of the \"Manchester Evening News\", they used a photo of Ye Feng and Cristiano Ronaldo crashing together at the corner flag. The headline had only one line: 【Number 24 + Number 7, Manchester United has found a new answer】 Ye Feng sat by the window of the rented apartment, looking at the newspaper, when his phone suddenly rang. It was a text message from Cristiano Ronaldo: \"Don't be late for training. I still have a few dribbling moves I want to learn from you.\""]
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