On the green pitch.
As the players from both teams took their positions, the referee blew his whistle!
BEEP!!!
The formations of both teams instantly clashed.
From the start, the intensity was high—no probing or feeling each other out.
After all, they were old rivals and knew each other well.
The midfield became the battleground, with neither side willing to retreat, making physical confrontation the main theme.
The ball was transferred to Aymeric Laporte's feet.
The young Spaniard had been troubled lately.
He seemed to have developed a strange condition—every time he saw Ling, his heart would pound violently.
Imagine being dribbled past, again and again, by the same person throughout an entire season.
You'd practically become a sieve—how could your mental state be unaffected?
To exaggerate slightly, it was somewhat similar to PTSD—post-traumatic stress disorder.
Laporte didn't even wait for Ling to get close before passing the ball to Kyle Walker on the side.
'There's still at least ten meters between us. Is he really that scared?' Ling thought to himself.
He had planned to replicate his performance against Liverpool, attempting to intercept the ball in the backfield and shoot directly, but Laporte gave him no chance.
Then.
Manchester City advanced steadily down the wings, firmly controlling possession.
Even though Manchester United increased their physicality and provided timely defensive support, they couldn't complete a tackle.
After all, if Manchester City's possession play could be easily disrupted, they wouldn't have finished second in the Premier League, nor would they have broken the Premier League club goal-scoring record.
The ball traced continuous zigzag lines on the pitch.
If you connected them, you'd discover the essence of football—geometry.
A shape composed of 22 points, constantly changing at every moment.
The goal of both teams was to seize the flaws in these changes and deliver the ball into the gaps.
Unknowingly, 12 minutes had passed.
De Bruyne received the ball again.
He nudged it past Rashford and, without a clear line of sight, delivered a long pass with his right foot.
The ball carried an incredibly exaggerated curve, heading straight for Sterling, who was sprinting down the left flank.
On the sidelines, Guardiola couldn't help but clench his fist.
This was exactly the effect he wanted.
However, few in the football world can achieve this, as it places extremely high demands on the player.
Broad vision, passing accuracy, and ball control—all three are essential. Fortunately, he has a prodigy under his command—De Bruyne!
A diagonal pass from midfield.
Even the viewers with a bird's-eye view hadn't spotted the gap, but De Bruyne found it.
"Oh, pure geometry! THAT IS A PASS WOVEN FROM THE GODS BY DE BRUYNE! A centimeter-perfect delivery, bent around the defense with outrageous swerve!"
"His technique is frankly terrifying."
"As they say in football these days: if a Kevin De Bruyne pass feels uncomfortable to receive, then it simply wasn't meant for you."
Sterling didn't need to adjust at all and easily received the ball.
Unfortunately, he took a bit too long to adjust, allowing Wan-Bissaka to catch up from the side.
He could only aim for the goal and take a shot.
The ball headed straight for the bottom left corner but was blocked by De Gea's outstretched leg.
Sterling clutched his head in frustration.
World-class positioning, Neighborhood Level finishing.
Of course, this statement is certainly an exaggeration, but it still reflects Sterling's characteristics.
De Bruyne couldn't help but sigh.
If Sterling were replaced by Ling, the score on the field would likely have already changed.
But Sterling doesn't seem to think before shooting; he just follows his raw instincts.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have produced the infamous "ghost scene" of skying the ball from five meters out.
He's almost exactly like that Balotelli.
And, as if by coincidence, both have played for Manchester City.
Up front, Ling breathed a sigh of relief. He thought they were going to have to play from behind again, but recalling De Bruyne's pass...
He had actually "seen" it in advance.
Not with his eyes, but through visual imagery in his mind—almost like a bird's-eye view.
Could he deliver a similar pass himself?
Ling felt there was a chance.
First, his ball control is excellent, allowing for high-precision passes.
Combine that with his broad vision.
"Marcus, later, make a run into the gap between Manchester City's center-back and full-back."
Ling found Rashford, covering his mouth as he whispered instructions.
Rashford looked at Manchester City's tightly organized defense.
Though puzzled, he still nodded.
After partnering with Ling for so long, he had learned a valuable lesson: don't ask too many questions; what Ling says always makes sense.
...
The match continued.
After Manchester City flexed their muscles, Manchester United responded fiercely.
A diagonal through ball from Nemanja Matic found Pogba in a dangerous area, and Ilkay Gundogan quickly moved in to disrupt him.
But the German, after major surgery, is far from his former physical self.
Pogba used his physical advantage to forcefully push Gundogan aside, turned, and then aimed a long pass toward the Manchester City penalty area.
This pass was flat and fast, making it difficult for defenders to react.
Ling seemed to have eyes on the back of his head, suddenly accelerating to shake off Aymeric Laporte and raising his left foot to cushion the ball in front of him.
Laporte gave it everything he had but couldn't even touch Ling's shadow.
"The touch is just a fraction heavy, and he can only manage to stab at it!"
"OH, IT BLAZES WIDE! Those drilled, flat passes are devilishly difficult to tame!" Peter Drury said regretfully.
Jim Beglin chimed in, "To even bring that under his spell and get a shot away—that is sheer quality from young Ling."
"Pogba had the right idea there. If he looped it any higher, Ederson would have gobbled it up in a heartbeat."
"Judging by this opening twenty minutes, both sides are throwing caution to the wind! A goal feels inevitable any minute now!"
Just as Jim Beglin had predicted, the game grew increasingly intense.
Manchester United seemed unable to withstand Manchester City's offensive pressure and began shifting their formation deeper, creating space in the forward areas.
It was a classic Defensive Counterattack strategy.
While Manchester City appeared to dominate on the surface, they were actually struggling immensely.
Manchester United's two starting forwards, Ling and Rashford, both possessed excellent speed.
Thus, when United defended densely in their own half, they would immediately launch a long pass forward upon winning possession, bypassing any buildup in the midfield or defensive third.
Players like Maguire and David Luiz were quite adept with their long-passing technique.
Ling would then use his exceptional anticipation of the ball's trajectory and landing point to gain positional advantage, relying on his formidable physique and explosive acceleration to win the first ball.
Leveraging his superb ball control and balanced ability with both feet, he would create more space to handle the ball.
Under the relentless pressure from Ling and Rashford, Aymeric Laporte and Otamendi were left in disarray, repeatedly expressing their frustration.
Ilkay Gundogan's weaknesses were once again exposed.
He could neither press forward to cut off passing lanes nor drop back to provide cover for the center-backs.
Fernandinho was clearly far more capable in this regard.
However, Fernandinho's youth became his biggest issue—he simply couldn't withstand the intensity of high-stakes matches.
Guardiola, considering the second half, had no choice but to keep him on the bench.
In their previous encounter, Manchester United had used Ling as a focal point to forcefully press Manchester City's defensive line, leaving City scrambling in defense.
Today, United adopted a different approach but still achieved the same objective.
Faced with United's efficient counterattacks, Manchester City had no choice but to reduce their attacking intensity and tighten their marking on Ling.
Thus, after an explosive start, both teams grew more cautious as the match progressed.
...
As the sun slowly descended in the sky, the clock reached the 33rd minute, and the game finally saw a shift in momentum.
Once again, it was Ilkay Gundogan.
In a one-on-one duel with Pogba, he was once again outmuscled and outpositioned.
Meanwhile, Ling and Rashford instantly switched from horizontal to vertical runs, shaking off their markers.
"A GLORIOUS, RAKING BALL OVER THE TOP!"
"MANCHESTER UNITED SWITCH THE GEARS IN A HEARTBEAT, CATCHING CITY COLD! THE DEFENDERS ARE SCRAMBLING FRANTICALLY!"
"RASHFORD'S FIRST TOUCH IS SUBLIME! HE SETS HIMSELF! HE LASHES THE VOLLEY!"
The ball shot toward Brazilian goalkeeper Ederson like a cannonball.
Bang!
Ederson hadn't expected Rashford's shot to carry such power.
He failed to hold onto the ball, instead fumbling it.
Panic immediately spread in Manchester City's penalty area, with everyone's eyes fixed on the spinning ball.
Otamendi desperately lunged toward it, while Ederson, disregarding his loss of balance, scrambled on all fours to reach the ball.
But neither of them was as fast as one man.
The explosive acceleration of Manchester United's number 7 was vividly on display at this moment.
From trailing Laporte by a quarter of a body length to leading him by the same margin took only the blink of an eye.
"IT SPILLS... AND LING IS THERE! ASTONISHING! HE DEVOURS THE REBOUND!"
Amid the hopeful gazes of Manchester United fans, he practically bundled the ball into the net!
Ling himself crashed heavily into the goal net, leaving bright red marks across his body.
But he had no time to feel the pain in his body.
He scrambled up, waving his fists as he ran toward the sidelines, executing a passionate and difficult slide tackle.
However, perhaps due to the excessively dry weather, the moisture on the turf had evaporated, making the grass less smooth than expected.
As Ling felt himself losing balance, he immediately pushed off the ground with both hands, leaping up and striking a cool pose.
Mourinho on the sidelines was utterly stunned.
Not only was the goal scored stylishly, but even the celebration was so cool—it could rival even my own back in the day!
But Ling broke out in a cold sweat on his back, thinking he had almost repeated Robben's mistake and embarrassed himself in front of tens of thousands of spectators.
The Manchester United fans in the stands were also cheering wildly.
"This is our number 7!"
"Six trophies, here we come!"
"Who says Defensive Counterattack isn't exciting? You just don't know how to play it!"
In the eyes of Manchester United fans, the Manchester United number 7 should possess Best's brilliance, Robson's never-say-die spirit, and Cantona's rebelliousness.
Now, all these qualities could be found in the young man before them—the new Manchester United number 7.
How could this not excite them?
Mourinho vigorously ruffled Ling's hair. "Good lad, there aren't more than three players in the entire Premier League who could seize an opportunity like that."
He wasn't lying; if anything, he was even exaggerating a bit.
After all, just that formidable explosive power alone made many forwards hesitate, let alone the ability to anticipate the rebound trajectory of the ball.
Only players like Salah or Mbappe might be capable of it.
"There was also an element of luck," Ling said modestly.
If Ederson hadn't fumbled the save, and if the ball hadn't happened to fly to the left, he wouldn't have had the chance to score on the rebound.
"Can you still hold up?"
Mourinho handed him a water bottle.
Manchester United had launched four counterattacks in the first half, each requiring the forwards to run—and sprint at full throttle at that.
This took a massive toll on their stamina.
On top of that, the temperature today reached 35.1 degrees Celsius, and Wembley Stadium's roof was only partially enclosed, unable to fully cover the entire green pitch.
"I'm fine for now, but it'll definitely affect me in the second half. Boss, you'd better start thinking of a solution early."
Ling took the bottle from Mourinho, took a sip to rinse his mouth, and then spat it out.
Even with his system, he wasn't a robot.
At 35°C, engaging in high-intensity anaerobic exercise couldn't be sustained for too long.
He could already feel his ball control precision declining.
Mourinho nodded. "I'll prepare in advance. For now, focus on defense and drag the game to halftime."
Ling resisted the urge to drink, taking only a small sip before returning to the pitch to relay Mourinho's instructions.
...
Meanwhile, on the Manchester City bench, Guardiola stood in the shadows, his expression was anything but sunny.
He was deeply troubled!
Manchester City lacked a tall striker, making their attacking play one-dimensional.
To threaten Manchester United's defense, they first had to break through the midfield press.
But with Kante there, how could it be easy?
And no matter how strong De Bruyne was, he couldn't deliver those kinds of passes too frequently.
"Reduce the number of passes in the half-spaces, increase forward through balls, and rely more on individual skill to break through."
Guardiola instructed solemnly.
David Silva nodded in understanding before turning to comfort his teammates.
"Don't let the many losses to Manchester United tie your hands. We are the best team in the world, and we have the best head coach in the world."
"Everyone, bring out your best form. There's no reason for us to lose to Manchester United again."
"Let's go!!!"
An old saying holds true: When you have too many lice, you stop feeling the itch.
Having lost to Manchester United many times, they were no longer as nervous.
It wasn't that they didn't care about winning or losing, but they could face being behind more calmly and focus their attention on the match.
Aymeric Laporte tapped his forehead and said fiercely, "I won't let him get past me again, even if it costs me a yellow card!"
Even sheep have a bit of temper, let alone football players.
He refused to believe Ling was invincible.
...
Soon, the match restarted.
Manchester City, following Guardiola's instructions, began to break through using individual ability.
On the screen, Kyle Walker forcefully charged past Ashley Young.
There was no helping it—Young hadn't reached his contract year yet, lacking that mysterious boost in power, and could only watch Kyle Walker's retreating figure.
Defensive midfielder Herrera dropped back to cover the defense, but Kyle Walker instead played a sideways pass into the center.
Bernardo Silva!
He had recently secured a starting spot, thanks to his versatile ball-handling.
The Portuguese player could not only rely on shifts in body weight to glide past opponents on the wing and deliver crosses but also connect with teammates on the weak side through passes while dribbling horizontally.
He could also thread through balls during quick advances through the central channels.
To put it simply, Bernardo Silva was like a variable-speed gear, allowing Manchester City to rapidly change tempo.
Facing Kante's harassment, Bernardo Silva first feinted to the right, then cut the ball back to the left, creating a sliver of space!
Seeing this, Kante quickly went to ground with a sliding tackle.
It's worth noting that he rarely resorted to tackles unless forced into a desperate situation.
Maldini once said: "When I have to make a tackle, it means I've already made a mistake."
Kante hadn't expected Bernardo Silva to pull off such consecutive evasions.
Snap!
The football, like a scalpel, sliced straight into the Manchester United penalty area.
Neither David Luiz nor Maguire managed to intercept it, forced to watch helplessly as the ball sped past them.
However, both raised their hands simultaneously, signaling to the referee for offside.
But at the moment Bernardo Silva passed the ball, Sergio Aguero hadn't made his move.
He deliberately paused for a moment before bursting out like an arrow from a bowstring!
Facing De Gea, who had already adopted his signature spread-eagle "K" stance, Aguero deftly struck the ball into the top right corner of the net.
Eight minutes after conceding to Manchester United, Manchester City emphatically equalized, with the goal scored by number 10 Sergio Aguero!
"AGUEROOO! CLINICAL! INEVITABLE!"
"EIGHT MINUTES AFTER FALLING BEHIND, CITY HIT BACK IN EMPHATIC STYLE!"
Cheers erupted at Wembley Stadium.
Manchester City fans bounced and jumped in the stands, forming a vivid blue sea.
"BERNARDO SILVA, HONED IN THE FIRES OF BENFICA'S YOUTH ACADEMY, MOVED TO MONACO FOUR YEARS AGO AND SPARKED A YOUTH REVOLUTION IN LIGUE 1!"
"ALONGSIDE MBAPPE, LEMAR, AND FABINHO... THEY TOPPLED PSG TO LIFT THE FRENCH CROWN!"
"TOGETHER THEY WERE AN INFERNO; APART THEY ARE BRILLIANT CONSTELLATIONS!"
"TWO YEARS AGO, HE ARRIVED AT MANCHESTER CITY FOR 50 MILLION EUROS AND HAS BECOME THE CROWN JEWEL IN GUARDIOLA'S MACHINE!"
"AND TODAY, HE DELIVERS THE MASTERSTROKE, SHATTERING KANTE'S DEFENSE TO FEED AGUERO! WE ARE LEVEL!"
While the Manchester City players celebrated the goal, the Manchester United players were earnestly reviewing the play.
They weren't the type to lose heart just because the score was leveled.
"We need to strengthen the wing defense. Herrera, shift wider toward the flank. Pogba, you need to cover more ground too, cutting off some passing lanes early."
Nemanja Matic pointed out his teammates' issues, and everyone nodded in agreement.
But Ling noticed Kante hanging his head, seemingly blaming himself for being beaten.
He walked over and patted Kante's shoulder.
"Manchester City's number 20 is very strong, plus, defenders are naturally at a disadvantage—it's impossible to succeed in every defensive situation. Just focus on playing well for the rest of the match."
Kante didn't say anything, just nodded.
Ling understood perfectly.
After all, for someone who wears underwear even while showering, getting him to say something emotional is harder than cleanly defeating Manchester City.
The sentiment was enough.
Besides, he believed Kante, with all his experience, must have strong self-adjustment skills.
Otherwise, the Leicester City miracle back in the day wouldn't have happened.
Kante fixed his small eyes on Bernardo Silva, his expression turning very serious.
"There are only five minutes left in the first half. Don't let your guard down because of this. Manchester City will definitely seize the chance to keep attacking."
Ling shouted to his teammates, "Hold the defense until halftime!"
Tweet!!!
...
With the sound of the whistle, the match resumed.
Manchester City tried the same trick again, launching a fast attack from the right flank, with Kyle Walker bursting forward at full speed.
But Young wasn't going to fall for it this time.
He positioned himself on the path forward, forcing Kyle Walker to slow down and cut inside.
The Englishman's speed was undeniable, but his ball control was far too rough.
His touch under pressure was too heavy, allowing Herrera to seize the opportunity and steal the ball.
"AND MANCHESTER UNITED SPRING THE COUNTERATTACK!" Peter Drury slapped the table and stood up abruptly, as if it would help him see more clearly.
The Manchester United fans in the stadium felt the same way.
Ander Herrera didn't linger with the ball in the backfield. Just as he was about to pass to Pogba, he noticed two defenders closing in on him.
David Silva and Ilkay Gundogan.
Manchester City knew Pogba was Manchester United's key playmaker, and Gundogan alone couldn't handle him, so they sent David Silva to double-team him.
"To me!"
Ander Herrera didn't hear Ling's voice, but he saw that figure in red.
The next second.
The ball quickly rolled toward him.
"Don't let him turn! Stick to him!"
Aymeric Laporte shouted sharply.
Otamendi didn't hesitate either, sprinting toward Ling.
Listening to his teammates' warnings, Ling visualized a scene—Rashford's position just moments ago.
He should be near the box by now...
Thinking this, Ling stepped forward to meet the ball, adopting an unusual stance, and gave it a fierce flick with his right foot!
De Bruyne instinctively glanced toward his own half, only to see Rashford already outpacing Laporte.
But he didn't even have time to shout a warning.
The ball arched like a rainbow in the sunlight, dropping precisely into the right side of the penalty area.
"A NO-LOOK BACKHEEL PASS?! PURE AUDACITY!"
"STAGGERING! BREATHTAKING GENIUS FROM THE CAPTAIN!"
Peter Drury's mouth hung open, his face full of disbelief.
Ederson's vision was also broad, and standing at the very back of the pitch, he realized Ling's intent even faster than De Bruyne.
So he decisively chose to rush out of the goal!
Rashford controlled the ball with his knee, realizing there was no time for further adjustment, and hurriedly attempted a chip shot.
The idea was good, but the execution was poor.
Because he misjudged the power, the ball flew upward only to be plucked out of the air by Ederson's leap.
The referee didn't give Manchester City another chance to attack, blowing the whistle to signal the end of the first half.
Rashford irritably ruffled his hair, "My bad, I didn't make the run early enough. If I had, there would have been room to adjust, and I could have had more options."
Truth be told, he hadn't expected Ling to deliver such a high-quality pass while back-to-goal and without a clear line of sight.
"No worries, there's still a chance in the second half."
Ling was very understanding.
In reality, his pass still had some flaws; his control over the landing point wasn't ideal.
If only he had De Bruyne's technique.
Ling glanced at De Bruyne, thinking to himself, De Bruyne really is something else!
No wonder people say that after a man gets cheated on, he always finds the motivation to push himself harder.
De Bruyne was quite perceptive!
Noticing Ling's gaze, he even gave a friendly nod.
Ling awkwardly rubbed his nose, thinking he shouldn't casually criticize others behind their backs in the future.
He needed to be an upright football player!