"The arrival of Tang Long has shattered the world’s prejudice that China can’t produce football stars. This 18-year-old is proving with his actions that a new king has been born at Meazza!"
Ronaldo put down the newspaper, staring blankly into the vast white sky.
In the last month, reports like these have been seen by Ronaldo almost every week.
They’ve extolled Tang Long to the heavens, talking about the reincarnation of Messi and Ronaldo, and the rebirth of Pele.
But Ronaldo knew the truth in his heart.
To maintain such praise, he can’t afford to relax for a moment, and his performance can’t regress for a single match.
Otherwise, the king of Meazza praised by the media this week could become the team’s bane next week!
Chasing hot topics and stirring emotions have always been the things these media excel at.
Ronaldo’s thoughts began to travel back to over ten years ago.
He recalled returning to the field after a year and a half of rest following a torn cruciate ligament in his knee, only to tear it again just ten minutes into his comeback.
He clutched his knee, sitting on the field in agony, even breaking the hearts of his opponents who watched.
After that match, the media, which had high hopes for Ronaldo’s return, covered him with scorn.
"The Brazilian’s body is finished!"
"Ronaldo has become a burden to Inter; he is no longer fit for professional football!"
"From an alien to a mortal, a lack of discipline destroyed Ronaldo’s future!"
"Inter’s cancer! A burden drawing a high salary from a hospital bed!"
As Ronaldo thought about this, tears welled up in his eyes...
The city of Milan at night was brilliantly lit.
In this ancient cultural city with a history of two thousand four hundred years, the fast pace of modern life blends with a rich historical culture.
Ronaldo’s figure had quietly left, leaving this city to continue telling its story.
Outside the Milan Cathedral, a flock of black pigeons settled on the forecourt, still waiting to be fed by tourists.
But as the last glow of the sunset vanished on the horizon, the quiet gray stone plaza gradually became engulfed by the night, becoming empty and silent.
Several dim streetlights stood lonely as if only illuminating their solitary shadows.
Moonlight poured down like a fine stream, gently casting over the black pigeons, cloaking their jet-black feathers in a soft gleam, making these creatures appear more enchanting in the night.
Most pigeons nestled beside the grand stone columns of the cathedral, like sleeping guardians.
Their black feathers covered in a layer of gleam, appearing even more mysterious.
Many pigeons huddled in a corner of the cathedral’s grand stone columns, as if asleep.
But one pigeon refused to remain lonely.
This restless black pigeon continually cooed, hopping around the pigeon flock.
Soon, the sound of its fluttering wings echoed across the spacious cathedral plaza, crisp and powerful.
This restless black pigeon flew toward the western sky.
It soared in the night sky, seemingly searching for bustling places.
It skimmed over high voltage towers standing like giants in the night, passed through dense oak forests, and crossed over a low apple orchard.
After flying for eight kilometers, it suddenly saw an expanse of bustling activity!
The black pigeon tucked its wings, landing with a "flap, flap" onto the grass of Meazza Stadium.
It curiously perched on the crossbar of the goalpost, observing everything on the field.
Just then, a sudden "bang!" startled the black pigeon, and it fluttered its wings in shock, flying away.
However, at the moment it flew away from the crossbar, a ball struck the inside of the post’s corner at an astonishing speed, made a crisp sound, and then went into the net!
This scene seemed to be a miracle brought by the black pigeon, instantly electrifying the entire stadium.
Tang Long opened his arms at the edge of the penalty area, looking at Bonazzoli who had just scored.
Bonazzoli looked bewildered, standing motionless, staring at the ball in the net.
What’s going on, I scored?
Why at that moment did my mind suddenly freeze, out of control.
Clearly, cutting in isn’t my habit, so why did I do it?