When Yang Yang returned home from De Toekomst, Raiola was already waiting for him.
"Mino, what's got you so excited?" Yang Yang asked curiously.
Earlier that afternoon, around two or three o'clock, Raiola had called him. Now here he was in Amsterdam by evening, pretending to pull off some kind of surprise—which only made Yang Yang more suspicious.
He had a vague guess, though. Chances were, it was about money.
Only money could get this Italian agent worked up like that.
"Haha! Attending the FIFA awards ceremony really paid off!" Raiola declared, beaming with pride, wearing the smug expression of a man who thought he'd just masterminded a genius move. Yang Yang rolled his eyes.
Is this guy a little deranged?
"Alright, enough with the mystery. What is it?" Yang Yang pressed him.
"Guess how many sponsorship calls I received today," Raiola said, grinning like a game show host.
"Two or three," Yang Yang replied without much thought.
Raiola's expression dropped in mock disappointment. "You really think that little of yourself? Try again."
"Five?" Yang Yang said.
Raiola shook his head again, then leaned in with exaggerated flair. "Seven? Eight?"
Still Raiola shook his head, then dramatically dropped the real number. "Over a dozen calls! I've barely had time to breathe since this morning."
He pointed to his phone, a Motorola Blade that Yang Yang had gifted him, now charging by the sofa. "Look at that. I'm not exaggerating."
"Oh wow, that's quite a few," Yang Yang said. He found it a bit surprising, but didn't show much excitement. It wasn't that he didn't care—it just felt premature.
Lots of sponsors could express interest. But unless it reached the stage of real contracts, there wasn't much to be excited about yet.
It just meant people were paying attention. That was all.
Raiola noticed Yang Yang's calm and chuckled. "You really think I'd get this worked up over a few cold calls?"
"Didn't you?" Yang Yang asked, amused.
"Of course not," Raiola said, puffing his chest out indignantly. "I'm excited because two of those calls were from very big names. And both want to skip straight to formal negotiations."
Yang Yang was intrigued now. "Who?"
"Italian fashion giants—Armani and Dolce & Gabbana!"
Yang Yang's eyebrows lifted in genuine surprise.
Now that was something. These weren't ordinary sponsors—they were global luxury icons.
"Impressed?" Raiola grinned, soaking in the moment.
"Armani and Dolce & Gabbana were extremely pleased with your look and presence at the awards ceremony," he continued. "They think you align perfectly with their brand identity, so they both want to bring you on as a brand ambassador."
Yang Yang listened carefully.
"These brands don't usually work with just anyone," Raiola said, lowering his voice as if sharing a trade secret. "They go after the elite. You're officially on their radar."
Raiola gave a little chuckle, then added, "Of course, they're not only impressed by your performance and potential—they're also very aware of the size of the Chinese market. That's a big part of the equation."
Yang Yang nodded thoughtfully.
He had already guessed as much. With China's rapid economic growth in recent years, more and more international brands were shifting their gaze eastward. Nike had already locked him into a €3 million sponsorship deal not long ago. Clearly, they intended to leverage his appeal to expand in China.
Nike is a giant in the sports industry, so naturally, their insight into emerging markets was ahead of the curve. But now, even companies outside the sports sector had begun to take notice—especially after Yang Yang's appearance at the FIFA World Player of the Year ceremony. That event made him a household name globally and gave his image a seal of credibility that couldn't be ignored.
Everything was developing more or less as Raiola had predicted. But even the Italian agent hadn't expected things to escalate this fast—especially not to the point where two of Italy's premier luxury brands were knocking on their door. That, even by his standards, was a bit surreal.
Armani's current global face was Shevchenko. The brand had long preferred AC Milan stars for endorsements, largely because its founder, Giorgio Armani, was a lifelong Milan supporter. Word had it that he was personally close to Shevchenko.
In Yang Yang's case, the motivation was more strategic—his massive commercial potential in China.
It was simple math: Yang Yang was now the most powerful commercial figure in the Chinese sports world.
He didn't need a flashy campaign or an international ad rollout to prove it. All it took was that red carpet appearance in Zurich. The next day, every major media outlet in China—newspapers, TV stations, websites—was plastered with his image. The buzz was instant. The response, overwhelming.
At this point, no Chinese athlete—not even Yao Ming or Liu Xiang—could match Yang Yang's cross-sector influence. He was the face of modern Chinese sport.
"Both companies are very serious," Raiola said, positively giddy as he leaned forward. "And based on industry standards, the fees will be excellent. Armani, in particular, is highly motivated. They just opened the largest Armani flagship store in China last year, in Shanghai. If they land your image as their spokesperson, it would explode the high-end market overnight."
Yang Yang couldn't help but feel a bit of private satisfaction. He'd been careful not to overexpose or cheapen his image these past few years. Every domestic brand that had licensed his portrait rights was reputable—top-tier names with excellent reputations.
It was important.
If he had shared branding with lower-end or knock-off labels, how awkward would it be now to stand beside a luxury house like Armani?
That's where Wei Zheng's guidance had truly proven insightful. He had always been picky, emphasizing long-term brand value over short-term cash grabs.
"I'll handle the negotiations," Raiola assured him, practically rubbing his hands together. "I guarantee you a strong deal."
Whether he ended up signing with Dolce & Gabbana or Armani, the commercial value Yang Yang stood to gain was undeniable. Just being associated with one of them would instantly elevate his brand cachet and open up an entire new layer of opportunities.
Even if the first contract came in at a modest fee, it would snowball. Other premium brands would follow suit, eager to capitalize on the aura of exclusivity brought by association with luxury.
It was the Beckham model.
David Beckham had turned his body into a commercial empire. From hair products to sunglasses, grooming kits to suits—and yes, even underwear—if it could be endorsed, Beckham had probably signed the deal. And he had made a fortune doing it.
In fact, most industry insiders agreed that Beckham's income from off-field endorsements had long surpassed anything he made playing football.
"Our domestic attitude towards this stuff is still a bit conservative," Yang Yang said thoughtfully. "Underwear endorsements... we can pass on that for now. You can handle the rest."
Raiola smirked, nodding in understanding.
Raiola was particularly excited. "If I can close the deal with Armani or Dolce & Gabbana, I'll make Nike and Adidas bleed next!"
Looking at the beaming Italian, Yang Yang could only think of one word: shameless.
But it was understandable. Raiola's earnings were directly tied to Yang Yang's contracts — especially endorsements — and he received a cut from every sponsorship deal he negotiated.
Of course, it depended on the nature of the deal.
For example, when Yang Yang signed his contract with Nike, he received €3 million — after tax. Nike took care of all taxes and Raiola's commission. And importantly, that €3 million only secured Yang Yang's portrait rights — the right to use his image in campaigns and promotional materials. If Nike wanted him to attend an event or shoot a commercial, that came at an additional fee, already outlined in their agreement.
This was why, ahead of the World Cup, Nike had reached out through Raiola to invite Yang Yang to participate in a special ad campaign, scheduled to be filmed during the two-week winter break in early January.
The same structure applied to his deal with Ajax. The €25,000 weekly salary Yang Yang received was net income, with the club responsible for taxes and agent fees.
That wasn't always the case for other players. Raiola, for example, had made Ibrahimović pay his commission himself when he signed with Juventus — a deal that stirred debate at the time in Italy.
The more experience Yang Yang accumulated, the more he understood the impact of Florentino Pérez's words in Zurich.
Take portrait rights, for example. Florentino and Real Madrid had revolutionized how clubs viewed this asset.
When Madrid signed Figo by activating his release clause — a move that shocked the football world — critics said they overpaid. But Real Madrid also acquired Figo's portrait rights. Through clever commercial operations, they not only recouped his transfer fee but made a profit.
In contrast, Manchester United — often praised for their marketing acumen — had rarely earned much from David Beckham's image rights, despite his global popularity. In that sense, Florentino's vision truly set him apart.
Yang Yang remained curious about how Florentino planned to overhaul and modernize Real Madrid.
"Mino, keep an eye on the situation in Spain for me. If anything significant happens, let me know immediately," Yang Yang instructed.
He knew he had to stay focused on training and matches. Raiola, ever the watchful agent, nodded in agreement.
"Don't worry," Raiola said. "I'm already keeping tabs on everything."
If Yang Yang ended up joining Real Madrid, it would be a monumental leap in his career. But for now, his agent's priority was to close the deal with either Armani or Dolce & Gabbana.
Signing with either brand would elevate Yang Yang's commercial profile exponentially — possibly tenfold or more. Once a luxury name was on board, other high-end brands would line up, eager to associate themselves with him.
Just look at Beckham — endorsements from head to toe, from his hair products to his underwear line. At one point, his off-pitch income far exceeded his salary from football.
"Our people are still conservative about this kind of exposure," Yang Yang said with a smirk. "Forget underwear ads — we're not ready for that yet. You can negotiate everything else."
Raiola chuckled. "Fair enough. I'll take care of the rest."
But Yang Yang's mind was already shifting away from endorsements.
He didn't obsess over money.
What truly preoccupied him was the upcoming challenge — the UEFA Champions League round of 16.
Ajax had drawn Real Madrid.
As group winners, Ajax would travel to the Santiago Bernabéu for the first leg, followed by a return leg at home.
Yang Yang remembered the clash two years ago in the first leg— Ronaldo, Zidane, and the others launched wave after wave of devastating attacks. Ajax had no answer, overwhelmed in every phase of the game.
Now, two years later, would the result be the same?
Or was he finally ready to face the lights of the Bernabéu head-on?