Chapter 341: Six Titles Aren't the Ceiling—We're Going for Seven!
Strictly speaking, Li Ang's goal could be considered a five-man dribble-and-score.
It wasn't all fancy footwork from start to finish. Rather, it showcased the perfect blend of power and technique he now possessed.
There were flashes of nimble dribbling and moments of brute physical dominance.
Li Ang's approach on that goal mirrored Mourinho's coaching philosophy—pragmatic, efficient, never flashy for the sake of it.
To neutral fans, seeing such a brilliant goal scored in a clash between two giants was a treat.
But Manchester City fans? They weren't smiling.
Li Ang had suddenly revealed another new layer to his game. The kind of evolution that made their heads hurt.
Ever since he transferred to Chelsea two seasons ago, City had never beaten Chelsea.
Yes, part of that was Mourinho's sharp tactics and the fact that Chelsea's playing style naturally countered City's system.
But to City fans, the most direct, painful part of that reality was Li Ang turning into a monster every time he played them.
That kind of recurring dominance became a hot topic in the British media.
Li Ang had once stated in interviews that it wasn't personal. He simply thrived against strong opponents.
That kind of competition brought out his best.
He had denied any personal grudge against City.
But by now, City fans no longer cared for reason. Because at this point, it looked like personal beef.
What else could explain it?
Chelsea had faced all the European giants over the past two seasons, but it was always against Barcelona that Li Ang hit beast mode.
So in their minds, the logic was simple: Li Ang always went all-out against teams associated with the old "Galáctic Barça."
It made sense. He was a Real Madrid academy graduate, after all.
Of course he'd go all in against Barça… and now, Guardiola's City.
And honestly, that theory would probably go viral if someone posted it online.
But Li Ang?
He didn't think that way at all.
Sure, he had some personal beef with Barça fans, especially from their online wars in the past.
But with Manchester City? With Guardiola? He held no grudge whatsoever.
It was purely professional.
City had become Chelsea's strongest domestic rival, and he took every match against them seriously.
And rightly so.
City were evolving rapidly. If Chelsea didn't bring their best every time, they'd get punished.
Facing an opponent like that? Giving anything less than 100% was disrespectful.
And to Li Ang, respecting your opponent was respecting yourself.
So after scoring that brilliant goal, Li Ang didn't get cocky.
He finished celebrating with his teammates, tugged at his captain's armband to tighten it, and signaled for everyone to stay focused.
Luis Suárez, seeing the sharp shift from celebration to composure on Li Ang's face, had a strange flash of déjà vu—he felt like he was back at Liverpool.
For a moment, he could've sworn that Li Ang looked just like Gerrard, rallying his team after a goal.
"Luis?"
Li Ang noticed Suárez staring and gave him a gentle nudge.
"Ah—sorry. I was just thinking…"
"No worries. You're doing great up front. Keep it up. I'll try to feed you more passes."
That simple reply stunned Suárez.
Because back when he first joined Liverpool and was struggling, Gerrard used to tell him the exact same thing.
Not wanting to get too sentimental, Suárez smiled wide.
"Got it, captain!"
Li Ang grinned back and gave him a nod.
He figured Suárez was just a little nervous.
But he had no doubt about his striker's quality.
Once play resumed, Li Ang motioned for midfield to drop and solidify the defense.
The forwards, including Suárez, immediately transitioned into pressing roles.
Chelsea gave up the midfield battle—and shifted into their favorite game mode: defend and counter.
Much to the horror of City fans, Mourinho had triggered their most dreaded phase.
On the bench, Guardiola remained composed—far more so than the grim-looking City substitutes behind him.
He had, after all, witnessed Li Ang's rise with his own eyes.
Over the past two seasons, he'd watched him evolve faster than anyone in world football.
So when Li Ang tore through City's defense like that, Guardiola was shocked—but only briefly.
He had seen this pattern too many times before.
At this point, if Mourinho deployed Li Ang as a striker, Guardiola wouldn't be surprised.
There was no point dwelling on the goal. It had already happened.
Instead, he needed to figure out how to stop the next one.
City had spent the offseason refining their system.
Last season, they would've panicked after conceding first to Chelsea.
But this year was different.
They weren't afraid of Chelsea's counterattacks anymore.
After a summer of high-press training, and hard physical conditioning, Guardiola believed City were now ready for all-out warfare.
No need to be afraid. No need to play it safe.
They would keep pressing high.
They would keep attacking.
Bayern and Chelsea had already proven that this style of football wins trophies.
And now that City had shored up their defensive weaknesses, Guardiola believed they could finally reach that level too.
It wasn't arrogance.
It was the belief that he had finally built the right squad, with the right tactical approach for the modern era.
Chelsea had their young stars.
So did City.
Guardiola knew they might lose this match.
But if his players could show that they had the spirit to go toe-to-toe with Chelsea,
if his new signings could prove they belonged at the top level…
Then this Community Shield would be a victory, regardless of the score.
This mindset was so zen-like, even Sky Sports' commentators were caught off guard.
Mourinho couldn't read what his old rival was thinking today.
But deep down, his instincts told him—this calm was dangerous.
"City's tactical shift is pretty noticeable," Holland muttered beside him. "Their defensive shape is much tighter now, and their double pivot has way better coverage. If Li Ang hadn't scored early, I'd say this one could easily have dragged into the second half before we broke through…"
Mourinho nodded instinctively, eyes still fixed on the pitch.
Out there, Chelsea's players could also feel the growing pressure from Manchester City's relentless attacking push.
City's players were executing Guardiola's game plan to perfection.
Despite conceding first, they didn't collapse or fall into chaos like they had last season.
Li Ang sensed trouble too, though his face betrayed nothing.
He remained calm—outwardly, at least.
That calmness was its own kind of leadership. It gave his teammates confidence.
Kroos, among all the Chelsea players, had the sharpest feel for game flow.
What Li Ang saw, Kroos also saw.
But at crunch time, just like the others, Kroos chose to trust Li Ang's judgment without hesitation.
Chelsea remained in their defensive shell.
But the moment Li Ang made a hand signal toward Kroos, a tactical shift was set in motion.
Li Ang didn't want City to press so comfortably. He didn't want them to control the tempo without resistance.
The way they kept attacking even after going down a goal—it wasn't normal.
They needed to be cooled off.
Even if the counterattack didn't yield a goal, breaking City's momentum would still be worth it.
Some risks are worth taking.
And besides, if things went sideways, Mourinho would step in and make adjustments.
Li Ang wasn't worried about losing the tactical battle—not with that man on the touchline.
So, trusting his instincts, Li Ang suddenly changed approach.
No more passive cover with Matić.
He started pressing high, hunting for an interception.
Mourinho raised an eyebrow from the sidelines when he noticed—but said nothing.
Instead, he sharpened his focus, closely watching what would unfold.
Li Ang's sudden defensive push was like the sounding of a war horn.
The rest of Chelsea's back line quickly responded with more aggressive pressing.
The tempo surged.
Players from both sides burned through stamina at a rapid rate.
But fans watching on TV? They were thrilled.
This was the kind of high-paced clash they lived for.
Compared to last season, City's physicality had clearly improved.
But Chelsea had been living in this high-press system for two years.
When they cranked it up, they could still win the ball cleanly off City's feet.
In the 34th minute, Sterling made a pressured backpass down the wing—but it went straight to an intercepting Kroos.
Li Ang surged forward.
Kroos's through ball was timed perfectly.
Li Ang touched the ball and—instead of continuing forward—launched a 40-meter diagonal lofted pass across the field!
If Ibrahimović were still here, he'd probably have used his bulk to shield the ball and then pass it wide.
But this was Suárez now, and his first instinct was different.
He didn't hold it up. He took it on the turn and drove forward.
It wasn't the wrong choice—he was perfectly capable of carrying the ball.
But it did mess with Chelsea's rhythm.
Hazard and De Bruyne both assumed he'd play wide, and so they had already made their runs to the flanks.
Now, with Fernandinho catching up to him and no passing lanes open, Suárez had no choice but to pause and wait.
Chelsea's counter lost steam.
But thankfully, Li Ang had followed up his pass with a timely second run.
Suárez held off Fernandinho and, spotting Li Ang's run, flicked the ball behind him with his heel.
Chelsea's counterattack engine roared back to life.
Li Ang charged forward.
Gündoğan had no choice but to abandon his post and press up to challenge.
But just as he did, Li Ang calmly split the ball to the wing.
"Li Ang's played a diagonal pass! Kolarov can't reach it—De Bruyne's in space!"
The Sky Sports commentator's voice lifted, tension crackling in the broadcast.
De Bruyne didn't rush.
He scanned the box quickly as he sprinted into position.
Suárez dashed toward the far post.
And De Bruyne whipped in a cross.
But the ball didn't go to Suárez—it dropped into the near post.
Kompany, pulled away by Suárez's run, was out of position.
Now, Li Ang—marked only by Otamendi—had his moment.
He jumped.
Otamendi leapt too.
But Li Ang had the momentum. He made contact first.
Instead of shooting, he nodded the ball back across goal.
The ball dropped into the six-yard box.
Suárez—who had kept moving—ghosted in, right on cue.
No touch. No hesitation. A first-time volley.
The ball screamed into the near corner.
Bravo had no chance.
He'd been watching Li Ang the whole time—he never saw Suárez coming.
When the net rippled, Li Ang exhaled.
He looked up and locked eyes with Suárez—who was grinning wildly, pointing straight at him.
"Nice ball, Luis!"
"Haha! I knew you'd see my run! It was all you, man!"
They laughed and hugged by the corner flag.
Seconds later, the rest of Chelsea's midfielders came flooding in—embracing, shouting, eyes blazing.
There was no hiding their hunger.
Six titles?
That wasn't the limit.
Because Chelsea was coming for the seventh.
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