Time flew by, and soon it was August 19th.
Swansea, Wales, Liberty Stadium.
The second round of the Premier League was in full swing, with Swansea hosting Manchester United at home.
Since Cardiff City's relegation to the Championship in the 2013-14 season, Swansea had become the only Welsh team currently competing in the Premier League, naturally drawing attention from most local fans.
Due to the complex thousand-year history between Wales and England, the relationship between their fans had become particularly hostile, evident from the intense atmosphere on the pitch.
From the very start of the match, both teams engaged in fierce confrontations, desperately fighting for possession.
Standing on the sidelines was Swansea's head coach, Bradley, who had just led the team through a relegation battle last season.
Known for his generally cautious coaching style, even while playing at home today, he insisted his team adopt a compact defensive approach.
Not only did they pack players in front of their penalty area to cut off Lukaku's connections with his teammates,
But they also deployed two quick forwards up front, ready to launch rapid counterattacks from any clearances.
This forced Manchester United's midfield and defensive players to hesitate pushing too far forward, as they had to conserve energy for defensive duties.
Thus, the match descended into a stalemate.
In the 26th minute of the match, Pogba received a yellow card for an overly aggressive tackle after losing possession.
Swansea's fans were provocatively gesturing toward the pitch, attempting to incite anger among Manchester United players.
On the sidelines, Mourinho gestured with palms pressed downward, signaling his players to remain calm, continue attacking, and create more set-piece opportunities.
Someone had once told him a saying:
"When the caravan passes, a pack of dogs barks. Look at those dogs—they can only barks, but the caravan moves on."
Since then, Mourinho had never cared about opponents' doubts, retaliating only with cold, hard facts.
Not far behind him, Ling and Ibrahimovic sat side by side, intently discussing the match.
Both were substitutes again...
Though for entirely different reasons: the former lacked sufficient ability, while the latter had not fully recovered from injury.
Ling wasn't particularly bothered.
After receiving Mourinho's assurance that morning, he had immersed himself fully in training.
He even brought gifts to Carrick, asking if he could share some long-passing expertise.
Faced with the diligent youngster's request, the kind-hearted Carrick had no reason to refuse.
Thus, Ling followed Ibrahimovic for Taekwondo practice before daily training and trained long passes with Carrick afterward.
Every day was intensely fulfilling.
Ling's gaze fixed on the pitch, mentally placing himself in the action.
By the 43rd minute, United's players seemed influenced by Mourinho, their anxious moods gradually stabilizing.
Mata received a pass on the wing and decisively cut inside, slipping a diagonal pass to the right flank before defenders closed in.
Valencia, overlapping on the wing, took two touches before whipping a cross from the right edge of the penalty area.
The ball arced like a brilliant rainbow, dropping near the penalty spot.
Lukaku, tightly marked for most of the match with few touches, finally unleashed his pent-up frustration.
He leaped high, overpowering his marker, and snapped his dark head fiercely toward the ball.
Thump!
Swansea goalkeeper Fabianski—formerly Arsenal's second-choice keeper, renowned for quick reflexes—flung himself sideways, barely tipping the ball over the end line.
Gasps of disbelief rippled through the Liberty Stadium.
Swansea fans broke into cold sweats before taunting with renewed vigor.
"Face it—you can't score!"
"Piss off back where you came from!"
...
On the pitch.
Lukaku spat in frustration.
Even a sure goal was saved—what rotten luck.
"Stay focused! Remember the pre-match tactics!" Matic shouted to his teammates.
As five tall United players flooded the box, the cramped area descended into chaos, bodies jostling in tight spaces.
Mourinho's preference for height had long become a trademark of his tactical style.
With players in position, Mata raised three fingers and swiftly took the corner.
Simultaneously, Lukaku jumped high again near the penalty spot.
Still wary after the earlier powerful header, Swansea defenders pressed close, disrupting his movement.
But no one anticipated the ball sailing through the air toward the far post.
United center-back Bailly, completely unmarked, headed it forward effortlessly into the net.
Roar!!!
The Manchester United fans who had traveled with the team erupted like a boiling pot, wildly waving flags and cheering to celebrate this hard-earned goal.
The previously arrogant Swansea fans instantly turned ashen-faced, falling silent and closing their mouths.
On the sidelines, Mourinho wore a faint cold smile at the corner of his mouth as he glanced toward the opposite stands.
Due to last season's offensive struggles, he had specifically designed new set-piece tactics aimed at breaking deadlocks in tightly contested matches.
On the other side, Bradley frowned deeply.
Conceding a goal just before halftime not only disrupted his tactical plans but would also affect the players' morale.
He gestured for the team to strengthen their defense and hold on until the break.
On the pitch.
The previously evenly matched situation had completely turned one-sided.
Manchester United, seizing the momentum, continued to launch fierce attacks in the forward line.
However, with little time left in the first half, they failed to score another goal before the referee blew the whistle for halftime.
The Swansea players breathed a sigh of relief.
Though only a few minutes had passed, it felt unbearably long, as if they wished they could press a fast-forward button.
This was mainly because the earlier goal had been too devastating, crushing their morale and distorting their movements.
They almost wished they had fallen behind earlier...
The Manchester United players, elated by their lead, cheerfully headed toward the tunnel.
But as soon as they pushed open the locker room door, they were met with a voice as cold as ice, and their smiles instantly vanished.
"I am very dissatisfied with your performance!"
"Swansea finished 15th last season, just three places above the relegation zone."
"But in the entire 45 minutes of the first half, we only managed six shots, three of which posed no threat at all."
"Aside from that, you accomplished nothing!"
"..."
After reprimanding them for a while, Mourinho took a sip of water from his cup and continued.
"Strengthen the defense in the second half. Wait for the opponent to push forward, then look for opportunities to counterattack quickly."
The Manchester United players hurriedly nodded in agreement, afraid of drawing his ire.
Mourinho didn't press further, briefly reviewed the match, and then turned to Ling.
"If the score remains unchanged by the 75th minute, I'll sub you in."
"Swansea's defense on the wings isn't strong. After you break through, make timely crosses and don't give them time to reorganize."
"Okay, Coach."
Ling suppressed his excitement and replied softly.
Though he felt somewhat guilty for thinking it, he secretly hoped the team wouldn't score.
That way, he would get his chance to play, showcase the results of his recent training, and earn more opportunities.
In this regard, everyone is selfish, and he was no exception.