We made you the King of Prisoners, and now you've become the King of Football?

Chapter 34 White Deer Lane

England had just experienced a light, cold rain in December; the weather there is just that bad.

London's Heathrow Airport.

In the arrival hall, a particularly eye-catching crowd attracted the attention of many locals and tourists.

Unlike the commuters around them who were dragging suitcases and hurrying along, 90% of this group of people were Asian with black hair and yellow skin.

Most of them were young people in their early twenties, crowding around the international arrivals exit, holding up all sorts of support items.

Some girls held up their own hand-drawn cartoon versions of Captain Tsubasa, while others held up printed signs with all sorts of words on them.

British locals passing by glanced over, but most couldn't understand the illegible Chinese characters.

All you can see in the most prominent position on each board are those two Chinese characters—Jiang Ming.

Mbappé, who had somehow appeared nearby, said in a sour tone, "Wow, Jiang! Your first time playing in European competition abroad, and you get so many fans at the airport. Your reception is almost bigger than mine!"

Jiang Ming glanced at him, hands in his pockets, and said casually, "You foreigners wouldn't understand this. When we meet a fellow countryman in a foreign land, it's like seeing a relative. It's perfectly normal for a fellow countryman to come and pick up another fellow countryman."

Mbappe's lips twitched after hearing this: In Europe, you're the foreigner, aren't you?

Fabinho, carrying his suitcase, also came over and nodded in agreement: "That makes sense. Just look at Son Heung-min at Tottenham."

"That guy's Korean fans in London can fill almost half the stands at every match, that's real treatment."

Jiang Ming greeted the two excited fans and walked over to the group of Chinese fans who were already waving.

The group of young people studying in the UK erupted in excitement as soon as they saw him approach, crowding around him.

Some held up Monaco jerseys with his name on them, while others took photos of him with their phones, shouting "Go Jiang Ming!" and "Beat Tottenham!" The sounds rose and fell.

Jiang Ming didn't put on airs. He took the pens and notebooks from the fans one by one, signed them carefully, and occasionally took a couple of photos with the excited fans who blushed.

As they were signing, a Chinese man wearing a Lay's Sports reporter's badge finally managed to squeeze through the crowd.

Holding a microphone, he quickly leaned over and asked, "Hello Jiang Ming! I'm a reporter from Lay's Sports based in England. Could I have two minutes of your time to ask you a few questions?"

Jiang Ming glanced back and saw his teammates still checking their checked baggage with airport staff.

Yaldin was standing to the side making a phone call, and since he couldn't gather everyone to leave in a short time, he nodded and said, "Okay, hurry up, just two minutes."

As soon as the reporter saw that he had agreed, he immediately started flipping through his notebook.

He knew the team would be going to the hotel to prepare for the next match, so he didn't dare to waste too much time and quickly picked out a few questions he had prepared in advance to ask:

"My first question is, will you play in this match? Will you start or come on as a substitute?"

"..."

Upon hearing this, Jiang Ming rubbed his forehead, inwardly thinking: Was this reporter just someone hastily brought in to make up the numbers? Is this kind of tactical arrangement issue something you can just casually talk about?

But he still had a polite smile on his face and replied, "It depends on the coach's arrangements. I will strictly follow Mr. Jardim's plans. As for these kinds of tactical issues, you can ask him after the game."

The reporter scratched his head, said "Oh," and quickly flipped to the next page of his notebook, asking, "So, you've been in such good form lately, are you naturally gifted from a young age? Why didn't you start playing in the Chinese league?"

"Why……"

Jiang Ming paused as he signed autographs for the fans, and couldn't help but sigh.

These questions are getting more and more outrageous; are they all designed to trap him?

He composed himself, smiled into the microphone, and said, "When I came to Monaco's youth training program, I was still young and felt that the French youth training system suited me better."

"Of course, this is not meant to belittle the Chinese league. The domestic league has developed very well in recent years."

"So, the national team..."

Seeing that the reporter was about to ask more questions and was about to utter a word that sounded a bit explosive.

Jiang Ming quickly waved to him, pointed behind him, and shouted, "We're all here, time to go!"

He turned around and darted back into his teammates, running incredibly fast.

"This is terrifying. The reporter's questions are getting more and more outrageous. If he keeps asking, who knows what shocking revelations he might uncover."

He didn't even dare to think about what other outrageous questions this guy might ask.

……

After more than half an hour of commotion, the whole team finally boarded the bus to a hotel near White Hart Lane.

As the car drove north along London's roads, the streetscape outside the window gradually changed from the airport's commercial district to the residential area of ​​Tottenham.

Mbappe suddenly grabbed the car window, pointed excitedly at a stadium in the distance, and shouted, "Look! That's White Hart Lane!"

"Wow, it's huge! It looks like it can hold 36,000 people! It's almost twice the size of our Stade Louis II!"

"It is quite big, but I heard that Tottenham is going to build a new stadium. The land was approved in March this year."

B, who had been sitting quietly in his seat playing on his phone, suddenly chimed in with a comment.

"Damn, you even knew that?" Fabinho teased, leaning closer. "Are you already looking for a new club, researching all the Premier League teams beforehand?"

Seat B: "..."

Jiang Ming sat beside him listening, and sighed inwardly: Fabinho was actually right.

Bernardo Silva did eventually come to England, but not to Tottenham, but to Manchester City.

Thinking about it, he turned his head and looked out the window at the stadium.

The old White Hart Lane stadium is squeezed between a residential area and a railway, and there has long been no room for expansion.

It wasn't exactly old, but compared to the technologically advanced White Hart Lane he remembered four years later, it certainly lacked a modern feel.

He glanced at the promotional banners outside the stadium, where a huge headshot of Son Heung-min was prominently displayed.

This is clearly a visual campaign specifically prepared by Tottenham for the South Korean market.

"This is White Deer Lane..." Jiang Ming muttered softly.

Tomorrow, they will play a crucial match against Tottenham in this stadium to determine their qualification for the Europa League knockout stage.

……

After the team checked into the hotel near the stadium and put their luggage in their rooms, they set off for White Hart Lane for a practice session without even having a chance to catch their breath.

There's a tradition in away games in European competitions: the day before the match, players get used to the pitch, feel the firmness of the grass, and get a feel for the field.

On the way, Jardim pulled captain Moutinho on a detour to attend the pre-match press conference first.

The remaining players went directly to the field for a simple warm-up session.

The press conference venue was already packed with reporters, who immediately fired off the most pointed questions:

"Qarabag is finding it very difficult to beat Anderlecht. If Anderlecht wins their last match, your chances of advancing will become extremely slim. Do you realize your current situation?"

"Are you ready to fight Tottenham to the very last minute?"

Moutinho sat next to Jardim, speaking calmly into the microphone: "Of course we understand the current situation, so we will definitely do everything we can to qualify."

"We proved at home in the last round that our attack can cause Tottenham enough trouble."

He paused, then smiled at the reporters below the stage: "I know that many media outlets are saying that we have no chance of winning, that it's an impossible victory."

"But all I want to say is that nothing is absolutely impossible on the football field. We'll see how it goes in tomorrow's game."