Chapter 109: Losing You, Tang Might Reveal His Most Fatal Flaw

On the 24th, Villarreal players traveled away for a friendly against Real Sociedad; Tang Ye, A Lai , and Rodrigo were not included in the match squad because they had only recently joined Villarreal’s first team.

The club was giving players time to adjust; before the match began, Tang Ye, accompanied by a real estate agent, arrived at a residential neighborhood in Villarreal.

“Sir, I think this apartment suits you best—monthly rent is only 8,000 euros, and most importantly, the environment here is excellent; for athletes fatigued after matches, this apartment is perfect!”

The agent raved about the property, but Tang Ye was distracted.

The environment was good, and the space inside was large.

The only problem was that this apartment was far from the city center.

Villarreal itself isn’t large, yet even so, it takes a 20-minute drive from the training base to this apartment!

After chatting with the agent for over ten minutes, Tang Ye had no interest, so he made an excuse and returned directly to the base.

In the first-team locker room, A Lai and Rodrigo lay on the sofa, watching the friendly between Real Sociedad and Villarreal on a large screen.

The match was at the 34th minute—Villarreal led 1-0!

“Tang, we haven’t seen you all afternoon!”

Rodrigo ate his bowl of vegetables and avocado—his afternoon snack.

“I went to look at apartments.”

Tang Ye took a bottle of Coca-Cola from the fridge and sat on the sofa.

“Right, you’re supposed to rent an apartment outside.”

“Well, honestly, I don’t really want to live outside—no one told me Villarreal doesn’t have youth academy dorms.”

Tang Ye bit open the glass bottle with his teeth: “Wow, I feel Spanish Coke has less fizz.”

“Haha, when you were at Utrecht, didn’t you live in the youth dorms?”

Rodrigo set his bowl on the table and widened his eyes.

“You’ve only just met him—you’ll never guess what he might do.”

Before Tang Ye could speak, A Lai answered for him.

“Hey, Sebastián, don’t you think living in the dorms is convenient?”

After gulping down a large mouthful of Coke, Tang Ye felt his stomach was icy: “Wake up and eat, the training ground is right next to the cafeteria—damn, it’s so convenient.”

Tang Ye never had high demands for housing—he lived alone, and for him, a few hundred square meters was less comfortable than a small dorm room.

Everyone on the same floor were teammates—lively, and safe!

“If you like convenience, you can live with me—I live in the apartment right next to the base. Come on, Tang, hurry over.”

Rodrigo stood up from the sofa and both he and Tang Ye leaned against the locker room window, pointing at a tall building across: “See that building? That’s the apartment—rent is 3,500 euros a month.”

“Though for a player of your level, it might seem a bit modest.”

Rodrigo chuckled awkwardly.

He had lived in that building since his U19 days; besides him, many Villarreal U19 and B-team players also lived there.

Proximity was good, but for a player Villarreal had spent millions to sign, it was clearly inadequate.

At 3,500 euros monthly rent, Tang Ye’s weekly wage was 18,000 euros!

“But it’s close—step into the elevator, walk to the base, total time just five minutes.”

“Perfect—absolutely perfect!”

Tang Ye’s eyes sparkled.

Damn, this place was perfect!

“You’re sure?”

Tang Ye’s reaction surprised Rodrigo: “The apartment’s a bit small.”

“I live alone.”

“True—you can take the apartment across from mine; that guy moved out last week—he transferred to Atlético Madrid B.”

As Rodrigo finished speaking, A Lai suddenly shouted from the sofa.

“No!”

What happened?

They turned to the TV screen—Real Sociedad’s defender scored a long-range shot to equalize.

“Good shot.”

Tang Ye sat back on the sofa; Rodrigo sat right beside him: “How does the Eredivisie compare to La Liga in intensity?”

“Definitely—I watched La Liga before, Real Madrid vs. Atlético!”

“Uh, Tang, that was the Champions League, wasn’t it?”

“Same thing, same thing.”

Tang Ye waved his hand: “Anyway, La Liga’s pace is just faster.”

“So do you think you’ll get playing time?”

Rodrigo smiled, asking Tang Ye a serious question.

“Well…”

Tang Ye didn’t know how to answer; A Lai gave a thumbs-up: “You’ll definitely play!”

“Really?”

Tang Ye laughed—before the loan, Escrivà had clearly told him on the phone he couldn’t guarantee him playing time.

“It’s definitely true, Tang—don’t worry.”

Rodrigo placed his hand on Tang Ye’s shoulder: “We’re short on midfielders this season. Do you know why I was promoted from B-team?”

“Because you play well.”

“Uh… that’s only part of it.”

Rodrigo explained: “Several midfielders’ contracts expired and weren’t renewed; the rest couldn’t meet Ferrán’s standards—that’s why I was promoted.”

“Tang, you’re a pure attacking midfielder who can take set pieces—players like you are rare.”

“Nonono.”

Tang Ye shook his right index finger in front of Rodrigo: “Don’t underestimate my defense—I can tackle too. You know what tackling is—knocking someone to the ground—I’m good at it.”

?

“But… but Ferrán said you’re an attacking playmaker.”

“He’s a ball-winning midfielder.”

A Lai answered first.

Tang Ye turned his head, his expression filled with unspoken emotion.

Of course, Sebastián—you’re the only one who understands me!

…

On the evening of July 30, Manchester United defeated Turkish side Galatasaray 5-2 at Old Trafford.

As the team’s new head coach, Erik ten Hag gave a press interview.

British football journalists knew how to seize the spotlight—they immediately asked Ten Hag about summer transfers.

“Manchester United originally planned to buy Pogba from Juventus for over 100 million euros, but you halted the deal, Erik—what were your reasons?”

Ten Hag remained calm.

Why not Pogba?

Simple!

“Because I don’t consider Pogba part of my plans, so I didn’t allow the club to make the transfer.”

“I appreciate the board giving me a generous transfer budget, but I prefer to make transfers only when I’m certain.”

After winning the Eredivisie title, Ten Hag’s entire demeanor had elevated.

Manchester United now stood in the decline following the Ferguson era—they needed a savior.

Manchester United fans saw Ten Hag as their savior!

“Alright, could you answer a question about Tang?”

“Utrecht originally planned to sell Tang to Villarreal for around 20 million euros, but you turned it into a loan—why?”

The reporter handed the microphone to Ten Hag.

“I have feelings for Utrecht. Tang’s playing style is unique—he means something different to Utrecht.”

Ten Hag’s meaning was clear.

He intended for Tang Ye to return to Utrecht after one season at Villarreal.

Because Manchester United was spending heavily, Ten Hag couldn’t be Utrecht’s savior.

But he could help his old club before leaving.

“So are you saying Tang can’t adapt to La Liga?”

The reporter caught the key point: “Without your help, might Tang expose his most fatal flaw?”

“….”

Ten Hag sighed: “I won’t discuss tactics. My personal relationship with Tang is very good—I wish him luck.”

!!!

Ten Hag gave no direct answer about whether Tang Ye could survive in La Liga, but everyone had their suspicions.

Tang Ye’s playing style clashed completely with the entire La Liga.

The Chinese teenager stubbornly chased the top five leagues; Ten Hag wanted to save him, so he changed the transfer into a loan!

Ten Hag appeared to be helping his old club Utrecht.

He’s actually helping his favorite student!

……

Tang Ye didn’t know that Tenghahe had mentioned him in the interview; he only knew that today he would begin his first official training at Huang Qian!

“Beep!”

Head coach Escrivá blew his whistle and entered the pitch, accompanied by assistant coach Ma Di and fitness coach Kyle.

The players stood in a loose circle around Escrivá.

Escrivá looked left and right, then his gaze settled on Tang Ye.

Huh?

“I heard you were often late during training at Utrecht, but you’re on time today.”

“That was a long time ago.”

Tang Ye explained: “Since the second half of the season started, I haven’t been late anymore.”

“Haha, good, good, that’s best.”

Escrivá nodded: “At least I won’t have to waste time going to your house to drag you out.”

Tang Ye chewed his gum. Hearing Escrivá say these things, it was no surprise— Tenghahe must have said something to him!

“Alright, today’s training is complex. Kyle will lead your warm-up, then we’ll regroup.”

Beep!

Another whistle blew—this time it was Kyle, not Escrivá. The players began stretching in place.

“Hey, Tom!”

Someone beside him called Tang Ye’s name—it was the team’s striker Bakambu: “Ferran said you were always late at Utrecht. Is that true? Does the Eredivisie really have that strict rules?”

Bakambu looked surprised.

From what Tang Ye just said, he’d been late for nearly half a season at Utrecht.

And yet the head coach still let him start!

Is the Dutch league really that lax?

“Uh, not that bad—there were actually penalties.”

Tang Ye explained: “When I first got promoted to the first team, I was banned from the first-team cafeteria.”

“What?”

!

Bakambu froze. Trigueros, who overheard Tang Ye’s answer, froze too.

Rodri suddenly understood: “Tom, no wonder you can’t jump high—you couldn’t even eat in Utrecht?”

“Not that I couldn’t eat—I just couldn’t eat in the first-team cafeteria.”

Tang Ye tried to explain, but everyone only wanted to hear the sensational news.

Now Bakambu and Rodri’s minds were filled with images of Tenghahe denying Tang Ye food.

They could clearly picture it!

Seeing Bakambu still stunned, Tang Ye shrugged: “You don’t believe me? I really couldn’t get into the first-team cafeteria.”

“We don’t disbelieve that part—never mind. You don’t have to explain, Tang. I heard from Sergio you’re a midfielder, right? An attacking midfielder?”

When Bakambu said “attacking midfielder,” both he and Sancini’s expressions grew noticeably more serious.

As strikers, they knew full well how vital a midfielder was to the front line!

“Can you dribble past defenders?”

Seeing Tang Ye silent, Sancini pressed.

Tang Ye shook his head.

“What about ball progression? Carrying the ball forward from deep and then passing to the striker?”

Tang Ye shook his head again.

Ball progression was De Jong’s specialty.

That required too much speed, endurance, and perfect timing for acceleration—Tang Ye couldn’t do it.

“You can’t do that either…”

Sancini was left speechless by Tang Ye.

Dribbling past defenders and ball progression were basic skills for any midfielder.

Only by mastering these two could Tang Ye create chances to pass to the strikers.

In other words, if he couldn’t even do these two things, how could he possibly provide passing opportunities to the front line?

“Sebastian.”

Bakambu turned to Alá: “Then how do you score?”

“Uh…”

Alá scratched his nose, then chose what he thought was the most suitable answer: “I don’t know—I just end up scoring.”

Bakambu didn’t quite get Alá’s meaning—he still really wanted to ask this super scorer from Utrecht for advice.

But then he remembered Alá was still learning Spanish and couldn’t speak complex sentences yet, so he dropped it.

After the warm-up, training began. Escrivá’s habit was the same as Tenghahe ’s: start with small-sided possession games.

Pass within three touches. Must move while controlling the ball—no standing still.

Rules were a bit many, but easy enough to understand.

Tang Ye, as a midfielder, was placed in a group with Rodri, Bakambu, and Sancini.

Two players tried to steal, eight passed.

The sound of quick passes and players’ laughter filled the pitch.

At first it was fine, but when Escrivá demanded faster pace, Tang Ye began to struggle.

Escrivá required players to move while passing in a circle.

Moving sideways while passing and tracking the defenders’ positions was too much for Tang Ye, who’d never done this before.

Good thing Tang Ye already had the habit of scanning while passing—so for him, only movement was the problem.

Tang Ye tried to solve his issue by passing quickly, but immediately caught Escrivá’s attention: “Tom, new rule: you must pass within two to four touches. Today we’re training ball control, not your strengths.”

No choice—Tang Ye abandoned the idea of an immediate first-touch pass and began actively seeking possession.

It felt uncomfortable, but Tang Ye could clearly feel himself slowly adapting to this passing system.

【Ball Control: 75 → 76】

The training effect was better than Tang Ye expected—his Ball Control stat rose by one point!

“Pant… pant…”

The intensity was high. After just over ten minutes, players were breathing hard. Escrivá walked over to Tang Ye: “You okay?”

“Not really.”

Uh.

Escrivá clearly hadn’t expected this answer.

He pointed to group B still training: “La Liga is different from the Eredivisie. We need players with solid ball control, and you must learn to make runs when your teammates pass—that’s what we train here.”

Tang Ye chewed his gum. He said nothing.

In the past, Tang Ye had never felt this exhausted during training—but Escrivá had made him feel this way in just over ten minutes.

The difference between La Liga and Eredivisie training methods was even greater than he imagined!

“Faster, faster, move, move!”

Unlike the possession game, as soon as the scrimmage began, Escrivá’s voice rose sharply—he shouted immediately whenever a player made a mistake.

“Tom, move! Come on, are you a pig? Don’t pass now—you’re too eager!”

In the first ten minutes of the scrimmage, Tang Ye lost possession four times—Escrivá’s head was spinning.

“Pass, pass! Don’t always think about linking up with the striker—your partner is the midfielder! Watch the fullbacks!”

Taking Escrivá’s advice, Tang Ye passed to Rodri, who made a run down the right flank—but they weren’t on the same page.

Rodri ran right past him.

The ball was intercepted by team B, and Alá finished the goal.

“Mine, mine!”

Tang Ye immediately raised his hand to apologize.

Damn!

Escrivá angrily threw his hands up—Tang Ye’s play left him speechless on the sideline.

The match continued. Team A, on offense, attacked team B. Tang Ye and Rodri made a few simple combinations.

Tang Ye was clearly adapting—he was playing much better than before.

Rodri dribbled toward Tang Ye, who moved forward at the same time.

Without the ball, he looked up and noticed Bakambu in space ahead.

At that moment, Tang Ye made a small move.

He stole a glance at Escrivá on the sideline.

Escrivá: ?

Escrivá said nothing.

Got it!

Tang Ye smiled and reached out for the ball from Luo De.

The ball rolled toward him at an angle; Tang Ye seized the opportunity and struck it forward with his right foot.

Thud!

【De Bruyne Curved Through Pass Lv3: Simulation】

Proficiency: 313/400

???

“You fucking just lost it again…”

Tang Ye’s pass was expected to send the ball flying out of sight, but instead it rolled gently past several B-team defenders.

It suddenly slowed and reached Bakambu’s feet!

!!!

Thud!

A powerful shot smashed into the net.

Tang the King lost possession; the ball entered the opponent’s half.

Bakambu did not turn or signal to Tang Ye—he stood motionless in B-team’s penalty area.

He was thinking.

Thinking about a question he had not yet considered.

That was A Lei’s words.

He didn’t know how he scored, but somehow, he always scored.

Understood!

Bakambu understood!

He knew what A Lei meant!

…

(End of Chapter)