Chapter 174: 225th Update: Both Nominated for Monthly Honor

The draw ceremony venue.

The Europa League draw had not yet officially begun; Escrivà and Ten Hag had been chatting for over twenty minutes.

They spoke in low voices; no one at the venue knew what they were talking about.

But it was clear the Spaniard and the Dutchman were enjoying their conversation immensely.

"Haha."

Ten Hag patted Escrivà on the shoulder: "The draw's about to start, Ferran. We won't get drawn against each other, right?"

"Haha."

Escrivà feigned calm: "No problem. If we meet, we meet. It's been a while since we faced a Premier League team."

"Then let's meet!"

Since Escrivà said that, Ten Hag naturally didn't hold back.

At that moment, the draw guests walked up from the audience.

The draw was about to begin!

Ssshh—

Escrivà ended his conversation with Ten Hag and fixed his eyes on the transparent bowl-shaped containers onstage.

He adjusted his inner excitement, clasping his hands together.

Don't draw Manchester United!

Don't draw Manchester United!

Please!

Suddenly noticing Ten Hag's right foot trembling, Escrivà turned to look—and saw Ten Hag had also clasped his hands together.

What?

"Huh?"

Escrivà looked puzzled. Seeing someone watching him, Ten Hag gave an awkward smile and quickly pulled his hands back into his pockets.

"W-what's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing."

…

"What are Ferran and Eric talking about?"

Bruno was curious; all the Villarreal players around the sofa turned their gazes toward Tang Ye.

Tang Ye spread his hands, looking innocent: "Don't look at me—it has nothing to do with me."

Escrivà just can't sit still and wants to chat—what's that got to do with Tang Ye?

"Alright."

Bruno narrowed his eyes; the players turned their attention back to the TV.

Before the draw began, the host briefly introduced the 32 teams participating in this knockout stage.

When they saw Ajax's familiar old crest, Tang Ye suddenly remembered something and turned to Ale, sitting beside him: "Sebastian, it's Ajax."

"Yeah, what of it?"

"This…"

Tang Ye hesitated, unsure whether he should voice what he was thinking.

"Don't worry, Tom. Just say it—there are no reporters here."

Ale signaled Tang Ye not to feel pressured; the latter took a deep breath: "Eric can't return to the Netherlands right now, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Then what if Manchester United draw Ajax? What will he do?"

???

!!!

Good question!

All the Villarreal players around suddenly understood.

Right!

Holy shit, Ten Hag got a three-year-two-month ban—he'll be arrested the moment he sets foot in the Netherlands.

If Manchester United draw Ajax, how are they supposed to play the away match?

"But it doesn't matter."

Tang Ye remained calm.

If Manchester United play a Dutch team and their head coach can't be on the sideline, that's none of Tang Ye's concern.

What matters is Villarreal's own draw.

Compared to the Champions League draw, the two guests for the Europa League draw moved much faster and quickly pulled out "VCF," representing Villarreal.

Then came Villarreal's opponent.

Roma.

…

Dongqiu Di top post: Champions League draw results—Arsenal face Bayern in the Round of 16; Premier League champions Leicester City face Sevilla; Juventus vs Porto.

Dongqiu Di top post: Europa League draw results—Villarreal face Roma in the Round of 32; Manchester United face Athletic Bilbao in a clash of titans!

After the draw, Escrivà invited Ten Hag to dinner, then hurried back to base the next day.

Because of the draw, Escrivà gathered the players for a meeting.

"To be honest, I'm under some pressure with this draw result."

In the gym, the players surrounded Escrivà as the Villarreal head coach outlined the upcoming league and Europa League fixtures.

Villarreal's draw was awkward.

First, they didn't get Tottenham or Manchester United—acceptable.

But!

Roma is absurdly strong!

Before the draw, Escrivà had checked the league standings of several threatening teams.

Roma had performed exceptionally well in this season's Serie A, proving their players were in near-perfect form.

For Villarreal, Roma was undoubtedly a very difficult opponent.

Tang Ye sat on the floor directly in front of Escrivà, his expression grim.

Though he'd never played against Roma, from his teammates' reactions and the coach's words, he could tell Villarreal's Europa League Round of 32 match would be extremely tough.

"But the good news is the match won't start until next February, so let's not rush."

Escrivà briefly calmed the players' nerves and made his position clear.

Put the Europa League knockout tie aside for now.

Focus on the upcoming league!

And the King's Cup!

Villarreal's next King's Cup match is about to begin!

Round of 16 second leg—face Toledo again!

When Escrivà mentioned the King's Cup, Tang Ye, sitting on the floor before him, suddenly grew tense.

The last King's Cup match was on December 1st—the first leg away against Toledo—where Tang Ye had sat the entire match on the bench.

Though sitting out was easy, after a year of consecutive starts, Tang Ye had grown impatient with the bench.

For him now, sitting on the bench for two hours was agony.

Worst of all, that damn Ferran wouldn't let him sleep on the bench!

Escrivà noticed Tang Ye's expression change—he knew exactly what the guy on the floor was thinking.

So he kicked Tang Ye's foot: "Tom, you're starting next game. Go out there and give it your all!"

Even though the opponent was weak, Escrivà would still field his full-strength lineup.

Because Christmas break was coming—after Toledo, Villarreal's next match was fifteen days away.

Players who didn't play against Toledo would get a full twenty-day rest.

Escrivà needed to ensure his players remained in peak competitive condition, so everyone in the starting XI had to play in this match before Christmas!

"Ferran…"

Ma Di nudged Escrivà's arm; the coach turned his head.

"This is a special case—you know it is, it's a special case. Christmas is coming."

Christmas only comes once a year.

That was indeed a special case.

And a special case within a special case!

…

Time moved to match day. The game kicked off at 7 p. m., but the Villarreal players arrived at the stadium at 2:30 p. m.

With plenty of time, Escrivà gave the players a chance to sign autographs for fans waiting around the pitch.

"Okay okay, no problem, wait a sec, wait a sec!"

Tang Ye hadn't expected to be this popular—the 20+ first-team Villarreal players stood behind the security line.

Tang Ye had hidden himself at the very edge, yet the people asking him for autographs were by far the most.

"Come on, Tom!"

As fans reached out, desperately trying to touch Tang Ye's head, he heard that familiar question again.

"Tom, will you stay at Villarreal next season? Can you stay?"

"Tom, stay!"

Tang Ye was caught off guard by the questions; he could only gesture for the fans to calm down, then lowered his head and signed autographs.

He didn't know how to answer, so he wanted to avoid it.

He signaled for the next fan to hand over a jersey—but instead of a jersey, he saw a blue notebook.

What the hell?

Tang Ye knew exactly what it was—it was his own math homework notebook!

But he'd already turned in his homework; this wasn't his.

Following the arm holding the notebook, he saw a fan standing right in front of him, barely older than himself, wearing Villarreal's 2011–12 home jersey—clearly a diehard supporter.

"Open it!"

At the young fan's suggestion, Tang Ye held his pen and flipped open the math notebook.

"Flip-flip-flip"—pages turned rapidly.

The first glance shocked him—but this was only the beginning.

Every page of the notebook was filled with clear, neat Spanish handwriting.

Just by the script alone, you'd know every answer was absolutely correct!

Damn…

"This…"

Tang Ye pointed at the notebook, confused by the fan's intent.

"Tom, stay at Villarreal. I'll do your homework from now on—don't worry about it. I'm studying at Valencia Polytechnic University; I can show you my student ID."

The young fan moved to take off his backpack to pull out his math department student ID for Tang Ye.

"… "

Holding the notebook, Tang Ye stood there utterly stunned, speechless.

He glanced at Bruno beside him—the captain of Huang Qian was barely holding back his laughter.

"Thank you! Thank you!"

Tang Ye wrote a massive signature on the notebook's cover, then added "Gracias" in Spanish before returning it to the fan.

As he walked slowly toward the back entrance of the stadium, Tang Ye remained silent.

To be honest—he was truly moved.

A pure fan!

Villarreal deserves such a pure fan!

…

Though the opponent was weak, Escrivá still gave it serious attention, spending a full half-hour before the match explaining tactics.

Tang Ye stared down at the wrapper of his gum, lost in thought.

This was his first Copa del Rey match.

He was already looking forward to it!

"Brothers! I'm here!"

Wang Chao shouted in his livestream.

The long-awaited Copa del Rey!

CCTV held the broadcast rights for La Liga, and after Tang Ye's loan to Huang Qian, they even splurged on partial Europa League rights.

There was no point competing with Huanledou for traffic—Wang Chao's stream wouldn't get new viewers.

But now, the Copa del Rey was his chance!

In China, there were no official broadcast rights for the Copa del Rey; fans had to watch Tang Ye's games on pirated sites.

Notably, pirated sites usually had terrible video quality.

Fans had to concentrate hard and keep their eyes sharp!

Otherwise, if you missed my King Tang's brilliant moves, that'd be terrible!

【Oh? Is this the GOAT Tang Ye you guys keep talking about? He assists or scores every match—I thought he played basketball, turns out it's soccer…】

【Wait, he scores or assists every single soccer match???】

【You think not? Why else is he GOAT?】

【Many are watching soccer for the first time—let me introduce my King Tang: Tang Ye = Ronaldo + Messi. If you don't know his level, use this as reference.】

【He's already surpassed them—right now, even Ronaldo and Messi combined can't touch him on La Liga's assist chart. There's still a huge gap between them and the real GOAT.】

【Forget La Liga—this is the Copa del Rey now!】

The chat exploded, but the match had already started.

The camera panned to substitute bench where head coach Escrivá sat—his expression looked apologetic.

The opponent was Toledo, a weak side from Segunda División B, and today's match was again at the Estadio de la Cerámica.

Plus, Huang Qian trailed from the first-leg result.

With all three buffs stacked, Escrivá couldn't find a single reason to be nervous.

Press them!

Must press them!

"Villarreal!"

"Villarreal!"

The stands remained as lively as ever—though the opponent was weak, this match was still quite entertaining.

This was Huang Qian's final match before Christmas.

If they won, they'd become the only one of La Liga's 20 teams to win every match in December! Right now, Huang Qian's chances of achieving this looked very high!

Because by the 15th minute, Huang Qian's possession had already reached nearly 70%!

No joke—they were truly dominating!

"I'm coming! I'm coming!"

Tang Ye sprinted back as Rodri passed the ball forward.

Behind him, Delerma closed in tight; Tang Ye planted his right foot, then with his left foot's first touch, flicked the ball to Costa on the left flank.

"Wow!"

Costa surged forward with the ball!

Tang Ye sprinted ahead too!

"Costa's speed is incredible!"

"Director, give Tang Ye the camera!"

"Give Tang Ye the camera, damn it, if you don't give Tang Ye the camera I'll—"

"Can't you even tell when he'll touch the ball? Tang Ye's about to get it!"

!

Wang Chao had just cursed the director's entire family when Costa, cutting to the byline, delivered a through ball to Sansone at the front.

Sansone dribbled slightly into the box with his outside foot; seeing Tang Ye running toward him, he deliberately slowed down.

He'd helped Tang Ye with homework—he knew exactly what the guy wanted just by his run!

As the defender relaxed, Sansone suddenly accelerated!

!!

The Toledo fullback rushed into the box to follow Sansone.

He couldn't let Sansone deliver a cross from that position!

Sansone swung his right leg!

Flicked the ball behind him!

Straight to Tang Ye's feet!

Echaid saw Tang Ye about to control the ball and rushed forward.

He was close—this was the perfect moment to press and win the ball.

But Tang Ye didn't follow the script—he moved forward Zhudong.

Didn't even stop the ball; he slammed it with his left foot into the box!

Thud!

【De Bruyne low cross Lv3: Simulation】

Proficiency: 17.5/400

【De Bruyne 45-degree cross Lv4: Realistic】

Proficiency: 98.5/500

This wasn't a low cross, nor a 45-degree cross—but it could raise proficiency in both skills.

This was GGBond's signature 22.5-degree cross!

Into the box!

"I got it!"

Ale roared and claimed possession of the ball.

He squeezed into the box and jumped.

Then…

Headed it straight!

Thud!

"Goal!"

"Incredible—perfect goal buildup!"

"Tang Ye's 45-degree cross found Ale perfectly in the box!"

"Too bad it wasn't from the left—otherwise it would've mirrored their old combo from Utrecht!"

"But today's director is definitely unprofessional—Tang Ye's movement was impossible to track, and in a situation like this, you should've cut to him immediately!"

Wang Chao delivered a harsh critique of the director's professionalism in this match.

If anyone who understood Tang Ye had controlled the camera (like Wang Chao), viewers would've seen the full sequence of Tang Ye moving behind Sancosse.

Just as Wang Chao had said early in the match.

"Tang the King's perfect run!"

After the goal, Huang Qian's players quickly celebrated down the left flank.

Coach Escrivá raised both hands in triumph the moment the goal went in—and…

And that was it.

Only such a simple celebration could reflect Escrivá's calmness facing today's match.

Toledo's coach Sánchez was starting to panic.

From his perspective as the weaker side, Escrivá seemed to control everything!

What Sánchez didn't know was that Escrivá, while watching that man, felt exactly the same way.

Such terrifying power!

34th minute!

Huang Qian's possession rate had reached 72%!

And it was still rising!

Toledo tried to target Tang Ye—but had no answer.

Escrivá had adjusted the team's tactics; Tang Ye's ball retention in non-attacking phases was minimal.

If Toledo couldn't even steal the ball from Ggbond's feet, how could they possibly take it from any other Huang Qian player?!

Thud!

Pato delivered a cross from the right flank.

Ale ran into the box, preparing to head it.

"Give it to me!"

Tang Ye shouted from behind.

!

Ale forcibly suppressed the urge to shoot directly and headed the ball straight to Tang Ye's feet.

Snap!

The ball bounced off the ground.

Okay—this is Tom's chance!

Tang Ye sprinted forward!

Turned his body right!

Swung his left thigh!

Direct volley!

Kylian Mbappé's overhead strike!

And it was the mirror image!

Snap!

A crisp sound—but the ball flew at incredible speed, slipping past the arms of Toledo's center-back and full-back.

Into the net!

"Tang Ye!"

"Overhead strike!"

"Holy shit!"

"Boom boom boom!"

Wang Chao's furious pounding on his mechanical keyboard echoed through the livestream.

Wang Chao's mechanical keyboards were usually expensive, but honestly, he didn't care about the cost.

"Football Urea, get your ass out here!"

"Look at what this is!"

He sat back in his chair and pointed at the livestream camera: "Football Urea, if you're watching me right now, I'll fucking kill you!"

Bilibili's football UP owners had gained massive traffic by bashing Tang Ye—something that made Wang Chao furious.

What level do you even have to dare bash Tang the King?

Don't you know I, Super, bought my Porsche thanks to Tang the King's help?

"Tommmm!!!"

Tang Ye's overhead strike ignited the Canción Stadium.

Damn…

Escrivá, who had been utterly calm, now clutched his head with both hands.

I told you to just dominate them.

You had to go for the flashy move, didn't you…

But hey!

That goal was a little bit cool!

Escrivá wore a brilliant smile.

His tactical setup was indeed excellent—otherwise Tang Ye wouldn't have had the chance to score such a stylish goal.

45+1 minute!

"The first half is about to end!"

"Any last chance for this attack!"

"Director, give us the shot!"

"Director, what are you doing? I can't see Tang Ye!"

"Okay okay, got it, guys!"

"Tang Ye's moving slow, so the camera…"

"No—the director should've held the shot longer; Tang Ye would've been conserving energy, so he'd naturally jog up slowly."

Wang Chao and the livestream fans quickly analyzed Tang Ye's movement: just then, Tang Ye received a pass from Rodri, circled half a turn on the right flank, then accelerated toward the baseline.

Seeing no one chasing him, he cut back toward the center.

He glanced into the box.

The distance was still a bit far, but Tang Ye saw an opportunity.

As a pure attacking midfielder, he didn't care much about holding the ball.

Just shoot!

Thud!

【De Bruyne far-angle curler Lv. 4: Realistic】

Proficiency: 55/400

Because of the distance and good angle, this shot boosted his proficiency by 3 points.

The ball flew over the defenders at the edge of the box toward the back post!

Wow!

Tang Ye stood still, holding his breath.

This has a chance!

It's in the corner!

Duang!

The ball struck the left post and bounced out, cleared by a Toledo defender.

Damn!

So close!

The first half ended 2-0.

Under this advantage, Escrivá substituted both Tang Ye and Bruno, leaving only the workhorse Rodri on the pitch to link defense and attack.

At 20, Rodri had the talent to start—but his defensive movement always lacked a little.

The full match ended with Huang Qian defeating Toledo 2-1.

"Alright, guys!"

"Although Escrivá took Tang Ye off at halftime, it was still quite an exciting match."

Whenever Escrivá was mentioned, Wang Chao got angry.

In the first half, his livestream had over 130,000 viewers.

But after Tang Ye was subbed off in the second half, within three minutes the livestream dropped to under 30,000 viewers.

Everyone fucking left!

A bunch of fake fans!

Fake fans who only care about watching my King Tang perform, not the game itself!

……

Front-page headline of Villarreal Times: Victory in their final match before Christmas sends Villarreal into the Copa del Rey quarterfinals, making them the only La Liga team to win all their matches in December.

La Liga official December Player of the Month shortlist:

1. Messi (Barcelona)

2. Sandro Ramírez (Málaga)

3. Tang Ye (Villarreal)

4. Morata (Real Madrid)

5. Casemiro (Real Madrid)

【Holy shit, Tang Ye's right in the middle—is this what a king gets?】

【It's random order, bro】

【And the coach—look at the coach! Escrivá's been carried straight to the top by my King Tang!】

December Coach of the Month shortlist:

1. Escrivá (Villarreal)

2. Enrique (Barcelona)

!!!

This is absolutely, absolutely good news for Tang Ye's fans and Huang Qian supporters.

King Tang and Coach Escrivá are both on the monthly best candidate list!

Of course, these news items are limited to La Liga only.

Now, news that will shake the global football world is coming.

Front-page headline of France Football, all text bolded: The 2016 Ballon d'Or winner is Portuguese superstar Cristiano Ronaldo.

Ronaldo defeated Messi and Griezmann by a wide margin to win this year's Ballon d'Or, marking his fourth career Ballon d'Or trophy.

After the match, the Villarreal players talked about this topic for a long, long time in the locker room.

"Last Christmas, I made a wish for the Ballon d'Or,"

Tang Ye suddenly said.

"You wished for the Ballon d'Or? Haha! Typical, typical."

Bruno acknowledged Tang Ye's boldness: "So which year's Ballon d'Or did you wish for?"

Tang Ye rubbed the back of his head: "I can't remember the exact details, but I didn't specify a year—I wished for multiple Ballon d'Ors…"

"Hahaha, multiple? Damn, Tom, you're too arrogant!"

"Wow! Tom's amazing!"

The Villarreal players started teasing him; Bruno asked again: "So how many Ballon d'Ors did you wish for, haha?"

"Uh, I just can't remember clearly."

Tang Ye only remembered eating with the reserve team in the living room on Christmas Eve.

He remembered exactly what dishes were on the table, and the happy smiles of his friends.

But he couldn't recall what he himself had said.

How many Ballon d'Ors…?

……

(End of Chapter)