Chapter 68: Meng

Dongqiudi — Germany’s transfer market releases new valuations for Eredivisie players and some Eerste Divisie players; rookie overseas talent Tang Ye creates history with a €4 million valuation!

Originally, Dongqiudi was flooded with fans denouncing Ten Hag’s outrageous remarks, but the moment the transfer market news dropped, all attention immediately shifted to Tang Ye.

Respecting one’s teacher is a traditional Chinese virtue; Tang Ye resolved Ten Hag’s dilemma by updating his Transfermarkt valuation.

【What? Up by how much?】

【Dude, yesterday we still thought of you as a brother, and now you’re suddenly worth €4 million?】

【Turns out Germans have bad eyesight】

【You over there can just bark all you want — clearly you’ve never seen the greatness of my King Tang; my King Tang drops one long pass and shatters your eyes】

【Reborn King: My Valuation Depends Entirely on Meng】

【Wait, €4 million? Is there really someone willing to spend €4 million on Meng? Can Man United take a look? I feel they’re missing a top-class midfielder like me!】

【Germans are still too conservative!】

Fans were baffled by Tang Ye’s valuation.

Not to mention his age of sixteen — the main point is that no Chinese male footballer has ever reached a €4 million valuation before.

In short, Tang Ye’s valuation from just this half-season is now the highest in all of China.

But soon, fans dug up Tang Ye’s match statistics.

Since becoming a starter, Tang Ye has recorded at least one goal or assist in every match.

Looking at it this way… €4 million is actually quite reasonable.

Maybe even a bit conservative?

Fans didn’t know, since they hadn’t participated in evaluating Tang Ye’s valuation.

Fans only knew: their Meng had risen!

…

On December 22, the first-team players held their final training session before Christmas.

Tang Ye arrived at the training ground wearing a thick down jacket.

Today he wasn’t late — or rather, he hadn’t been late recently.

This was because Ten Hag had spoken with the facility staff: every morning at 8 a.m., the heating in Tang Ye’s dorm would automatically shut off.

His alarm went off at 8:30, but thanks to the brutally cold Dutch winter, Tang Ye always woke up before it rang.

“Wowow, so cold, so cold, hey, Bart!”

Tang Ye spotted Ramselaar walking into the training ground and rushed over; Ramselaar, seeing him, started clapping for no reason.

“What are you doing, Bart?”

Tang Ye walked over and pointed to the indoor training field beside the gym: “Bart, could you suggest to Mr. Eric that we train indoors? It’s freezing out here.”

“Oh, he won’t agree.”

Ramselaar shook his head: “We have winter matches — do you know what Eric would say?”

“Players with ability adapt to the environment themselves!”

Ramselaar imitated Ten Hag’s tone.

“Then there’s nothing we can do.”

Just as they mentioned Ten Hag, he walked over.

Tang Ye was clever — training hadn’t started yet, so he deliberately strolled around in front of Ten Hag.

I don’t want you to know I was late before, but I’ve been arriving early lately.

You’d better remember that!

Watching Tang Ye stroll in front of him, Ten Hag was speechless: “Pigs usually wake up late in winter — you’re an exception.”

“The pigsty at Montford has heating.”

!!!

“That’s just an exception — Mrs. Martha’s pigsty has no heating.”

Ten Hag sized Tang Ye up and down: “Tang, I know what you’re trying to say. If you arrive early every day for the next two weeks, your dorm heating won’t malfunction again.”

“...”

Tang Ye ran off immediately.

“Hey, Tang!”

“Little star, haha!”

“Wow, little star!”

Aside from Jansen, who was sick and skipped training, the first-team players gradually arrived at the training ground.

For some reason, as soon as they got there, they all went straight to Tang Ye.

“What’s going on?”

Tang Ye turned to Amrabat: “I got here early yesterday too — why are you so surprised?”

“Wow, you don’t know?”

Ten Hag walked over upon hearing Tang Ye’s words and realized Tang had no idea what had happened: “Aren’t you always online? Playing your FIFA?”

“Did some player get upgraded?”

“Nonono!”

Ten Hag shook his head; Ramselaar walked over, pulled out his phone, and showed the news to Tang Ye.

Transfermarkt: latest Eredivisie player valuations, Utrecht.

“Aale €4.5 million, damn, Aale’s value went up — and Bart...”

“€3 million! Wow, you’re up too, Sofyan, let me see yours...”

Tang Ye scrolled down the phone screen and soon saw Amrabat’s name.

“Damn, Sofyan, how’d you get to €2 million so fast?”

Tang Ye had been about to look up at Amrabat, but then he saw his own name behind him.

yetang (u17) — €4m, ↑€4m

“Uh...”

Tang Ye handed the phone back to Ramselaar and pointed at himself: “€4 million? Me?”

“You’re the only U17 in the entire Eredivisie — who else could it be, you idiot?”

Ten Hag burst out laughing: “€4 million — in just fifteen weeks of training, from zero to €4 million. Tang, you must admit: our first-team training system is the most advanced.”

Placing a hand on Tang Ye’s shoulder, Ten Hag continued: “I told you — follow me, and you’ll embrace the future.”

“...”

Tang Ye said nothing, then suddenly remembered something: “Wait!”

“What?”

Ten Hag asked, as Tang Ye suddenly dashed to the sideline and picked up his phone from the chair.

Then he looked up and asked Ten Hag a question: “Why did Transfermarkt update my valuation, but my FIFA stats haven’t changed at all?”

As Tang Ye said, his player card still showed only 58 points.

Tang Ye dared not put himself in his lineup while playing.

He was afraid he’d ruin his own game!

“...”

“Huh...”

Ten Hag exhaled deeply and turned to the other first-team players: “Let’s ignore him — that kind of player’s future is dark. Bart, Aale, lead everyone through some simple dynamic warm-ups; then we can start stretching.”

December 25 was Christmas — it meant nothing to Tang Ye; his plan was to return to China on December 29, rest for a few days, then fly back.

This would not only renew his visa but also let him celebrate the New Year with his family. As for training...

Since the team officially stopped training on the 23rd, Tang Ye’s skill proficiencies had remained unchanged.

In the days before returning home, Tang Ye had been playing with Zakaria and teammates from the reserve team, U17, and U19.

They were all non-Dutch players; though they celebrated Christmas, since their families weren’t here, they could only gather together with teammates to mark the holiday.

“Nice, haha!”

On Christmas Eve, in a small house in Montford, Tang Ye jumped onto the sofa.

His phone displayed the score.

3:2 — Tang Ye scored the last-minute winner against Zakaria!

“Isaac, I told you — you’ve been unable to beat me for a while now.”

“It was luck! I told you, it was luck!”

Zakaria spread his hands: “I thought the match was over — damn, I should’ve let you score in the final minute!”

!

“Lost is lost.”

Two U19 players lay on the sofa laughing — the weakest player, Tang Ye, had inexplicably become unstoppable and crushed everyone present.

“I told you — I’m great at gaming.”

Tang Ye sat back on the sofa, pointing his phone at Isaac: “You used to beat me because I was just starting out — now you get it? I only need one Hazard to shred your entire defense!”

“But you’re a midfielder — you should play possession football!”

Zakaria spread his hands.

When players play FIFA, they’re easily influenced by their on-field positions, so Tang Ye didn’t control any midfielders at all—he just let the forwards run around the pitch.

“I play midfield, but in the game I’m a striker—no conflict. The fact is, you lost!”

“Woww!”

The players on site began to mock, imitating Tang Ye’s tone to Zaka, and soon broke Zaka’s composure: “Eat! Eat! It’s Christmas Eve—we should be eating!”

Soon, the fifteen players staying in the Netherlands for Christmas gathered together, clasped their hands, and prayed to God for their wishes.

A few days ago, Messi, the star of Real Madrid and Barcelona, had just won this year’s Ballon d’Or, so the young players’ dreams naturally revolved around this crucial prize.

Zaka took a deep breath: “I want to become the King of Football, win the Ballon d’Or, and then… uh, date a lot of supermodels!”

“Fuck, you can drop that last line.”

“Isaac, what’s in your head? Hahaha!”

“Come on, that’s totally normal.”

Zaka pulled his hands back and looked at Tang Ye sitting to his right: “Tang, you should make a wish too—tell God your wish, and your chance of achieving it will grow a lot.”

“Ah, me?”

Tang Ye scratched his head: “But I don’t think Jesus has any authority over me.”

“Hey, no problem—God is very forgiving. Just say your dream out loud. Go on, how many Ballon d’Ors do you want?”

“Uh…”

Tang Ye bit his fingernail, thought briefly, then said: “Seven or eight should be about right?”

“Hahahahaha!”

“Fuck, okay okay okay, Tang, even God himself couldn’t fulfill that wish. We didn’t ask you to make something like this—pick another wish!”

Oh oh!

Tang Ye nodded, then fell still again.

“Come on!”

Zaka clapped his hands: “What do you want? Think about what you truly desire!”

“I don’t seem to want anything special…”

Tang Ye was stuck.

He couldn’t wish that he’d never get caught skipping training by Ten Hag, could he?

Or… maybe ask the holy God Jesus to punish that damn Ten Hag?

“You must want something—think about yourself, think about your team!”

The teammates at the table reminded him.

Okay…

Tang Ye took a deep breath: “I want to win the Eredivisie title with my teammates—that silver shield.”

Zaka gave Tang Ye a side-eye: “You refused to wish for anything, yet you’re the greediest of all, Tang. Utrecht’s Eredivisie titles are exactly as many as your Ballon d’Ors.”

“Why say that?”

“Because so far, both numbers are zero.”

Uh…

…

For the next few days, Tang Ye stayed at the base, waiting for his flight back to China.

But things didn’t unfold as Tang Ye expected—on the afternoon of the 27th, he inexplicably received a call from his agent, Pohl.

“Feyenoord’s coach asked me for your number—he wants to talk to you.”

Pohl briefly explained: Feyenoord’s coach had contacted him through their staff, inquiring about Tang Ye’s buyout clause.

After learning Tang Ye’s buyout clause was 200,000 euros, Feyenoord’s coach said they intended to pay it to forcibly terminate Tang Ye’s contract with Utrecht.

Now, Feyenoord’s coach was reaching out to Tang Ye directly to hear his own thoughts.

If Tang Ye agreed, Feyenoord could push this transfer during the winter window!

…

During Christmas, Ten Hag hosted a party at his home in the Netherlands, inviting all first-team players—including Zaka and other second-team players who had been training with Tang Ye in the evenings.

“Hey, Isaac!”

Ten Hag immediately spotted Zaka and walked over: “Where’s Tang? Aren’t you two always together?”

Zaka shook his head: “Mr. Eric, Tang asked me to pass along his apologies—he has something today and won’t be able to come.”

“What? You’re sure? He’s not coming?”

Upon hearing the news, Ten Hag was furious. He told Van der Gaag beside him: “He’s become so lazy he won’t even show up for a party! Damn it—I bought gifts for the players, and now I can’t give them to him!”

In truth, Ten Hag wasn’t as bad-tempered as he seemed, but this time, Tang Ye’s absence truly enraged him.

Because he’d bought Tang Ye a game controller!

The latest model!

“Can you imagine? You spend time picking out a gift for your player, and that player is a pig—he has no idea how hard you worked to choose it!”

“Sigh…”

Van der Gaag sighed: “It’s just a party, not training—I thought he’d come. I don’t know why…”

“But he didn’t come!”

Ten Hag cut him off: “You know what? He’s gotten swollen with pride. Thinks his 4-million-euro valuation makes him the biggest star on the team.”

“Damn thing—I didn’t act this arrogant when I won Monthly Best Coach! He’s inflated like a balloon!”

Ten Hag flung his hand out, then clenched his fist.

When training resumes, he’ll give that lazy pig a proper beating!

“Eric, don’t get angry yet—Tang must have a reason.”

Van der Gaag advised. Ten Hag thought it made sense, so he asked Zaka: “Did he say where he was going?”

“He said he’s meeting a friend in Montfoort—it just happened to be today, so he couldn’t make the party.”

Meeting a friend?

Ten Hag frowned. “Does he have any other friends in the Netherlands besides his teammates?”

Ten Hag suddenly lifted his head.

“Shit!”

…

(End of Chapter)