Chapter 71: I Should Have Developed Like This! (20k words, request monthly votes!)

“Tang, you passed me the ball in that situation!”

On the bus returning to base, Barazite leaned forward over the seat in front, his eyes shining as he stared at Tang Ye before him.

At the moment of the match, Tang Ye was already extremely close to the small penalty area, directly facing the goalkeeper.

Even with a 60-point shot in that situation, he could have scored, but Tang Ye still chose to pass—that’s why Barazite was so moved.

“Tang, you shouldn’t have passed to him!”

Aale placed his hand on Barazite’s head: “This guy’s so moved right now. Hey, Nasser, you’re not gonna cry, are you?”

Barazite quickly swatted Aale’s hand away: “No no, impossible! I just can’t believe it—why would someone pass in that moment!”

He turned to look at Tang Ye: “So what were you thinking then?”

“Uh, is that important?”

Tang Ye felt awkward under Barazite’s intense gaze.

“Of course it’s important! This is about scoring—everything related to scoring matters!”

As a striker, Barazite had a special obsession with goals.

“Uh, I just felt like passing, so I passed.”

Tang Ye rubbed his nose: “Before I got to that position, I already saw you on the right, so I passed to you—doesn’t that make sense?”

“Is that really it?”

Barazite blinked: “So you passed to me just because it made sense?”

“Enough already!”

Aale yanked Barazite down and warned Tang Ye: “Tang, remember—don’t pass to him ever again. Pass to me instead.”

“But I won’t get so moved I cry, Nasser—don’t you think I’m right?”

“Alright, alright!”

Ten Hag suddenly stood up from the front seat, interrupting the noisy Utrecht players: “You’re this excited over one win? The season’s nearly over—real challenges are coming!”

He checked his phone’s league table: “We’re still top of the table, but I feel the threat—coming from behind. PSV and Ajax have been winning consistently—you should all feel that pressure!”

“But we only need top four—what if PSV and Ajax overtake us?”

Tang Ye suddenly spoke up.

“Nonsense!”

Ten Hag immediately rebutted: “You’re Chinese—you should be the most risk-aware! If we give up first place now, what if we mess up and miss top four?”

Okay.

But…

Tang Ye pulled out his phone and checked the league table.

They were already eight points ahead of fourth place!

Was it really that dangerous?

…

The next day, training resumed as the team welcomed their winter transfer signing, Frenkie de Jong.

Ten Hag pushed de Jong forward: “This is our new backup central midfielder, Frenkie.”

In a professional club, every player’s role as starter or substitute must be clear, so Ten Hag explicitly stated de Jong’s backup status.

De Jong had no objection—he’d been a backup at Ajax too, and an unused one at that.

He agreed to transfer to Utrecht because he believed his chances of starting here were greater than at Ajax.

“By the way, is everyone here?”

Ten Hag suddenly remembered something and glanced at the players: “Uh, one’s missing—but no matter, let me introduce Frenkie first.”

“One missing? We can wait—he’s coming to training today, right?”

Good question.

Ten Hag glanced at his watch and, based on experience, declared: “He’s probably still in bed.”

“Is he injured?”

De Jong nodded.

“Not injured—the dorm heating’s too good. Damn it, I knew this would happen!”

Ten Hag now regretted it.

During Christmas Eve, he’d been too emotional and decided to restore the heating in Tang Ye’s room.

Could he really restore the heating in Tang Ye’s room?

Absolutely not!

With constant warmth in the morning, Tang Ye would be late 200 percent!

Ten Hag sent Fan De to fetch him from the dorm. De Jong looked bewildered and asked: “What does heating have to do with this?”

Ten Hag waved his hand: “Sows fall asleep the moment they’re in warmth—you get it now?”

De Jong still didn’t understand, but the team’s warm-up had already begun.

…

“Here he comes, don’t rush!”

Half an hour later, Tang Ye sprinted out from the cafeteria line, flustered, and began today’s training.

“Are you the coach?”

Ten Hag suddenly asked Tang Ye a very strange question.

“No, I’m not.”

“Then why are you wearing a down jacket?”

Ten Hag pointed to his own Nike down jacket, then to Tang Ye’s identical Nike down jacket.

Clearly, Tang Ye was the only player on the field wearing one.

Ten Hag was merciless—he yanked Tang Ye’s down jacket right off. Poor Tang Ye had no choice but to start running, just to keep from feeling cold.

Since they’d played a match yesterday, today’s training intensity was light; Ten Hag organized a 5v5 scrimmage.

Before teams were even assigned, Tang Ye spotted the new face, de Jong, and walked straight over: “Bart says you’re a midfielder—are you an attacking midfielder?”

“Defensive midfielder.”

De Jong corrected him: “But I can play attacking midfield too.”

“Then you’re just like me.”

Tang Ye patted de Jong’s shoulder: “I can play both attacking midfield and striker!”

“When did you start playing striker?”

Amrabat stared wide-eyed.

“I’ve always been able to—you just never noticed.”

Tang Ye explained briefly, then chatted a few minutes with de Jong.

He hadn’t expected this guy was a native Dutchman—rare in Utrecht’s squad!

“What’s your market value?”

Huh?

De Jong clearly hadn’t anticipated this question; he stepped back, but it wasn’t a secret—he answered directly.

“Six million euros—that’s the latest.”

“Six million!”

Tang Ye’s mouth dropped open: “Holy crap, you’re the most expensive player on the team now!”

After saying that, Tang Ye sized up de Jong.

Seeing Tang Ye’s exaggerated expression, de Jong hurried to explain.

Ajax had bought him from Willem II for 7.7 million euros last summer.

The transfer market reflects actual deals—de Jong had a real 7.7 million euro transfer record, so even with few Eredivisie appearances, his value remained high.

In short, scouts believed de Jong had development potential.

“That’s still impressive.”

Tang Ye decided he’d play FIFA with de Jong tonight—he already had de Jong’s player card.

But before Tang Ye could launch the game, Ten Hag grouped Tang Ye, Amrabat, and de Jong together.

Three midfielders in one group—what was Ten Hag planning?

“First phase: no teamwork required. Just get the ball in the net,” Ten Hag ordered. Tang Ye’s group immediately started.

Goalkeeper Ruit passed the ball to de Jong; Jostens sprinted toward him, ready to mark the new signing.

De Jong didn’t rush—he stepped his right foot diagonally in front of the ball, feinting to run left past Jostens, then suddenly cut right.

The Dutchman’s evasion was brilliant; by the time Jostens reacted, de Jong had already created space.

After breaking free, de Jong drove forward; Ramselaar rushed to defend.

De Jong slowed, and the two tangled; he used the moment to showcase his exceptional ball control.

He didn’t beat the defender, but passed to Tang Ye, who had run to his side. Together, they performed a dazzling dribbling sequence inside the box.

He returned the ball to Tang Ye, who curled a shot into the far corner to score.

“Clap clap—beautiful!”

Tang Ye, having scored, received applause from de Jong and teammates—but his gaze at de Jong was filled with envy.

!

Exceptional driving ability, a classic possession-based midfielder!

“I should have developed into something like this...”

Off the pitch, Ten Hag watched the first-team players constantly passing, his mood relaxed.

Ten Hag was very happy because the club had brought him the players he wanted.

He could feel Utrecht was on the right path.

Outstanding players, the right tactics.

And a super-strong Manager of the Month!

This is Utrecht’s future!

Eredivisie Matchday 19: Utrecht vs. Zwolle at home

Utrecht was in excellent form; less than five minutes into the match, Tang Ye assisted Jostens to open the scoring, making it 1-0.

For any team, this was a strong start, and Ten Hag kept the same lineup.

But in the second half, something unexpected happened: Zwolle’s forward Nieland made a fierce tackle and knocked Tang Ye flat on the ground.

“Fuck!”

Tang Ye lay on the ground, clutching his ankle tightly with both hands.

“No no no...”

Ten Hag felt something was wrong. Utrecht’s team doctor rushed onto the pitch and delivered a message that plunged Ten Hag into despair.

Tang Ye twisted his ankle!

“Ouch...”

Tang Ye sat on the bench as team doctor Roosevelt brought two ice packs and told him to press them against his ankle.

“How does it feel?”

“A bit cold.”

“...”

“I mean the pain—do you feel any pain?”

Ten Hag had his hands in his pockets; three deep forehead wrinkles were clearly visible.

Tang Ye carefully felt his injury, then replied: “Hmm... it hurts a little.”

Ten Hag turned his head away, his expression grim.

The Dutch Youth Protection Organization always insisted on enforcing their minor protection laws during youth training.

But what about matches!

Why aren’t the minor protection laws applied to official matches!

【Wait, injured?】

【Damn, that Nieland, is this away-team striker really showing off?】

【We’re done—Mengge off the pitch and Utrecht’s done for!】

【Trust Ten Hag!】

“Shit, what the hell is this!”

Broadcaster Wang Chao saw Tang Ye being carried off by the medical staff; he felt his heart ache.

Not just his heart.

His wallet ached too!

Now the livestream’s Bean Warriors faced a problem.

With Mengge out injured, should they still trust Utrecht in the rest of the match?

Or rather...

Should they still trust Ten Hag?

Tang Ye sat on the bench; the ice packs made his hands uncomfortable.

Roosevelt had just said Tang Ye would likely need a month’s rest.

A month’s rest was good—no doubt—but Tang Ye quickly realized something was off.

Utrecht’s three forwards: Jostens was just promoted from the reserve team and still didn’t understand how to play in the Eredivisie.

Then there was Ale, this big guy was a classic target man—terrible at shielding the ball or dribbling.

As for Barazite, he could dribble, but he couldn’t pass.

Three forwards, each with distinct flaws, plus Ramselaar pretending to be a playmaker—Utrecht had zero attacking opportunities.

The situation on the pitch was awkward for Utrecht, but Ten Hag wasn’t panicked.

Based on this Dutchman’s experience, Utrecht always somehow found a way to attack.

Especially in the second half!

Utrecht’s second-half performances were always fierce!

But...

“Fuck, equalized? Damn, Nieland’s last-minute tap-in!”

Nieland jumped again—first he twisted Tang Ye’s ankle in the first half, now he equalized in the second, leaving Ten Hag stunned.

What kind of luck is this!

Wasn’t he pious enough when he prayed to Jesus on Christmas Eve!

After the match, Ten Hag walked into the press room with a dead-mother expression. Reporters immediately asked him about the equalizer.

“That was luck. I can say with full responsibility: our opponents had incredible luck today. You know, equalizers always require some luck.”

Ten Hag slowly explained: “An equalizer is fundamentally a reflection of a team’s luck, not its strength. From this perspective, we were the stronger side—we scored first.”

“Our opponents won on luck. Otherwise, the score should have ended 1-0. It’s regrettable we didn’t create more chances after leading, but we deserved to win.”

Click!

Click-click-click!

“How’s Tang’s injury?”

Reporters unsurprisingly asked about Tang Ye’s condition. Ten Hag replied according to the doctor’s advice: “I think he’ll need about a month to recover, but it’s hard to say—Tang’s still a kid, and kids usually recover faster.”

The reporters nodded.

“After Tang went off, Utrecht struggled to create attacking chances. Do you think this problem is related to his absence?”

“Oh? That has no direct connection.”

Ten Hag disagreed with the reporter’s assumption: “Tang can create chances sometimes, but no team should revolve around a single player. Our attack failed today because of issues across the entire midfield and frontline—not because Tang was on the bench. That’s a very wrong idea. Our true core has always been on the pitch.”

Oh?

Ten Hag’s words stunned the reporters below.

Then they suddenly realized.

Shit—he meant himself as the core!

(End of Chapter)