Chapter 67: The FA's Threat? I'm Not Afraid! [Second Update]

"Prandelli is present at this match!"

Zhang Jun took a deep breath, his tone tinged with astonishment and a hint of urgency.

"It seems the Italian national team is ready to make their move and recruit Li Mo into the squad! Prandelli coming to London is naturally for this exact purpose!"

In truth, there was actually one Italian international among the players on the pitch for this match.

That was Arsenal's backup goalkeeper, Mannone.

Of course.

No one would believe that Prandelli had traveled all the way to London just to watch a backup goalkeeper who had barely been called up to the senior national team a few times and had never actually played a single minute for them.

Therefore.

The only reason he was here was for Li Mo.

Zhang Jun clearly knew this as well: "Li Mo is currently the top scorer in the Premier League. Given his recent performances in England, no national team could possibly turn down a forward of his caliber. I don't understand why the Chinese Football Association still hasn't taken action! As everyone knows, Li Mo's father is a Chinese citizen of Chinese descent, while his mother is Italian. This means he can choose either the Chinese national team or the Italian national team, and this wouldn't even count as naturalization! He doesn't need to live in China for five years to acquire Chinese citizenship; he is already entitled to his father's nationality by birth!"

Zhang Jun's words sparked a heated discussion among many fans in the live broadcast room.

The more impatient ones immediately began cursing the FA for their incompetence and slow reactions.

"What the hell are they still waiting for?!"

"They should have made a move back when Li Mo first joined Arsenal and before he even broke out. Back then, the Italian national team surely wouldn't have looked twice at Li Mo, but is there anyone in the Chinese national team actually worth two million?"

"The FA is a bunch of morons!"

There were also those who hoped Li Mo would choose the Italian national team.

"Why on earth would he join the Chinese national team? To be assimilated into mediocrity?"

"Forget Li Mo, even Messi wouldn't be able to save the Chinese national team."

"Heh, if a young kid like Li Mo joins the national team without paying homage to the local bosses, he'll be screwed over any minute."

"Did they even pay him before expecting him to join the national team?"

Topics concerning Chinese football always provoked the most intense arguments.

Consequently, the comment section quickly became unreadable.

Fortunately, the match was about to begin.

Arsenal, playing at home, were in great form recently.

Aston Villa, on the other hand, were having a terrible season, fluctuating wildly and currently sitting fifteenth in the league standings.

Newly appointed former Norwich legendary manager Paul Lambert was clearly going to struggle to revitalize this famous former Champions League-winning Premier League club anytime soon.

Therefore, Arsenal seized the initiative right from the opening whistle.

A wave of successive attacks forced visiting Aston Villa to retreat and pack their defense.

In the eighteenth minute, Aston Villa's defensive wall finally crumbled.

Li Mo scored with a composed shot near the penalty spot, firing Arsenal into an early lead.

"Li Mo! A very calm finish! Brilliant! One-nil! Li Mo has scored his 13th Premier League goal of the season!!"

The commentators in the press box did not pay too much attention to the stands.

It was only natural that Li Mo's performances would attract the attention of the super clubs; there was nothing surprising about that.

The main focus was whether Li Mo could maintain his scoring momentum—and judging by this goal, his form was still explosively good.

He was quickly swarmed and surrounded by his Arsenal teammates.

The television broadcast repeatedly replayed the entire sequence of Li Mo's goal.

Up in the stands.

Prandelli stood up and applauded.

A smile graced his face.

His mood was naturally elated.

Italy was desperately short of center forwards!

They treated someone like Mario Balotelli as if he were a precious treasure.

Yet Balotelli was far too inconsistent.

He frequently suffered from sudden mental blackouts.

For instance, he would sometimes stand pondering the meaning of life right inside the penalty box.

At other times, he would score a brace against a powerhouse like Germany.

He was a creature of absolute duality, alternating between genius and madness.

Impossible to guard against.

Compared to the erratic Balotelli.

It was clear that Li Mo was a genuine predatory striker.

He was a taller, faster, and physically stronger Filippo Inzaghi!

Just like in this very goal.

Li Mo used clever movement to seize a positional advantage, holding off the defender with his upper body while precisely placing a left-footed shot into the far corner.

That was the kind of goal Inzaghi could rarely pull off—Premier League defenders were renowned for their physicality and strong one-on-one defending.

Scoring while physically shielding the ball against a towering defender.

Was something you could never expect from Inzaghi.

Yet Li Mo could do it!

His physical attributes were truly exceptional.

Recruiting Li Mo into the Italian national team gave Prandelli much higher expectations for Italy's performance at the 2014 World Cup—reaching the European Championship final had already filled everyone in Italy with confidence.

As for the "low probability" event of Italy, a proud four-time World Cup champion, failing to qualify for the tournament.

How could that possibly happen?

It was just that Li Mo's situation was somewhat unique.

Therefore, Prandelli still needed to obtain the player's personal consent before initiating the recruitment process.

Otherwise, wouldn't it be terribly embarrassing if the guy flat-out rejected them?

On the other side of the stands.

Real Madrid's chief scout, Calafat, jotted down a sentence in his notebook: This is a predatory striker; his greatest value lies in his goalscoring ability.

Calafat closed his notebook and furrowed his brow slightly.

If Real Madrid could genuinely bring Li Mo to the Santiago Bernabéu...

What would happen to Cristiano Ronaldo?

The club's marquee star was also beginning his transition into a pure goal-getter.

Real Madrid did not need two pure finishers.

No...

Strictly speaking.

Li Mo was not just a pure finisher; the tactical resources required for him to score were relatively low, and his ability to capitalize on chances was extraordinary.

However...

If that were the case, placed in an environment like Real Madrid, his goal tally might even match Cristiano Ronaldo's—while consuming far fewer shots than the Portuguese star.

If faced with such a scenario.

Then who exactly would be the undisputed primary star of Real Madrid?

Calafat shook his head.

If Li Mo were to join Real Madrid, the biggest problem he would face wouldn't be tactical.

Instead...

It would be the dressing room.

With Arsenal taking the lead, Aston Villa's resistance in this match was essentially over.

Before the end of the first half, Cazorla beat the Villa goalkeeper with a direct free-kick.

Li Mo was substituted after playing a little over ten minutes in the second half.

The team's next match was an away fixture against Newcastle in three days, which promised to be a tough battle, so the coaching staff giving some key players an early rest was entirely understandable.

In the eighty-third minute.

Walcott scored on a fast break after being sent through one-on-one, sealing the scoreline at three-nil.

Arsenal claimed another three points.

Keeping the pressure on Manchester City and Manchester United at the top of the table.

After the match, Wenger was cornered by reporters in the mixed zone regarding the appearance of Real Madrid scouts at the Emirates Stadium.

"I didn't see them, but that's not surprising. Which Premier League match doesn't have scouts in the stands? It's no big deal," Wenger said.

"They were Real Madrid scouts, though."

"So what?"

Wenger shook his head and said, "I don't care about that. I only focus on my own team and our matches."

Li Mo was also swarmed by reporters.

"Real Madrid are our opponents in the Champions League, and that's my only connection to them!"

Li Mo said as he walked.

He quickly vanished into the player tunnel.

He had no desire to talk about other clubs in front of the media.

Even though.

Real Madrid's interest objectively placed him in an absolute position of strength during his contract negotiations with Arsenal.

Arsenal Football Club was currently in a completely passive position—well, of course, they were simply reluctant to hand a seventeen-year-old Li Mo the highest salary in the team. But from Li Mo's perspective, he was the offensive core, the team's top goalscorer, and the leading marksman.

He was demanding top wages.

Fair and reasonable.

The players celebrated their victory in the dressing room and then wished each other a Merry Christmas.

At that moment, Wenger pushed the door open.

"You have tomorrow off, but don't go out partying wildly. We're playing Newcastle away the day after tomorrow, and before that, I expect you to let your bodies recover properly."

Wenger offered a reminder.

Then everyone set about packing their things, taking showers, and changing clothes.

"Hey, Li, are you free tomorrow?"

Ramsey secretly sidled up to him.

"What's up?"

"It's my birthday party, tomorrow night at the Bloody Rose Pub, you've got to come!"

A birthday party?

Li Mo turned to look at Ramsey.

"I only invited a few of the younger guys—Jack, Theo, Oxlade-Chamberlain..." Ramsey looked at Li Mo with anticipation in his eyes.

"Alright, I'll be there."

Li Mo agreed.

After all, it was a kindly meant invitation from a teammate.

They boarded the team bus back to the training ground.

Li Mo slung his backpack over his shoulder, preparing to leave the facility.

At that precise moment, his phone rang.

"Tullio, do you have good news for me?" Li Mo chuckled.

"Indeed I do. Prandelli wants to talk to you," Tullio said on the other end of the line.

"When?" Li Mo wasn't surprised. Given his performances, for the Italian national team to only be reaching out now was already a rather slow reaction.

What surprised him was that the Chinese national team hadn't shown any reaction whatsoever up to this point.

"Tomorrow afternoon. I'm heading to London shortly, and I'll go with you tomorrow."

Tomorrow afternoon...

Li Mo shook his head.

It seemed he would only have the morning available for training tomorrow.

Li Mo walked out of the training ground.

Right then.

A black car pulled up in front of him.

"Xiao Mo..."

The car window rolled down, revealing a striking and charming face.

"Su Xiaoxiao?!"

Li Mo wore a look of astonishment.

Su Xiaoxiao had lived next door to Li Mo back when he was studying abroad in Milan.

"So disrespectful, call me Sister Xiao!" Su Xiaoxiao opened the car door and reached out, only to realize she had to stand on tiptoe to reach the top of Li Mo's head. "Tsk tsk tsk, look how big this little brat has grown."

Li Mo lowered his head, though he couldn't see Su Xiaoxiao's tiptoes.

"You aren't small either..."

He muttered under his breath.

"Little rascal, how come I never noticed you had such lecherous potential before?"

"That must mean the system hasn't unlocked that feature yet."

Su Xiaoxiao playfully threw a soft punch at Li Mo.

"Get in the car!"

"Where are we going?"

"To treat you to a late-night snack."

"I'm an athlete; I can't just eat midnight snacks casually."

"Then you can just watch me eat."

Li Mo got into the passenger seat and turned his head to look at his former neighbor.

"What brings you to London?"

"Work. I'm now the London correspondent for the *Southern China Sports Daily*."

"London correspondent? Your newspaper must be pretty well off..."

Su Xiaoxiao glanced at Li Mo. "This is all because of you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. A lot of domestic media outlets are preparing to dispatch resident correspondents to London now."

"Oh..." Li Mo dawned upon the realization. It seemed he hadn't fully prepared himself to become a celebrity.

"You didn't just look for me for a midnight snack, did you?"

"Of course not... but I am entrusted by someone else." Su Xiaoxiao saw the traffic light ahead turn red and stepped on the brakes.

"People from the Chinese Football Association want to see you."

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning."

Li Mo nodded.

Well.

It appeared he wouldn't have any time for training tomorrow at all.

At the exact same time Li Mo and Su Xiaoxiao were having their midnight snack, the result of the much-anticipated Manchester Derby was also decided.

Manchester United, playing at home, defeated Manchester City one-nil courtesy of a somewhat justified penalty kick.

Consequently.

After 17 rounds of league matches.

Manchester United had accumulated 38 points, while Manchester City and Arsenal both had 33 points, with Arsenal sitting in third due to an inferior goal difference.

Chelsea sat in fourth with 30 points.

The landscape of the Premier League standings remained intensely congested.

"Hello, I am Li Mo."

The following morning.

Li Mo, accompanied by his agent Tullio and guided by Su Xiaoxiao, arrived at a cafe in London.

Two middle-aged men—one plump, one thin—seated across from them stood up.

"My name is Guo Hui, the national team delegation leader, and this is Director Ma Mingsheng from the national team administration department."

That Director Ma wore a stern expression, merely nodding stiffly at Li Mo, while briefly frowning when he noticed Li Mo had actually brought an agent along.

"Xiao Li, sit, sit, sit."

Guo Hui smiled and gestured for everyone to take a seat.

"Let's get straight to the point then. Xiao Li, the national team intends to call you up for the upcoming squad..."

Seeing Li Mo about to speak.

Guo Hui waved a hand. "Hear me out first. Joining the national team and fighting for your country is the ultimate honor for an athlete! Joining the Chinese national team will also benefit you personally; after all, China is the world's largest market, don't you get what I mean?"

Li Mo furrowed his brow slightly. "Leader Guo, if you have something to say, feel free to speak plainly."

"Then I'll be direct." Guo Hui glanced sideways at the austere-looking Director Ma.

"As for your commercial earnings in China, we are willing to take just thirty percent!"

Guo Hui held up three fingers as he spoke.

Thirty percent.

And *just* thirty percent?

Li Mo was utterly astounded.

Players had to kick back a portion of their commercial earnings to the FA?

Li Mo had never heard of such a thing—had he known that back in the day when the Great Wall of Basketball went to the NBA, even a portion of his salary had to be handed over to the Basketball Association, he wouldn't have been so surprised.

"Leader Guo, what... exactly are you implying?"

"Xiao Li, you've lived abroad for a long time and don't understand the rules back home. Our domestic market is so vast, and the national team is recruiting you, granting you such immense prestige. Shouldn't you give something back to the national team out of the money you earn? Help support other commercially weaker sports projects in our country?"

I bet it goes straight into your own pockets, doesn't it?

Li Mo knitted his brows.

"Besides, you won't be losing out either, Xiao Li. Just think about it: once you become a member of the national team, your commercial value back home will undoubtedly skyrocket, and by then... you'll be earning even more money—"

Before Guo Hui could finish.

Li Mo stood up.

"Save it, Leader Guo, I understand your point completely," Li Mo said. "I think we have nothing left to talk about. Me not joining the Chinese national team isn't my loss—it's the loss of the Chinese national team!"

With that, Li Mo turned to leave.

"Xiao Li, don't act rashly. Think about it: if you aren't a Chinese international, how could you possibly make money in China?"

Guo Hui still smiled, but his tone began to sharpen with hidden barbs.

His meaning was abundantly clear.

The Chinese national team could recruit Li Mo, but that also meant the Chinese FA was "bestowing" upon him the status of a national team player, sky-rocketing his commercial value.

In return, it was only fair that Li Mo hand over a share of the money he earned in China through his commercial value to the FA.

Li Mo laughed in sheer disbelief. "What, do you people think you can cover the sky with one hand and strip me of all commercial value in China?"

Right at that moment.

Director Ma, who had remained silent all along, suddenly spoke up.

"Young man, don't be so arrogant and hot-headed. Walk out that door, and the things you lose in the future will be far greater!"

Li Mo paused, turning his head to glare at Director Ma.

"Now I finally understand why Chinese football is such absolute garbage. Don't worry, even if I have to abandon all my commercial income in China, I will never step foot into the cesspool you people control."

Having said that.

Li Mo turned and walked out.

Su Xiaoxiao shook her head slightly and hurried after him.

"Do you know what they were really threatening you with? In the future, they'll likely pin the blame for your refusal to join the Chinese national team entirely on you, slapping labels like traitor and turncoat on your back..."

"I'm not afraid of that."

Li Mo shook his head.

"Are you trying to persuade me to bow my head to them?"

"No, I just wanted to tell you: protect yourself."

Su Xiaoxiao pulled out a memory card.

"This is a recording of your conversation just now."

"This..." Li Mo was taken aback.

Su Xiaoxiao smiled. "I've been back in the country for so many years; how could I not know what kind of trash runs the FA? I was prepared from the start. Don't forget, I'm a paparazzi reporter—undercover recording is my specialty."

Su Xiaoxiao blinked playfully.

"Sister Xiao..." Li Mo felt a deep sense of gratitude.

"What? Touched?" Su Xiaoxiao laughed. "Why don't you repay me by offering yourself, starting tonight."

Li Mo slipped the memory card into his pocket and smiled. "Alright, let's make it tonight then."

"Deal—wait, no, I don't want to rob the cradle..."

Su Xiaoxiao instantly backed down.