Chapter 217: Fiery Little Lion in Protective Mode, Live and Online
After Li Ang's explosive performance helped Chelsea come back to beat West Bromwich Albion, it was no surprise that he once again became the focal point of all football discussions across England.
Arsenal fans, in particular, were on the verge of losing it.
Their match had kicked off at the same time as Chelsea's. At halftime, Chelsea were trailing 0–1, while Arsenal were up 2–0.
Plenty of Gunners fans had already started celebrating.
They thought they were about to crush Van Persie, the "traitor," and reclaim top spot from Chelsea. It was the perfect storyline.
Then came the second half.
Chelsea overturned their deficit to win, while Arsenal blew their lead thanks to a monster second-half from Van Persie—goal and assist.
In just 45 minutes, Arsenal supporters experienced the full emotional rollercoaster.
To make it worse, Van Persie celebrated like a lunatic with his United teammates at Old Trafford.
Arsenal fans were grinding their teeth in frustration.
Not only had they missed the chance to go top, they were now two points behind Chelsea again.
Seeing Chelsea fans celebrating wildly, many Arsenal supporters could only look on with bitter envy.
Cavani had been excellent. Arsenal's back line was solid. All they were missing was a midfield general like Li Ang—a player who could carry the team when it mattered most.
"Can we sign someone in January? Maybe not someone as good as Li Ang, but at least someone who's 70–80% of what he is?"
This comment under Arsenal's official Twitter account went viral.
Fans from other clubs flocked in to poke fun:
"You can get a guy who's 70% as good at attacking, or one who's 70% as good defensively.
But both? Good luck—those don't exist on the market."
"Go ask Florentino Pérez—if Chelsea put Li Ang back on the market, Real Madrid would drop €150 million in a heartbeat."
"Strongly recommend PSG's Khedira. Great stamina, two-way player, Li Ang's good buddy… the 'budget Li Ang,' if you will."
In the face of these relatively harmless jokes, Arsenal fans could only laugh bitterly.
Truthfully, their current midfield wasn't bad.
Toulalan and Arteta formed a well-balanced double pivot, and with Cazorla ahead of them, they had one of the league's best midfields.
Compared to the midfield chaos of previous years, this season's Arsenal was stable and composed.
So really, they had no right to complain.
But Li Ang…
Li Ang was something special. He was the kind of player every fan base dreamed of.
Not just Arsenal—the entire Premier League was jealous.
And the season wasn't even one-third complete, yet Li Ang already had enough "last-minute hero" moments to fill a highlight reel.
Some fans tried to undermine Chelsea's position by saying:
"If it weren't for Li Ang's clutch performances, Chelsea would be third right now."
Chelsea fans didn't even argue.
They smiled and said:
"That's right. You're totally right. On paper, we probably are the third-best squad…
But in reality? We're top of the league."
Fresh off a dramatic comeback win, Chelsea fans had every reason to be proud.
Even the pundits who doubted Li Ang at the start of the season had gone silent.
They couldn't deny the numbers.
As of Matchweek 11, Li Ang was third in the Premier League's scoring chart.
Only Cavani (10 goals in 11 matches) and Suárez (9 goals in 6 matches, post-suspension) were ahead of him.
And in the assists table?
Li Ang was sitting on top.
Try and discredit those stats, and you'd lose your credibility.
Thankfully for Li Ang, international break came right after the 11th matchweek.
That gave fans and pundits a week off—and gave Li Ang time to recharge.
Instead of jumping straight back into intensive training at Cobham, Li Ang flew to Italy to visit his old mentor Pintus, who was vacationing in Turin.
They spent two days catching up, tweaking his training plan.
Then Li Ang flew back to London.
The next week, he practically lived at the training ground, focusing solely on strength and shooting.
After a week of intense work, he'd pushed his strength attribute to its current maximum—87.
But his shooting?
That stubborn stat only increased by a single point—from 74 to 75.
Frustrating.
Even though lower stats were supposed to be easier to improve, his shooting didn't want to budge.
It became clear: to boost that number, he'd need more in-game reps.
Real pressure. Real defenders. Real decisions.
No matter how much you trained, it was never the same as a match.
Especially when a single hesitation could cost you the shot.
That gave Li Ang a renewed sense of urgency.
Yes, he'd been scoring more than expected in the first third of the season.
But he knew full well that part of his success came from being an unknown quantity.
Defenders didn't know his range, didn't understand his shooting angles or dribbling patterns.
They got burned because they weren't prepared.
But with this extended break, other teams were surely reviewing his tape.
They'd have plans next time.
Plans to close his angles. To force him wide. To push him onto his weaker foot.
And that would change everything.
This wasn't unique to Li Ang—every breakout young player faced it.
They'd light up the league in the first half of the season.
Fans would go wild. Media would crown them as the next superstar.
But come the second half?
Suddenly, the magic was gone.
Not because the player regressed.
But because every opposing coach had drawn up a blueprint to contain them.
Trap them, double-team them, press them out of their rhythm.
Cut their space, force them onto their off-foot.
Most young stars would enter a slump—and many never recovered.
Li Ang knew that.
And he wasn't going to let it happen to him.
Li Ang knew exactly what was coming.
He had full confidence in his abilities, of course. But he had mentally prepared himself for the defensive schemes Premier League teams would throw at him after the international break.
It wasn't a big deal.
If they clogged his shooting lanes or doubled up on him, he could still distribute and create chances for his teammates.
Still, the rising sense of urgency inside him reminded him constantly to keep improving his toolkit.
Training slowly? Results taking time? That was fine—as long as there was steady progress.
If he couldn't max out his skills during the season, he'd grind even harder during the break.
Once his shooting and crossing stats both broke into the 80s, defenders would need to burn a lot more energy just to slow him down.
After wrapping up his extra training, Li Ang sprawled out on the grass at Cobham, opening his system attribute panel.
Looking at all those stats hovering above 85, he couldn't help but feel proud.
He remembered when his attacking stats were laughably bad. Not anymore.
Strength: 87 (87)
Stamina: 94 (98)
Speed: 84 (93)
Acceleration: 87 (93)
Dribbling: 82 (93)
Ball Control: 86 (88)
Short Passing: 90 (93)
Long Passing: 87 (93)
Crossing: 73 (87)
Finishing: 75 (93)
Shot Power: 88 (93)
Long Shots: 86 (97)
Agility: 85 (86)
Balance: 86 (87)
Heading: 87 (92)
Jumping: 84 (84)
Slide Tackling: 88 (88)
Standing Tackle: 90 (92)
Vision: 87 (97)
His eyes lingered on the crossing and finishing stats—still lagging behind.
He closed the panel with a sigh and strolled off toward the therapy room.
The next morning, Chelsea's internationals returned to base after the friendlies.
Their next match? Another London Derby—against West Ham United.
Yeah. Another one.
Even though West Ham were just a point above the relegation zone, Mourinho took them seriously.
Everyone knew West Ham might not be the dirtiest team in the Premier League statistically, but they were always near the top of those rankings.
Their fans called it "iron-blooded," "gritty."
Their opponents just called it what it was—violent.
Last season, The Sun ranked West Ham as the second-dirtiest team in the league.
First place went to Stoke City.
Stoke: 485 fouls, 78 yellow cards.
West Ham: 470 fouls, 74 yellows.
This season, after 11 rounds, West Ham had just two wins, four draws, and five losses—most of their points coming at home.
So Mourinho knew this away game at Upton Park wouldn't be easy.
Tactics were one thing.
But keeping his players healthy was another major concern.
November 23, Chelsea traveled to Upton Park.
Despite being a "derby," this game drew little media attention.
Chelsea were top of the league, West Ham were struggling.
There wasn't supposed to be any suspense.
City vs. Spurs, kicking off at the same time, stole the spotlight.
But within 45 minutes, all eyes were suddenly back on Chelsea vs. West Ham.
Why?
Because before halftime, six yellow cards had already been shown—three to each team.
The match was explosive, filled with tension and aggression.
At halftime, Li Ang and West Ham's holding midfielder Mark Noble nearly came to blows in the tunnel.
The trigger? Noble's nasty sliding challenge on De Bruyne had left the Belgian on the ground for two whole minutes.
Three minutes later, Li Ang paid it back in kind.
Noble was left rolling in the grass, groaning in pain for two minutes himself.
West Ham accused Li Ang of revenge fouling.
Li Ang didn't deny it.
In fact, he upped the ante—threatening Noble directly.
"If you go after another Chelsea player like that again, I'll make sure you pay the price."
He stopped short of saying "I'll break your leg," but the implication was clear.
The look in Li Ang's eyes wasn't fake.
Even West Ham's thugs backed off.
They still remembered the way he had nearly launched Noble into orbit earlier in the half.
And the ref? He gave Li Ang a yellow… and scolded the other West Ham players not to escalate.
The home side felt robbed. Was this really Upton Park? It felt like Stamford Bridge.
Then came Terry.
The Chelsea captain choked out West Ham striker Kevin Nolan mid-challenge—literally.
Chelsea's two enforcers—Li Ang and Terry—had arrived.
And West Ham folded.
Mourinho, of course, couldn't say anything officially. But in the dressing room?
He didn't scold Li Ang or Terry.
He just warned them not to get injured.
Which said everything.
In the second half, Chelsea went full throttle.
They hit West Ham hard, refused to back down, and started to dominate.
West Ham, who had come in aggressive, suddenly softened.
In the 68th minute, Li Ang bulldozed through Noble inside the box and headed home Chelsea's go-ahead goal.
He sprinted to the corner flag, cupped a hand to his ear, and faced the South Stand—where West Ham's most die-hard fans were gathered.
The boos rained down.
This was provocation—pure and simple.
But Li Ang didn't care.
He still remembered the mocking whistles and taunts after De Bruyne had gone down.
He didn't expect an apology from them.
So he gave them a response of his own.
You lost. Now deal with it.
The louder the boos, the wider his grin.
This was who he was—unapologetically.
Settle scores. Immediately.
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