And maybe he could return even faster.
So the "championship" was Su Hang's investment.
Florentino's offer had originally been "everything at Real Madrid."
The captain's armband, a say in tactics, influence on transfers, authority in team-building, even control over stadium and club operations—the works!
It was an incredibly generous offer.
In essence, Florentino was offering to make Su Hang the hidden "Vice President of Real Madrid."
But Su Hang refused.
He liked things that were truly his own.
And Real Madrid... would always belong to someone else.
What he wanted was a club entirely under his ownership.
And that was no simple matter.
La Liga, Serie A, or the Premier League?
Would a second-division team be acceptable?
Did geography matter?
What support could Real Madrid provide afterward—players, coaches, equipment, facilities?
These were all important questions.
And the key problem was that many leagues had very strict entry requirements for new investors.
Su Hang and his father had almost no chance of getting in.
It wasn't about money.
It was that even if they wanted to spend it, they wouldn't be given the chance.
If Florentino was willing to help, however, things would become much easier.
All of this would require further negotiations with him, and it would depend on what Su Hang and his father could bring to the table.
Su Hang would handle the team's results.
His father would provide financial backing and assist Florentino with key decisions, allowing him to step back cleanly.
This was the most important decision the Su family had made in a decade.
And for Su Hang, it was the one chance he had secured by burning all the credit he had with his father.
There was no turning back.
He had to win.
"Sorry to let some boring business interrupt your trip. If not for this damn call, we'd already be toasting in this car." Su Hang turned to the blonde woman. "I'm Su Hang, a professional football player."
Pfft!
The blonde beauty, who had looked a little annoyed, burst into laughter. "Don't be modest, I know who you are. Su Hang, the youngest captain in Real Madrid's history!"
"And the youngest player ever to make the Ballon d'Or top-50 list this year!"
"Honestly, I thought your introduction would start with the words 'Real Madrid.'"
Su Hang smiled lightly. "Wouldn't that be too obnoxious? I don't think being a Real Madrid player is anything to brag about. But I do know how unbearable those people are who flaunt their skyscraper office jobs as proof they're some kind of elite!"
The blonde covered her mouth, trying not to laugh too hard. "You're the least obnoxious footballer I've ever met."
"By the way, you mentioned drinking in the car—did you bring wine?"
Su Hang pressed a button on the armrest.
Two cup holders slid out, each holding an elegant wine glass.
From the front console, a small fridge eased open, revealing bottles of wine and other drinks.
"Truth is, whether it's Rolls-Royce or Mercedes, the wine they stock is always cheap. But for some reason, it hits the spot for me." Su Hang pulled out a bottle, uncorked it, and poured a small amount into each glass.
Just a sip or two.
After all, they still had to walk the Ballon d'Or red carpet.
No chance of overindulging.
"By the way, how should I introduce my red carpet partner to the media?" Su Hang looked at the blonde. "Assuming any reporters come my way."
"I imagine there'll be some, but not too many. Don't be disappointed."
The blonde finally remembered her manners. "Hello, I'm Jennifer Lawrence, an actress."
"I just signed with an agency this year, preparing for my debut. It's an honor to be arranged to walk the red carpet with you."
Jennifer Lawrence?
Su Hang chuckled.
He never would've guessed.
Before her rise to fame, Jennifer was certainly pretty, but compared to the mature, sensual charm she would gain in her thirties, she was still a little green.
She had the look of someone on the verge of transforming from an awkward duckling into a swan.
Of course, the change was more about her aura than her features.
Her face hadn't changed much—if anything, she had even more youthful glow at this age.
In Europe, big sporting events like the Ballon d'Or or FIFA World Player of the Year always attracted celebrities trying to squeeze in.
Especially young models.
They were practically a traditional accessory for footballers.
Jennifer's agency must have had influence—or incredible luck—to pair her with someone as high-profile as Su Hang.
After all, if you walked the carpet with Zidane or Figo, those veterans would treat you like a daughter. The media couldn't spin that into a story.
But walk with a young star? Even just a rumor of romance could land a young actress multiple roles.
And the spotlight always favored younger players.
At the moment, outside of the Ballon d'Or top five or ten, the players with the most hype in European football were Cristiano Ronaldo, Zlatan Ibrahimović, Kaká, and Su Hang.
Wayne Rooney's rough image, Xavi's low profile and lack of looks, and Lionel Messi's still-short career meant they had to wait their turn.
Players could bring family or friends as companions. If not, the organizers would arrange someone for them.
It was all about not looking lonely.
Yes, it might sound objectifying, but in certain circles, men and women were treated as each other's most glamorous accessories.
...
Soon, Su Hang's car stopped at the red carpet entrance.
The arrivals were carefully scheduled to control both the order and timing.
It was clear the organizers this time were competent—the event ran like clockwork.
Stepping out, Su Hang circled around to escort Jennifer from the car.
Not yet sixteen, Jennifer's looks and poise, enhanced by makeup, already gave her the aura of a future star.
She took Su Hang's arm, her eyes wandering uncertainly.
She was searching for the "dedicated photographer" her agency had sent.
Because unless you were a big name, most photographers wouldn't bother with you on a major red carpet.
The true superstars—those greeted everywhere, chased by flashing cameras—were obvious.
For minor celebrities, walking the carpet was no different than strolling down a morning street.
No one wasted film on them.
That's why they had to find their company photographer, strike some poses, and let the agency use those photos for publicity.
It created the illusion of popularity, convincing fans their star was well-connected.
But the real purpose was to compete for roles.
And while everyone in the industry knew how staged these photos were, it didn't matter—they still worked.