Starting as a Defensive Midfielder at Real Madrid

”Put a bit more force into your passes. If you’re under pressure and haven’t built full chemistry with your teammates yet, anything beyond three meters, it’s better to err on the side of safety over comfort. Don’t worry if they can’t trap it cleanly—this is Real Madrid.”

Cristiano Ronaldo wiped the fine sweat from his forehead and offered Li Ang this piece of advice after spending half an hour personally drilling short passing exercises with him.

Li Ang nodded with a smile. ”You’re really a good guy, Cristiano. I still have so many areas to improve. If there’s anything I do wrong in training, please don’t hesitate to point it out. I really appreciate your help.”

”…Mm.”

Watching Ronaldo scratch his head, looking all cool and a bit smug, Li Ang didn’t mind his cockiness at all.

Sure, at first glance, Cristiano might come off as aloof, but once you got to know him, Li Ang realized that Ronaldo—while obsessive and relentless on the pitch—was actually quite easygoing in private.

Yes, he was arrogant. Yes, even self-important. He was intense, proud, and so competitive in training that his presence alone put massive pressure on others.

But he also had a childlike side. No airs when dealing with teammates. If you needed help and asked him directly, he’d often agree without a second thought.

A man like that? Not so hard to get along with once you understood how he worked.

Just follow his rhythm, speak his language, and you’d be fine.

Would a truly difficult star—someone whose ego was too big to handle—bother to bicker with you over who trained more and then give you useful feedback after calling your technique trash?

Some guys, even if they weren’t on Ronaldo’s level, wouldn’t waste time on a young player like Li Ang at all.

”I’m going to work on my free kicks and shooting now. Wanna join?”

Maybe it was because Li Ang’s earlier compliments had put him in a good mood. Ronaldo even extended an invitation for more training.

Li Ang was tempted, very tempted.

But after a moment’s hesitation, he still shook his head.

Ronaldo’s smile stiffened a little.

”I know my own abilities, Cristiano. I’m really not gifted when it comes to free kicks or finishing. Even with your coaching—as the best active free-kick taker in the world—I probably wouldn’t grasp the technique. And I can’t afford to take up your personal training time. We’re all counting on you to score more goals this season and lead us past Barça. How could I be selfish enough to hold you back?”

The moment Li Ang said this, Ronaldo’s flicker of annoyance vanished.

Look at this kid—so honest!

Did you hear what he just said? ”Best free-kick taker in the world.” ”The hope of all Real Madrid.”

How could those not be genuine?

That serious expression, those earnest eyes—no way he was sucking up.

Cristiano couldn’t hold back his grin. He waved his hand generously and even stuck around to help Li Ang drill press-breaking short passes for another fifteen minutes.

Li Ang was absolutely loving it.

Once they finished that session, he thanked Ronaldo profusely and moved on to his long-pass training.

Cristiano was satisfied too—completely oblivious to being skillfully played.

Li Ang’s tone was just too natural. His sincerity? Rock-solid. Not an ounce of flattery.

”He said I’m the face of Real Madrid and the world’s top free-kick artist…”

That compliment echoed in Ronaldo’s head like an anthem.

The more he looked at Li Ang, the more pleasing he found the kid.

Even his own shooting practice felt smoother than usual—his kicks stronger, sharper.

From the adjacent training field, Li Ang could hear the repeated thud! thud! of Ronaldo’s thunderous strikes and instinctively shrank his neck.

This was talent.

That wild, beast-like power, perfectly controlled—pure, raw talent.

Li Ang was honestly jealous watching Cristiano hit those knuckleballs. But he knew he didn’t have the natural gifts for that kind of skill. So he had no choice but to politely decline Ronaldo’s offer.

He had more important things to work on.

Short passing was still his current focus, backed by Valerón’s insight and boosted talent cap.

Long passing was also essential—a must-have for any elite defensive midfielder.

Together, those two areas already filled up his extra training slots completely.

He couldn’t afford to dilute his focus.

Free kicks could wait.

But while he couldn’t train them right now, he could stand on the sideline and watch. And so, during breaks, Li Ang carefully observed Cristiano’s shooting technique, foot placement, and timing.

And of course, he made sure to express genuine awe every time Ronaldo hit a beauty.

Cristiano, fueled by this very appropriate audience, trained with even more fire. Even the fitness coach watching from the side was rolling his eyes at how charged up the star was.

The La Liga opening match was done, and a 12-day break had started.

But even during a rest period, players were expected to maintain optimal fitness for upcoming team drills.

The fitness coach knew Ronaldo and Li Ang had great stamina, but after ninety straight minutes of training, he still forced both to stop.

He wasn’t joking.

If either of them showed up to team training fatigued two days later, Mourinho would absolutely unleash the hairdryer on him.

That’s why he’d stuck around at Valdebebas today—just to keep an eye on Li Ang.

”Can I stay another hour in the weight room?”

”Mind if I do more explosive leg work indoors?”

Ronaldo and Li Ang asked at the same time.

The coach covered his face with both hands… and firmly refused.

Weight room? Nope.

But the recovery room and swimming pool were approved.

Defeated, the duo obediently headed for physiotherapy.

By now it was almost 5 PM.

Most of the injured players who had come for treatment earlier had already left, leaving only Pepe still inside, waiting for Ronaldo.

Seeing the two walk in together laughing, Pepe raised an eyebrow.

But after chatting with Li Ang for about ten minutes, he too understood.

”This kid really knows how to talk!”

Pepe cracked a grin at Li Ang’s effortless stream of compliments—”defensive pillar,” ”heart of the back line.” His smile lines probably deepened from that alone.

Once therapy and a few laps in the pool were done, the three parted ways in the parking lot.

”Are you coming to train again tomorrow?”

Li Ang asked Cristiano as they said goodbye.

Ronaldo remembered he’d promised Irina they’d go to an art exhibit tomorrow and almost instinctively said no.

But then he saw Li Ang’s honest, hopeful face.

He remembered the heartfelt words—the praise.

His heart softened. His head nodded.

Cristiano Ronaldo smiled.

”I’ll come.”

Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.

Read 20 Chapters In Advance: /johanssen10