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Starting as a Defensive Midfielder at Real Madrid

Chapter 27: His Path—The Loneliest, The Most Glorious · Nov 11, 2026

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Chapter List (401)

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1 Chapter 1: The Real Madrid Youth Product Set on Being Loaned Out 2026-11-11
2 Chapter 2: What Do You Mean I’m Unlucky? 2026-11-11
3 Chapter 3: Just an Ordinary Defensive Midfielder 2026-11-11
4 Chapter 4: Valerón’s Short Passing Talent Fragment 2026-11-11
5 Chapter 5: That Kid Might Really Start for Real Madrid 2026-11-11
6 Chapter 6: Facing the Future 2026-11-11
7 Chapter 7: A Decade’s Cycle — The Budget Makélélé 2026-11-11
8 Chapter 8: Mourinho’s “Dream Midfield Anchor” 2026-11-11
9 Chapter 9: Rich Rewards from La Liga – System Upgrade 2026-11-11
10 Chapter 10: Grinding and Pay-to-Win—Not the Strongest, Just the Most Durable 2026-11-11
11 Chapter 11: The Rapidly Improving Defensive Grind King 2026-11-11
12 Chapter 12 - 12 2026-11-11
13 Chapter 13: At First, I Refused—But He Spoke So Well 2026-11-11
14 Chapter 14: Don’t Charge Forward, Be the Defensive Grind King 2026-11-11
15 Chapter 15: A Completely Different Second Half—Li Ang’s Impact 2026-11-11
16 Chapter 16: How Could He Not Be Considered a Promising Young Talent? 2026-11-11
17 Chapter 17: If He’s Not a Freak, Then He’s a Prodigy 2026-11-11
18 Chapter 18: From Foe to Friend, Little Lion – The Low-Key, Versatile Prince 2026-11-11
19 Chapter 19: A Tragedy from the Start 2026-11-11
20 Chapter 20: The Ironclad Midfield Trio 2026-11-11
21 Chapter 21: Mourinho’s Real Madrid Sets Sail 2026-11-11
22 Chapter 22: Double Rewards! The Champions League Is the True Path to Wealth 2026-11-11
23 Chapter 23: Boss, Can You Guarantee Me a Starting Spot?【Double-Length Chapter】 2026-11-11
24 Chapter 24: Make the Most of This Time—Time to Grind! 2026-11-11
25 Chapter 25: If I Give Everything in My Prime, I’ll Never Regret It 2026-11-11
26 Chapter 26: As Long As He Hasn’t Left, He’ll Start in the Champions League for Real Madrid 2026-11-11
27 Chapter 27: His Path—The Loneliest, The Most Glorious 2026-11-11
28 Chapter 28: A Breakthrough in Growth 2026-11-11
29 Chapter 29: Li Ang’s “Lucky Record” 2026-11-11
30 Chapter 30: Germany or Italy? 2026-11-11
31 Chapter 31: Alonso’s Displeasure 2026-11-11
32 Chapter 32 - 32 2026-11-11
33 Chapter 33: The Twilight of a Dynasty 2026-11-11
34 Chapter 34: Allegri, Do You Want a Defensive Midfielder or Not? 2026-11-11
35 Chapter 35: Mourinho’s Decision Before Departure 2026-11-11
36 Chapter 36: Allegri’s “Accomplice” Arrives in Milan 2026-11-11
37 Chapter 37: First Day in Milan – Reviewing the First Half of the Season 2026-11-11
38 Chapter 38: Who Says He’s Just a Defensive Midfielder? 2026-11-11
39 Chapter 39: Everybody Loves the Little Lion 2026-11-11
40 Chapter 40: The Superstitious Kid 2026-11-11
41 Chapter 41: The Final Piece of the Championship Puzzle 2026-11-11
42 Chapter 42: We Want the Winter Title 2026-11-11
43 Chapter 43: The Butcher Version of Kaká 2026-11-11
44 Chapter 44: You Can’t Get Past Li Ang, You Can’t Break Milan 2026-11-11
45 Chapter 45: Let Me Show You What “Surprise” Really Means 2026-11-11
46 Chapter 46: If You’ve Got Questions, You Can Ask Me 2026-11-11
47 Chapter 47: Longing from Spain 2026-11-11
48 Chapter 48: Mourinho Was Right 2026-11-11
49 Chapter 49: From Now On, We Won’t Lose Again—Until We Lift the Trophy 2026-11-11
50 Chapter 50: You—Start Practicing Forward Runs 2026-11-11

September 28th, Auxerre’s home ground, the Stade de l’Abbé-Deschamps.

As the stirring Champions League anthem echoed throughout the stadium, the group stage clash between Real Madrid and Auxerre began.

When the broadcast cameras swept across the two teams lined up on the pitch, they suddenly cut to Real Madrid’s bench.

Granero, Dudek, Canales, the newly recovered Lassana Diarra… and that infamous ”deadweight” attacking midfielder.

Many fans who had been following the recent internal turmoil at Madrid chuckled knowingly.

Meanwhile, thousands of Chinese fans watching the live match in the dead of night back home erupted.

”He really does look like a corpse! Those dead fish eyes, and he still thinks he can take Li Ang’s minutes? Rot on the bench!”

”Seriously, what was Mourinho thinking when he signed this guy? He’s ugly as hell. Even Khedira looks better!”

”Diarra, sitting next to him, looks ten times better. At least Diarra doesn’t run to the media. He earns his place with skill. That’s how it should be!”

That so-called attacking midfielder probably had no idea that, halfway across the globe, he was being relentlessly flamed by thousands of furious fans.

And it reflected a broader truth—Li Ang’s public image in China had undergone a dramatic reversal.

Even fans who once blindly followed the narrative and criticized Li Ang were beginning to realize the truth.

Why would someone like Li Ang, who had just become the captain of the U-19 national team, suddenly fall out with the federation?

If he truly never wanted to play for the national team, why accept the call-up in the first place?

Veteran fans, familiar with the murky politics of the Chinese Football Association, had their suspicions.

And maybe, just maybe, Li Ang was right.

Maybe he had tried to tolerate things. Maybe he had been pushed too far by the greed and shamelessness he once alluded to in that now-famous social media post.

”He took the hardest road to make the loudest statement.”

After all, a young man capable of starting for Real Madrid didn’t need to tank his reputation in China for no reason.

Once they saw it that way, an overwhelming number of fans changed their stance.

Combined with those who had supported him all along, Li Ang now had the majority of Chinese fans firmly in his corner.

Even the state-run media wasn’t censoring or ignoring him.

After all, the Football Association had no authority over the country’s top broadcasters.

So CCTV kept airing La Liga as usual. And when they wanted to hype someone, they hyped Li Ang.

Commentator He Wei, who already covered La Liga regularly, had gotten first dibs on most of Li Ang’s matches. He was loving it.

Tonight’s Champions League match was his again, co-commentated with tactical expert Zhang Lu.

As soon as the camera showed Li Ang’s calm and striking face during the player lineup, the two commentators were already in full swing.

”The new Makélélé!”

”Castilla’s Essien!”

”Little Marcos Senna!”

Nickname after nickname was tossed onto Li Ang’s shoulders.

And this time, it wasn’t just playful exaggeration. These were titles already circulating in the Spanish press.

Li Ang, with his steady, mature performances, had already earned genuine recognition from the Spanish media and fans alike.

In an era where the Chinese overseas player pool was shrinking year after year, where the talent pipeline was basically dry, Li Ang was a rare gem.

A player even the foreign media praised—how could the Chinese broadcasters not be thrilled?

And as for the political stuff? That wasn’t their department. They had neither the power nor the interest to address those issues.

Right now, watching a legitimate Chinese footballer shine on the La Liga and Champions League stage was more than enough to make them feel proud.

”Alright, the match is about to begin! Director Zhang, could you walk us through the starting lineups?”

”Sure. Real Madrid is once again lining up in the familiar 4-3-3 formation that’s been working so well for them lately.

In defense, it’s Ramos and Pepe as the center-back pairing, with Carvalho resting. Marcelo starts at left-back, Arbeloa on the right.

Midfield sees Li Ang and Alonso as the double pivot, with Khedira ahead of them in the central role.

Up front, Cristiano Ronaldo stays on the left, Higuaín starts as the center-forward, and Benzema gets the nod on the right. Di María is on the bench tonight.

For Auxerre…”

As Zhang Lu droned on, millions of Chinese viewers turned their eyes toward Real Madrid’s dazzling starting lineup.

And as they spotted Li Ang among the stars, many still felt like they were dreaming.

But the referee’s whistle snapped them back to reality.

Benzema passed the ball back to Alonso, who, under immediate pressure from the Auxerre forwards, returned it calmly to Li Ang.

This was real.

For many fans tuning in to see Li Ang work with the likes of Alonso, Marcelo, Di María, and even Ronaldo, this was a surreal moment—one filled with pride.

Even those who had watched all of Madrid’s matches this season couldn’t help but be moved again.

”Li Ang’s passing is so composed—no signs of nerves at all! He got rave reviews in his last Champions League match against Ajax, but people said it was only because he was playing at the Bernabéu.

Now look at him at the Stade de l’Abbé-Deschamps—same composure, same confidence.

What do those critics have to say now?”

Five minutes in, both sides were still testing the waters.

Li Ang wasn’t doing anything flashy—yet.

That’s normal.

A defensive midfielder shines most when under siege—when the other team pours forward or hits on the counter.

But that didn’t stop He Wei and Zhang Lu from showering him with praise.

Because Li Ang was calm, precise, and already guiding the defensive line with mature communication.

Nineteen years old. Starting in the Champions League. Holding midfield. No mistakes.

What more do you want?

What else can you ask for?

And across the country, in dimly lit living rooms glowing with midnight light, as commentators tried to suppress their excitement, the focus of an entire nation locked onto one boy.

In the eyes of countless fans, the other Madrid stars faded away.

Only Li Ang remained.

Some thought back to six months ago—when this same boy had faced the rage of millions, accused and insulted by his own people.

He hadn’t defended himself.

He simply posted quiet thanks to the few who encouraged him.

But inside… did he really feel no bitterness?

No resentment?

Maybe. Maybe not.

But what mattered was that he kept going.

He carried all the weight on his own shoulders, never wavering.

From Castilla, to Real Betis, to Real Madrid.

His journey had been lonely.

His fight, lonely.

And in this pursuit of a professional football dream, even lonelier.

There was no elder, no predecessor in China who could show him the way.

He had no guide.

Only himself.

He was the one who endured the smears, the betrayals, and the backstabbing.

And maybe—just maybe—when he decided to fly to Spain six years ago, to embrace the cruel intensity of European youth training, his path was already set.

His path.

The loneliest.

The most glorious.

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

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