"Zinedine, what do you think?"

  After reviewing Inter Min's starting lineup, Gao Shen turo Zidane and asked for his opinion.

  Zidahought for a moment before shaking his head. "It's hard to say. It looks like it could be a 4-3-3, but it also resembles a 4-4-2. Zai pying as a right midfielder isn't unheard of, and Mai's attag ability is exceptional. The two could work together on the right fnk."

  "You know, our atta the left has always been strong."

  Over the past two seasons, Napoli's left fnk had been their sharpest on.

  Initially, it was the pairing of Gervinho and Vargas. Last season, it transitioo Di Maria and Vargas, and the attaly became stronger. Vargas even earhe title of Serie A's best left-back.

  If Mourinho was using Zai and Mai to suppress Napoli's left fnk, it would make perfect sense.

  "What about you?" Gao Shen asked Carlo.

  "Zinedine has a point, but I also think Balotelli could be pying as a winger. Mani has used him there before, though it wasn't particurly effective."

  Carlo was referring to Balotelli's previous appearan the wing during the Coppa Italia final.

  But could it really be that simple?

  Gao Shen wasn't vinced. He decided not to dwell on it.

  Now that Mourinho had finalized his starting lineup, it was time to see what his team could do och.

  And hey weren't without their own surprises.

  Gao Shen was fident that when Mourinho saoli's starting lineup, he'd be equally caught off guard.

  After all, surprises go both ways.

  ---

  In the home locker room at Inter Min's Meazza Stadium, Mourinho was iunned when he saoli's lineup.

  "What the hell is he pying at?" Mourinho muttered.

  Napoli's starting XI was as follows:

  Goalkeeper: Handanovic

  Defenders: Vargas, avaro, Benatia, Lichtsteiner

  Midfielders: Hamsik, Thiago Motta, Vidal

  Forwards: Sanchez, i, Valencia

  Mourinho had correctly predicted that with Biglia unavaible, Thiago Motta would py as the lone defensive midfielder and that Naples would switch to a 4-3-3.

  He also khat Gao Shen's 4-3-3 was synonymous with aggression, fully unleashing the team's offensive firepower. He had suspected that Gao Shen's pre-match humility loy to mask his true i: to attack.

  What Mourinho didn't expect was that Gao Shen would start Benatia at ter-back.

  That move surprised him—and gave him an uling feeling.

  Was Benatia really just a pyer ing off a career-threatening injury, one who hadn't pyed in over a year?

  If that were the case, why would Gao Shen gamble by starting him in su important match?

  And why were Sanchez and Valencia, both primarily right-wingers, starting together?

  That could only mean one of them ying on the left. Most likely Sanchez, given Valencia's proven ability to use his pace to deliver crosses from the right.

  It might seem like a minor adjustment, but the tactical implications of an ied winger were signifit.

  Now, Mourinho wasn't sure what to expect.

  But ohing was clear: Gao Shen had surprised him, just as he had tried to surprise Gao Shen.

  ---

  Despite its global reputation, the Meazza Stadium's facilities were noticeably dated.

  The pyer tunnel, for example, was cramped, f the two teams to walk out in staggered rows. Led by referee Sai, the pyers made their way to the field.

  The roar of more than 40,000 fans greeted them, the atmosphere electric.

  Inter Min fans were especially energized.

  This summer, they had hoped Gao Shen would take charge of their team, only for him to dee. To them, it in the face.

  When Mourinho stepped in as his rept, he immediately won the fans' support. Now, they wanted nothing more than for him to lead Inter Min to victory, to crush Gao Shen's Napoli, and to start the season with a statement win.

  The expectations were sky-high.

  Last season's missed league and cup titles o be recimed, and their disappointing Champions League performance demanded redemption.

  For the fans, the journey began tonight—with the Italian Super Cup.

  ---

  As Gao Shen emerged from the tunnel, deafening boos erupted from the stands.

  To add insult to injury, white tissues rained down from above, a clear message of disdain.

  Gao Shen quickly sidestepped the falling debris, unsure of what unsanitary purposes the tissues might have served.

  "It seems you're very popur here," Zidane quipped with a smirk.

  Gao Shen shot him a side-eye, his expression saying, Feel free to take this kind of "popurity" off my hands.

  He wasn't surprised, though. He had long been a thorn in the side of Inter fans.

  After all, the easiest way to avoid being hated by rival supporters was to pose no threat to their team. But that was never Gao Shen's style.

  ---

  "Good to see you, Gao!"

  Mourinho's voice rang out even before he reached Gao Shen, his haended iing.

  "Hello, Mr. Mourinho," Gao Shen replied with a smile as they shook hands.

  Gao Shen genuinely admired Mourinho.

  Winning the Champions League with Porto and revolutionizing the Premier League with Chelsea, those aplishments were undeniably impressive.

  More importantly, Mourinho's Inter Min would soon reach the peak of his career, and Gao Shen respected that.

  Mourinho's teams were among the few that could genuinely pete with Guardio's Bara during their dominance. While critics might call Mourinho's tactics overly servative, Gao Shen believed they were simply the most effective way to ter Barca's style.

  This uanding made Gao Shen's admiration for Mourinho sincere.

  Mourinho was taken aback by this.

  As someone skilled in reading people, Mourinho had envisioned tless sarios for his first meeting with Gao Shen. But he hadn't expected to see genuine respe the young coach's eyes.

  "When I was studying at Loughbh Uy, my cssmates and I would often talk about you and Chelsea," Gao Shen said warmly. "A few times, we even sidered making the trip to Stamford Bridge to watch yames."

  The siy in Gao Shen's voice was unmistakable, and Mourinho could feel it.

  If Gao Shen had cimed he couldn't get tickets, Mourinho would have dismissed it as fttery. Stamford Bridge rarely sold out during Mourinho's tenure. But Gao Shen didn't say that, he simply said they hadn't gone.

  Mourinho found himself nodding, believing every word.

  ---

  Zidaanding nearby, couldn't believe what he was witnessing.

  Just minutes earlier in the locker room, Gao Shen had been rallying the team, urging them to take down Mourinho's Inter Min. Zidane was sure Mourinho had dohe same with his pyers.

  A, here they were, chatting like old friends.

  From the Premier League to La Liga, and then to Serie A, the two coaches moved seamlessly from oopic to aheir versation flowing effortlessly.

  Zidaood in stunned silence, a single word fshing in his mind: Admiration.

  ---

  "I hear you like to invite opposing coaches for a drink after home games?" Gao Shen asked suddenly.

  Mourinho paused, then nodded. "When I win, yes."

  "But don't worry," Mourinho added with a grin. "I've prepared a good bottle of wine for tonight."

  Gao Shen smiled back. "That's thoughtful. But you might want to give me your number in case we 't get in touch ter. I fot to mention—I don't drink."

  "You don't drink?" Mourinho asked, surprised.

  "Not a drop," Gao Shen replied early. "But don't worry. I brought my own preparation, a bottle of water for me and a good bottle of wine for you. We'll toast after the game."

  Mourinho's smile froze.

  "You've got a way with words," he said, f a ugh.

  "I prefer my own wine," Mourinho added quickly.

  "But you might not get the ce to drink it tonight," Gao Shen shot back with a pyful smile.

  Mourinho stared at him, his eyes narrowing. "Alright the's see who's drinking tonight."

  "Deal," Gao Shen replied. "After the game, we'll toast."

  Mourinho nodded, but deep down, he couldn't help but feel skeptical.

  Does this kid really think he beat me?