After nding in Geneva, Gao Shen, Ai, Spalletti, and Mourinho stepped out of the airport to find a private car waiting for them. The vehicle took them around the picturesque shores of Lake Geneva before heading north.

  All four Serie A managers had received invitations to the summit.

  Uhe seasoned veterans among them, Gao Shen was a rookie in the Champions League. The entire journey felt fresh aing to him. Everything he saw seemed new, and the idea of visiting UEFA's headquarters filled him with anticipation. In his mind, it was bound to be an impressive and grand pce.

  However, after recalling his past experience visiting the Italian Football Association's headquarters, Gao Shen tempered his expectations. The reality of those pces often didn't live up to their lofty reputations. He had heard simir pints about the English and Spanish Football Association headquarters, which were said to be far less grand than one might imagine.

  "José, ter you must introduce me tuson," Gao Shen suddenly said, turning to Mourinho, who was sitting in the back seat.

  Mourinho g him, clearly unimpressed. In exge for this introdu, Gao Shen had promised Mourinho two bottles of fine wine. Perhaps it was the ret victory that softened Mourinho's stance, but the shameless Puese finally admitted that Gao Shen's wine was indeed good, though he still pined about its price.

  "Rex," Mourinho said with a disdainful look. "With my friendship with Ferguson, it'll be no problem."

  But Gao Shen wasn't vinced. Looking at Mourinho's expression, somethi off. Did he truly have a good retionship with Ferguson? Somehow, it didn't seem reliable. But then again, Gao Shen thought, it didn't matter too much, he hadn't actually purchased the wi.

  Ai, always cheerful, chuckled at their banter, while Spalletti found it equally amusing.

  It was rare to see someone openly express their admiration for Ferguson as Gao Shen had. Though Ferguson undoubtedly had his share of admirers due to his legendary career, most kept a respectful distance. But Gao Shen, being only 28, was unapologetically did.

  "What's so funny?" Gao Shen asked, unbothered. "Is it embarrassing to be a fan of Ferguson? I grew up watg his games."

  He articurly nostalgiaer United's famous treble-winning season in 1999. Gao Shen vividly remembered their miraculous eba the Champions League final against Bayern Munich. That was the stuff of legends.

  "Besides Ferguson, who else do you like?" Ai asked, smiling.

  "I like you too," Gao Shen replied early.

  "Really?" Ai's smile grew wider.

  "Of course! The 2005 Champions League final was unfettable. A true cssic!"

  Ai's face immediately darkehat year, his A team had lost to Liverpool in one of the most dramatiebacks in football history. It was a wound that had never fully healed.

  Spalletti and Mourinho were both struggling to hold back their ughter.

  Though Ai avehat loss in 2007, some scars simply never fade.

  "Gao Shen," Ai warned, his tone pyful but firm, "if you ever bring that up again, we're done."

  Gao Shen ughed. "Yoing to break up with me? Who'll py cards with you tonight if I'm not around?"

  At that, Ai defted.

  For all his aplishments and refined demeanor, Ai had a surprisingly simple weakness: he loved pying cards. And not just occasionally, he was borderline obsessive. If you searched his pockets right now, you'd likely find a deck of cards ready to go.

  In Min, he'd already worked hard to rope Mourinho and Spalletti into pying cards with him that night. If Gao Shen bailed, he'd have to resort to asking Ferguson, "Sir Alex, do you py cards?"

  The mere thought was ughable.

  Amidst the jokes and bahe group finally arrived in Nyon.

  Teically, UEFA's headquarters wasn't iy ter but in the southern suburbs. To the west of the road y a football stadium, while to the east stood UEFA's headquarters, led on the sic shores of Lake Geneva.

  Stepping out of the car, Gao Shen wasn't particurly impressed by the building, though he wasn't disappointed either. It was a modest three-story structure with a white exterior, and modern, but nothiravagant.

  Still, pared to the Italian Football Association's outdated facilities, this was a clear upgrade.

  As they arrived, UEFA staff came out to greet them. Despite being closest geographically, they were the st to arrive. Fortunately, it was nearly lunchtime, so the timing was ve.

  Just as Gao Shen was about to head inside, he noticed two familiar figures standing on the grass not far from the entrance, deep in versation. One ep Guardio, and the other was her than Sir Alex Ferguson—the man Gao Shen had been eager to meet.

  Seeing his idol, Gao Shen's face lit up.

  "Guess I just saved two bottles of wine!" he excimed, hurrying over.

  Mourinho froze for a moment, fused by Gao Shen's cryptic remark. Then, following his gaze, Mourinho spotted Ferguson and Guardio. Realization dawned, and frustration immediately followed.

  "Damn it! This sneaky kid…" Mourinho muttered. He looked exactly like a realtor whose t had just gone behind his back to close a deal. Furious and helpless, he stomped inside, muttering under his breath, "Save the wine? I'll get it myself tonight!"

  Meanwhile, Ai and Spalletti exged amused gnces and shook their heads. These two were impossible.

  Gao Shen, for all his inexperience, had a knack for versation. Approag Ferguson, he joihe discussion politely, expressing his long-standing admiration. He made it clear he wasn't just a professional peer but a true fan of Ferguson's legacy.

  Initially, Gao Shen had thought getting Ferguson's autograph or a photo would be a challeo his surprise, Ferguson weled him warmly—perhaps even more enthusiastically than he'd anticipated.

  "You know," Ferguson said, smiling, "I was just talking about you with Pep. Over the past few weeks, I've watched a lot of your Napoli matches. Your team isn't just strong tactically; the pyers reflect a disciplined and creative approach that speaks volumes about their coach."

  Hearing this, Gao She a little light-headed. Was Ferguson being sincere, or was this just fttery? Either way, it didn't matter, it was a pliment from Ferguson, and that alone was enough to make him feel proud.

  Wasting no time, Gao Shen took out his phone, snapping photos and even exging tact details with Ferguson. It was a whirlwind of a moment: selfies, autographs, and shared numbers all in one go.

  In truth, what Gao Shen admired most about Ferguson wasn't just his tactical mind but his character and influence. Reading books about Ferguson could teach you his methods, but meeting him in person was something else entirely.

  As they chatted, Gao Shen learhat Ferguson and Guardio had been discussing him moments befuardio, now managing Bara, was navigating a rocky start to the season, having lost his first La Liga matancia.

  When Gao Shen asked about it, Guardio brushed it off, saying, "It's nothing I 't handle."

  Still, Gao Shen could sense a slight shift in Guardio's demeanor. Managing a top club seemed to have matured him, making him more self-assured.

  "By the way," Guardio asked, "have you prepared your proposal for tomorrow?"

  "Proposal?" Gao Shen blinked, fused.

  Guardio chuckled knowingly. "At these UEFA Elite Coaches Summits, there's a tradition. On the sed day, everyone is asked to share some suggestions, big or small. It's a standard part of the event."

  "Sometimes, UEFA uses the summit to float ideas for new reforms or rule ges. They value input from coaches," he added.

  Realization dawned on Gao Shen. So this wasn't just a w event, it also served a practical purpose.

  "Is there a specific scope for the proposals?" Gao Shen asked.

  Guardio hesitated, then looked at Ferguson, who had attended tless such summits.

  "There's no hard limit," Ferguson said. "Anythied to football is fair game. Some people even take the ce to criticize UEFA openly, though that's a risky move."

  Ferguson's amused tone made Gao Shen wonder: had Ferguson himself ever been one of those critics? It certainly seemed possible.

  Still, Ferguson reassured him. "Don't overthink it. Most of the obvious suggestions have already been raised over the years. Just e up with something reaso's more about participating than anything else."

  Gao Shen mulled this over and quickly settled on an idea. It didn't o be groundbreaking, just enough to show he was engaged.

  "What are you pnning to propose?" Guardio asked, curious.

  Gao Shen smirked. "That's a secret."

  Ferguson, intrigued but stonewalled, raised an eyebrow. His expression was so amusing that Gao Shen couldn't resist snapping a photo.

  "If I ever write an autobiography," Gao Shen thought, "this picture will definitely make it in. Who would believe Sir Alex Ferguson could look so curious?"

  ***

  Support me on patreon to read 50+ advanced chapters: patreon./Blownleaves.