Chapter 114: A Feast of Madness and Slaughter! Jonathan, You've Been Getting Bold Lately!
January 1st, afternoon. Wembley Stadium.
When Hatem stepped out of the Wembley Park Underground station with his wife and two children, they were met with an overwhelming sea of people.
His eldest daughter, Kaya, was visibly excited.
"So many people, Mommy, Daddy!"
Kids love a crowd.
Hatem and his wife exchanged smiles.
Looking at the bustling crowd of people from all walks of life, they felt a sense of warmth and familiarity.
Hand in hand with their children, the couple joined the flowing tide of humanity heading north toward Wembley.
In the UK, their names alone made it clear—they were North African immigrants.
They had come to the UK as university students and completed their PhDs there.
Now both worked middle management positions at a multinational company in London. They lived in Notting Hill, in West London.
Yes—the same Notting Hill with the famous bookstore from the movie.
Their home was close to the bookstore and the iconic Portobello Road Market.
Hatem had loved football since childhood and was a lifelong fan.
He and his wife had actually met during a university football match.
During their courtship, their favorite date activity was watching football games—Chelsea, Arsenal, the England national team, even lower-division sides like QPR.
For them, it was like going to the movies.
After marriage and having children, they settled in Notting Hill, but had far less time for football.
Until recently—now that their kids were older, they finally started planning outings to the stadium.
The first match of the Christmas season they went to was at Stamford Bridge.
Boxing Day.
All four of them sat in the east stand at Stamford Bridge and watched in awe as Bayswater China crushed Chelsea 5–0. The shock lingered with them long after.
Unlike the angry diehard Chelsea fans, the Hatem family felt more awe than outrage.
They were stunned by Bayswater China's fierce, relentless attacking football.
And of course—by Arshavin.
Then, on the 30th, they went back to Stamford Bridge.
This time, Chelsea drew 2–2 with Fulham.
The match was dull. The kids didn't enjoy it.
So what game would they watch next?
The kids weren't interested in Chelsea anymore—"They never win, it's boring."
Arsenal vs. Charlton?
Should be a win, right?
Or maybe Fulham vs. Watford?
Or—Bayswater China vs. West Ham?
When their mom mentioned the player who scored four goals in one game—and proposed going to see him, plus check out that £800 million stadium everyone was talking about…
The kids erupted with joy.
Living in Notting Hill, no one was a stranger to Bayswater China.
Hatem's family, for example.
They lived just a kilometer from the Bayswater Stadium—walking distance.
Recently, the community had been buzzing with news about the stadium's upcoming reconstruction and how it might affect local travel. Residents were being asked to show understanding and support.
Bayswater China had even sent representatives into the neighborhood to explain the plans.
The City of London had decided to renovate Queen's Road, and they believed it would benefit all residents north of Hyde Park.
Why?
Because when people think of Notting Hill, they think of that Hollywood movie, the carnival in late August, the pastel-colored houses, the whimsical atmosphere.
That's exactly why Hatem's wife chose to settle there.
But after moving in, many residents and local businesses felt a kind of disconnect.
If London symbolized sophistication and depth, then Notting Hill felt… loud and showy.
Many years ago, it was a neighborhood for immigrants.
To many native Brits, Notting Hill had a certain gritty, "hipster market" vibe—cheap, chaotic, not quite their style.
This was a stereotype, of course.
Outside of the late-August carnival and the weekend markets, Notting Hill wasn't exactly a tourist hotspot.
More importantly, Portobello Road, just half a kilometer long, was home to over a thousand shops.
Most of the time, it was locals outnumbering tourists.
A third-party research firm hired by the city concluded the root issue: Hyde Park's northern neighborhoods lacked tourist appeal.
In simple terms, they couldn't pull the crowds from Knightsbridge and Hyde Park South to the north side.
That's why the city saw Bayswater China's new stadium project and the Queen's Road renovation as a game changer—something that could finally attract foot traffic to Hyde Park North.
Hatem was all for it—after all, it would raise the value of his property.
Like most Notting Hill residents, he signed the support form.
Word was, the club's community survey had passed with flying colors.
Just this past Christmas, Bayswater China had sent staff into local neighborhoods to deliver gifts to elderly residents, kindergartens, and primary schools. They had also visited children's hospitals to cheer up young patients who were stuck there for the holidays.
The residents around Notting Hill were thoroughly impressed.
Which was why Hatem and his family were on the tube to Wembley today.
...
Hatem had bought a family pack—two adults and two discounted kids' tickets, plus complimentary souvenirs.
Following the directions printed on their tickets, they entered Wembley.
From the start, it was an overwhelming experience.
Because the stadium was absolutely massive—and gorgeous.
No wonder it cost £780 million to build.
"Bayswater China must pay a fortune to rent this place," his wife murmured in disbelief.
Hatem nodded. "No doubt. The stadium alone, plus all the staff and services… One match must cost a ton."
Even the police presence outside far exceeded what they saw at Stamford Bridge.
They entered through the designated corridor and quickly found their seats.
They had splurged on level-two side-stand seats—expensive, but the view was excellent.
Since they were early, they visited the retail area in the back.
To their surprise, there was a full-on supermarket, bars, and even hot food counters.
Possibly because this was the family section, they even had a dedicated children's play area.
"This is amazing," his wife said, watching the kids laugh and play.
Hatem nodded again. "Completely different from any other stadium."
He hadn't been to Arsenal's new stadium yet, but compared to Stamford Bridge, Highbury, and the others, nothing had this kind of setup.
The kids played for a while with other children in the area.
Then, before heading back to their seats, the family bought snacks and drinks—essentials for keeping the kids calm during the match.
The tickets came with basic food options, but not enough.
When they returned to their seats, the stands around them were already packed.
"Look at all the people!" Kaya shouted, thrilled.
Hatem was stunned too.
Weren't the papers always saying Bayswater China struggled to fill Wembley?
It sure didn't look like it.
Oh, right—if you looked carefully, there were still quite a few empty seats.
But in a stadium that seats 90,000, drawing this many people was already a remarkable feat.
Especially for a club that had only recently been promoted from the lower leagues.
When Hatem and his children found their seats, they noticed that many others around them were also families—just like theirs.
Several of the kids had even played together earlier in the family play area, making the whole section lively and full of energy.
The adults made small talk too.
And to their surprise, many of them admitted this was their first time watching a game here.
"This is my first time too, but my next-door neighbor comes to every match."
"Where's he coming from?"
"Hounslow."
"Isn't there a fairly well-known club there… what's it called again?"
"Brentford."
"Right! So why come all the way to Wembley?"
"It's just more exciting! My neighbor used to be a Brentford fan, but apparently, he heard a song online and saw a video promo—and next thing you know, he was coming to Wembley. He even convinced us to try it."
"Is the team really that good?"
"They've gone three and a half years unbeaten—starting from League Two to now!"
"No way…"
"I swear."
"That's seriously impressive."
"Yeah. Of course, it's not just about winning, it's about the experience. But if they win, that's even better."
"Exactly. Honestly, all the other stadiums were sold out, so we thought we'd try here. If it's good, I might even get a season pass and start coming all the time."
"Tube's convenient, the stadium is huge and comfortable, and the atmosphere looks great."
"My neighbor said there's a singer coming out soon. Make sure to listen."
"A singer? Someone famous?"
"I read about it—Adele. Not super famous yet, but people say her voice hits your soul."
"No way, that intense?"
"There she is! Look, in the black dress, a little chubby—that's Adele!"
Just then, the stadium exploded with applause and cheers from Bayswater China's fans.
Many of them were already chanting her name.
Adele had been performing at Bayswater China matches for a year now. She was already one with the crowd.
"Hello, my lovely Bayswater China fans—good afternoon!"
The atmosphere soared.
As Adele began to sing, her soulful, captivating voice truly felt like it reached into every corner of your soul, piercing and resonant.
Since her album was still in production, she usually picked well-known covers to perform.
Of course, licensing had to be handled, but that wasn't a problem.
Fans couldn't help but sing along.
Especially when she began "Dream It Possible."
As she hit the chorus, the entire stadium burst into a full-throated singalong.
The energy, the unity—it was electric.
It sent chills down your spine, the kind that made every hair stand on end.
When Adele finished her final song and exited the stage, it was nearly time for kickoff.
The stadium announcer began reading out the starting lineups.
Alan Curbishley, a well-known manager in England with over a decade at Charlton, stuck with a traditional 4-4-2 formation.
However, the team's biggest names—Tevez and Mascherano—were nowhere to be seen.
The much-rumored Reo-Coker, linked to multiple clubs during the break, did start.
The crowd response to West Ham's lineup was lukewarm—some boos, even.
They were the away side, after all.
But when Bayswater China's players were announced, the roar was deafening.
As the announcer read each name, fans cheered louder and louder.
The atmosphere was off the charts.
Goalkeeper: Neuer
Defense: Leighton Baines, Pepe, Skrtel, Piszczek
Midfield: Young Matic sitting deep, Inler and Modrić in the middle
Forwards: Ashley Young, Lambert, Arshavin
And when they got to Arshavin, the stadium erupted.
The Russian greeted fans in all directions, grinning from ear to ear.
"We also see a familiar face on the bench—Yaya Touré!"
Another wave of cheers.
It was his first time back in the squad after being out injured for a month and a half.
"And look—our young Welsh starlet, Gareth Bale!"
More cheers.
"And now, the pride of London—the Stanmore-born prodigy, Theo Walcott!"
The crowd hit a whole new level of frenzy.
...
Yang Cheng had just returned to the home bench after shaking hands with Curbishley.
He could hear the crowd chanting for Walcott.
He wasn't surprised.
Walcott's hometown, Stanmore, was just northwest of London—about 6 or 7 kilometers from Wembley, and barely 5 kilometers from the Brent training ground.
Local players always fired up the home fans the most.
Even if they were only on the bench.
That's the importance of local talent.
They bring a connection—a sense of pride.
In this match, Bayswater China hadn't fielded their absolute strongest lineup, but they'd put out most of their best.
In the locker room before kickoff, Yang Cheng had given the players just one directive:
Give the nearly 70,000 fans in the stadium today a belated Christmas gift.
Yes, nearly 70,000 people had packed into Wembley tonight.
For Arsenal, United, or even Chelsea, that might not be a big deal.
But for Bayswater China?
This was a historic moment.
Of course, everyone knew this was a surge driven by timing—Christmas, a sparkling new stadium, and the buzz of a surprise title challenge.
Now it was up to Bayswater China to prove they could make those fans stay.
Adam Crozier had done a brilliant job with the matchday experience.
The pre-game atmosphere was fantastic.
But in the end, what mattered most was still the football.
...
As soon as the match kicked off, Bayswater China went for the throat.
It was a blitz.
The whistle hadn't even faded before the tempo was sky-high.
West Ham had done their homework—they knew Bayswater China would try to strike early.
They started cautiously, sticking to defense and counterattacks.
But Bayswater China launched wave after wave of pressure.
The fans were loving it.
It felt like a heavyweight boxing match—and one of them came out swinging like mad, putting everyone on the edge of their seats.
After the emotional pre-match buildup, this kind of intensity sent the stadium into a frenzy.
But counterattacking only works if you can actually defend.
And West Ham?
This season's results.
The players' morale.
Both were shot.
In the 12th minute, Leighton Baines made an overlapping run down the left and whipped in a perfect 45-degree cross.
The ball landed right around the penalty spot.
Lambert rose up, towering over Christian Dailly and Anton Ferdinand, and smashed a bullet header past goalkeeper Robert Green.
1–0!
The moment the ball hit the net, the entire stadium exploded in celebration.
Still a Ferdinand, but Anton Ferdinand was a far cry from his older brother.
After taking the lead, Bayswater China played even more aggressively, while West Ham steadily crumbled.
Just two minutes later, after a pass from Inler, Ashley Young cut inside from the left, shook off his marker, and curled a brilliant shot into the far corner with his right foot.
2–0!
Everyone in the stadium was stunned.
Football could be played like this?!
Unbelievable!
Less than 15 minutes in, and they were already two goals up?
Bayswater China was going all out!
Two consecutive goals completely ignited the crowd. The atmosphere hit a fever pitch.
The home side kept pouring forward with wave after wave of attacks.
The players' tight, crisp passing and individual brilliance left the fans in awe.
Even in today's Premier League, teams that played this level of technical football were few and far between.
Arsenal came close—but their results had been disappointing.
Bayswater China had now become the standard-bearer of possession-passing football in the league, with a style rooted in aggressive attacking play.
In the 30th minute, Arshavin burst forward and got off a shot that deflected off a defender and went out for a corner.
Leighton Baines took the corner, and Skrtel rose above everyone for the header—
3–0!
In the 36th minute, Modrić sent in a killer through ball. Lambert muscled past the center-back, held him off, and slotted it home—
4–0!
...
Yang Cheng stood on the sideline, dumbfounded.
He honestly hadn't expected West Ham to be this fragile.
It didn't make sense.
"They've slipped into the relegation zone, have been on a losing streak, and now they're dealing with the holiday fixture madness…"
Brian Kidd let out a sigh.
Last season, West Ham finished 10th in the Premier League—second only to Bayswater China among the newly promoted clubs.
And this past summer, they signed Tevez and Mascherano. Everyone thought they'd be stronger.
Who could've predicted this?
"Honestly, West Ham did this to themselves. The problem starts with upper management," Yang Cheng said bluntly.
In his eyes, West Ham's collapse should serve as a cautionary tale for all newly promoted teams.
A once-proud club, with an experienced manager, had a strong first season after promotion.
Then what?
They got a bit of money—and immediately tried to trade up.
That part was normal. Yang Cheng had done the same—improving the squad's competitiveness.
But from the record-breaking £7 million signing of striker Dean Ashton in January 2006, to the shocking summer deals for Tevez and Mascherano—that was just the tip of the iceberg.
£8 million for Upson from Birmingham, £4.5 million for Boa Morte from Fulham…
Then Green, Carlton Cole, Lucas Neill, Bowyer…
West Ham essentially overhauled the entire squad in a single summer.
By official estimates, they spent at least £50 million in 2006 alone.
Full reset.
Self-sabotage, plain and simple.
Did they really think finishing 10th last season made them invincible?
Other than the 1–0 home win over Arsenal and the 3–1 season opener against Charlton, their matches had mostly been loss after loss.
Why did they go so crazy?
There were countless theories.
Some said it was part of a larger gamble related to an impending sale.
To this day, the ownership rights for Tevez and Mascherano still hadn't been clarified.
Then came the November sale: West Ham was bought by Icelandic tycoon Magnússon and banker Gudmundsson for £85 million.
Shortly after, Alan Pardew was sacked following a 0–4 loss to Bolton.
Curbishley took over—but things didn't improve.
Whatever the reason, this season was a disaster for West Ham.
Whether they'd even survive relegation was now in question.
...
At halftime, with the result already locked down, Yang Cheng began rotating his squad.
Gareth Bale and Walcott came on.
Yang Cheng also made sure to praise Matic, who was making his first-ever start for Bayswater China.
The young midfielder had impressed.
For players like him, the key was surrounding support—once they found their rhythm and role, progress could come fast.
Arshavin, who had scored four goals against Chelsea, looked like his fire had burned out since that game.
In the last two matches, his energy hadn't been the same.
Perhaps the schedule was catching up to him.
Yang Cheng was considering giving him a short break—a few days off with family to recharge.
In the second half, West Ham's players were simply waiting for it all to end.
But for Bale and Walcott, who had just come on—it was just getting started.
The two young wingers came out roaring.
A still-raging Bayswater China wanted more goals.
The crowd wanted more too.
The more, the better.
In the 53rd minute, Inler delivered a direct pass into the box, causing chaos.
Dailly failed to clear it far enough—it dropped just outside the arc.
Modrić arrived late, brought the ball down with his chest, carried it into the box, and struck with venom.
Straight into the bottom-right corner.
5–0!
At this point, the result was beyond doubt.
The fans were in a trance.
In the 65th minute, Yang Cheng used his final sub: Yaya Touré came on for Modrić.
The Ivorian midfielder was making his return after a month and a half out injured.
The crowd gave him a roaring welcome.
And in the 73rd minute, he made it count—a long-range bomb from outside the box that smashed into the back of the net.
6–0!
Still, Bayswater China didn't stop attacking.
With Touré on the pitch, Matic continued in the holding role.
Since Bayswater China had dominated the entire game, Matic hadn't faced much defensively.
But in terms of organizing the midfield, he showed his class.
Excellent footwork, solid passing—and a background as an attacking midfielder—meant he helped structure the midfield beautifully.
Of course, from his position, it was hard to really stand out.
And this was his first-ever Premier League appearance.
Naturally, he played conservatively—doing only what Yang Cheng told him to, nothing more.
"This kid's really disciplined," Brian Kidd said with a smile.
"He still needs to work on his defensive timing and physicality," Yang Cheng noted—standard issues for young players.
Matic was only 18—not yet at the stage for serious muscle-building.
But defensive awareness and positional training?
That could start now.
"Letting him play the No. 4 role was the right call. It maximizes his strengths."
Brian Kidd was becoming more and more impressed with Yang Cheng's eye for talent.
Just like with Gareth Bale, Walcott, and Di María, who had shined at Old Trafford last match—everyone Yang Cheng trusted delivered.
"Later, arrange for Bale, Walcott, Matic, and Matuidi to start in the FA Cup this weekend," Yang Cheng said. "Oh, and Lewandowski too."
The FA Cup match would be a valuable rest opportunity for the main squad.
Giving younger players a chance was standard practice for the big clubs.
Bayswater China's current squad couldn't realistically handle too many fronts at once.
Letting the young ones play? That was the smart move.
The first team would stay focused on the Premier League and the Champions League.
"Got it," Brian Kidd nodded.
Yang Cheng let out a long breath.
The brutal Christmas schedule was finally over—others could relax now, but he still couldn't.
Because he had to go meet with a few of those damn agents.
Some of them had been getting far too bold lately.
...
Even after going up 6–0, Bayswater China's young guns weren't letting up.
They kept launching attacks, relentlessly threatening West Ham's goal.
The Hammers had truly been hammered.
Then, in the 88th minute, Walcott tried to break into the box with the ball at his feet, only to be brought down just outside by Reo-Coker.
Free kick for the home side.
It was in a great spot—just slightly to the right of the arc, about 23 meters from goal.
With Ashley Young subbed off, Leighton Baines would've normally been the one to step up.
But unexpectedly, young Gareth Bale asked to take it.
And he looked completely confident.
Yang Cheng didn't object.
They were already winning by a wide margin.
The Welsh youngster placed the ball carefully, stepped back with precision, and adjusted his breathing.
The wall was in place.
The whistle blew.
Bale sprinted up and struck with his left foot, curling the ball over the wall.
The arc was a little high, but the power behind it was perfect—it bent straight into the top-right corner of the net.
West Ham keeper Robert Green didn't even move.
7–0!
Nobody in the stadium could believe it.
That was a gorgeous free kick!
The players swarmed Bale in celebration.
The young Welshman turned to the crowd and the broadcast cameras, roaring with pride.
Yang Cheng and Brian Kidd weren't surprised.
Bale had been practicing his free kicks for a long time, and he had a natural gift for them.
"Looks like you've got your hands full," Brian Kidd chuckled.
Now that Bale had scored such a stunner, his name would be everywhere.
Which meant Yang Cheng would be dealing with more pressure—from agents.
...
Bayswater China 7–0 West Ham—a result that lit up the entire English football world.
Everyone was stunned.
Three matches in six days, deep into the exhausting Christmas fixture list, and they still delivered a blowout of this magnitude?
Unbelievable.
But anyone who looked closely at this match—and the previous two—could see the truth:
Yang Cheng had played his cards to perfection.
Every single player had done their job.
And the emergence of the club's young stars only deepened respect for Bayswater China's strength.
It wasn't the final round of the league, but January 1st was a special day—every match kicked off at 4 p.m., and wrapped around 6 p.m.
And not every team had it as smooth as Bayswater China.
Liverpool won 3–0 at home against Bolton.
Arsenal thrashed Charlton 4–0 at home.
But Arsenal's match came with a caveat: Charlton were reduced to ten men after a red card in the 29th minute. It had been 0–0 before that.
Chelsea, however, continued to struggle.
Mourinho's side drew 0–0 away at Aston Villa.
And Manchester United faced a surprisingly tough challenge away to Newcastle.
James Milner scored first for the Magpies.
Scholes hit back with a brace—one right before halftime, one just after.
But in the 74th minute, United conceded again.
Newcastle had been plagued by injuries recently, yet their spirit was sky-high and they fought like hell.
After the 2–2 draw, reports claimed Ferguson blew up in the locker room.
He believed they had surrendered control of the title race.
And with 22 rounds played, Bayswater China overtook United to reach the top of the table.
17 wins, 4 draws, 1 loss—55 points.
United, having drawn, dropped to second with 54 points.
Chelsea had only managed 2 points in 3 matches over the Christmas period—2 draws and 1 loss—now sitting on 45 points.
Arsenal had two wins and one loss in the holiday stretch, adding 6 points and reaching 36 points, sitting sixth.
Liverpool, with two wins and a loss as well, climbed to 38 points, fifth.
Bolton, who had started strong, also held firm—2 wins, 1 loss—and now sat fourth with 39 points.
The Premier League table was getting very, very interesting.
People were starting to wonder—if Bolton could really finish top four, it could shift the whole balance of power in the league.
But no team had performed better over the Christmas run than Bayswater China.
2 wins and a draw—7 points.
More importantly, they overtook Manchester United to go top of the league.
And people weren't just acknowledging their rise—they were starting to believe.
This new leader… was no fluke.
...
But the season didn't slow down.
No time to rest.
The FA Cup was coming up that weekend.
The League Cup match followed on Wednesday.
Yang Cheng planned to use only young players for both cups.
The first-team stars needed to rest after surviving the festive gauntlet.
At the same time, the coaching staff would reevaluate the team's fitness.
These matches had taken a serious toll on the squad.
And the next day, Yang Cheng received great news from Adam Crozier.
Against West Ham, the club had set new records—attendance, matchday retail, and merchandise sales had all hit all-time highs.
Every metric showed the same thing:
Bayswater China was on the rise.
But sometimes, rapid club growth didn't mean the players were keeping pace.
That afternoon, Yang Cheng met with agent Jonathan Barnett in his office.
The moment the famously slick British agent walked in, he was showering Yang Cheng with praise—laying it on thick.
But Yang Cheng wasn't in the mood for flattery.
He got straight to the point.
"Jonathan, you've been getting a little too bold lately."
"How could that be? I've always followed your lead—we've worked together brilliantly, haven't we?"
Jonathan Barnett's first reaction was denial.
"Then what's going on with Ashley Young and Gareth Bale?"
Yang Cheng didn't need to say anything more—Barnett understood immediately and gave a wry smile.
As Bayswater China continued to perform exceptionally well, their players naturally began attracting more attention.
Just like Gareth Bale.
The Sun, famous for its transfer scoops, reported that Bale had already caught the eye of at least eight Premier League clubs.
He was local, young, and talented—of course he was going to draw interest.
And then there was Ashley Young.
Since being shifted to the left wing this season, he had shone brightly, catching the attention of many clubs as well.
Unlike Bale, though, Young was being pursued by the Big Four.
Here was the dilemma:
Bayswater China was developing rapidly, but no matter how fast they grew, they couldn't match the immediate allure of a top club.
How did Yang Cheng know Barnett was involved?
Because The Sun reported that some clubs were willing to offer Ashley Young £50,000 per week—three times what he was earning at Bayswater China.
As for Bale, some clubs were offering £15,000 per week to lure him away.
Realizing the situation was becoming serious, Yang Cheng decided to handle it himself.
Adam Crozier wouldn't be able to manage this one.
"I'll be honest with you, Yang," Barnett sighed.
"Yeah, some clubs have contacted me, but I haven't agreed to anything. Still, the players' families are tempted—that's only natural."
"Take Gareth Bale, for example. You've got Di María, Walcott, and Bale all in similar positions. Who's the club's priority? His parents are concerned about his future. That's normal, right?"
"When a club waves a £15,000 per week contract in front of them, tell me, Yang—if it were you, wouldn't you be tempted?"
Yang Cheng nodded. "Keep going."
"Ashley Young? I had nothing to do with that leak. You know how nosy the press is. But between us, if someone's offering £50,000 per week, even if he trusts me completely, what am I supposed to say?"
Barnett might be a top agent, but at the end of the day, he still worked for his clients.
Everyone knew Bayswater China was in a great position professionally.
But no one builds a career on speculation.
Momentum doesn't mean guarantees.
Even with all their growth, Bayswater China was still years away from matching the stature of the giants.
But if a player had the chance to join a powerhouse now, earn more money—why not take it?
And Barnett? If he clashed with his client, he could be replaced in a heartbeat.
The real issue was simple: the salaries these top clubs offered were ridiculous.
Forget Bayswater China—even Spurs, Arsenal, Everton—none of them could compete.
£50,000 per week? That was mid-tier income at United or Chelsea.
But at Bayswater China, even after a raise, the cap was £40,000.
Spurs' max was £45,000.
Even Arsenal, in Yang Cheng's past life, lost Van Persie to United.
For the title?
Please.
There was no such thing as "title loyalty."
If that mattered so much, why didn't they leave earlier?
Van Persie was on £75,000 per week at Arsenal.
At United? £240,000.
Who could compete with that?
Take the money, maybe win some trophies on the side—who wouldn't go?
"I'll keep it simple," Yang Cheng said, now fully clear on the situation and not interested in dragging it out.
Cutting off an agent's earnings is like killing his parents.
And forced deals never end well.
"I don't want to hear a single word about transfers for the rest of the season. Nothing. No rumors, no leaks, no distractions. Tell him to stay focused. Play hard. I'll let him go in the summer."
This wasn't just for Jonathan Barnett.
It was a message to be passed along—to Ashley Young and his family.
That's what agents were for—to buffer between the club and the player.
If Yang Cheng had to sit down with Ashley Young himself, how would they work together afterward?
The relationship would be awkward and tense.
"I understand. I'll talk to him," Barnett nodded.
Now that Yang Cheng had given the green light, Barnett could start officially preparing Young's summer move.
Everyone would benefit:
The club would get a transfer fee.
Barnett would get his commission.
Ashley Young would get his payday.
Win-win-win.
"Gareth Bale stays. I won't let him leave. We'll renew his deal this summer—£10,000 per week. But I'll include a higher bonus package."
Yang Cheng paused and looked Barnett in the eye.
"You know how much I value him. And don't forget what I told you back then."
"Bale and Walcott—both stay. No one leaves."
Barnett instantly remembered.
Back when he first helped Bayswater China bring Bale and Walcott over from Southampton, Yang Cheng had asked him: "Ever dreamed of managing a player like Wayne Rooney?"
Back then, Barnett thought Yang was just dreaming.
But the pitch was sweet, and he'd bitten.
Over time, with so many other matters, he'd forgotten about it.
But now he realized—Yang Cheng had been talking about Bale and Walcott.
And truthfully, both had developed brilliantly.
Yang had cultivated them with care—and now, they were beginning to show the same stardom Rooney once had.
Barnett nodded slowly. "And Di María?"
"We'll be fighting on multiple fronts. Bale and Walcott alone won't be enough," Yang Cheng shot back.
He had spoken to both Bale and Walcott recently.
They seemed grounded—no complaints, no signs of restlessness.
Which meant the rumors weren't coming from them.
They were coming from their families.
And that was a whole different headache.
These kids were still minors—their parents made most of the decisions.
Bale's family probably just wanted to pressure the club a little.
Yang Cheng didn't mind that. As long as it didn't go too far.
After all, what parent doesn't care about their child's future?
It was perfectly natural.
As for signing Di María—Yang Cheng had his reasons.
The team needed him.
A South American player with exceptional one-on-one ability, Di María was a nightmare to defend—in any league.
Not just the Premier League—even La Liga.
With three players in rotation, the wings would be competitive and secure.
As for Ashley Young?
Yang Cheng honestly didn't think he was that important.
A right-footed player on the left wing, with limited inside-scoring ability—more passes and crosses than goals.
That limited his ceiling.
Di María, on the other hand, had been excellent this season.
He could play either wing and even in the center.
A true multi-functional attacker, someone who deserved investment.
After all, he wasn't just any player.
He was Argentina's Vice Prince of Football.
You don't joke around with that kind of title.
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