Chapter 5

Cristiano stared at his mobile phone, as if he was looking at a dangerous item that could explode at any time.

The next second, he suddenly came to his senses and frantically looked for the mobile phone charging cable in the locker in the locker room.

When the phone was successfully charged with new power, Cristiano was almost so nervous that he vomited.

His brain started to work again, thinking about the phone call that had just happened a few minutes ago.

They won the game, and after a friendly jersey exchange with Manchester United players and thanking the audience, they returned to the locker room, where a party was going on, and Cristiano, who seemed out of place, was still wondering what on earth was going on.

Could it be that God heard the curses he uttered in his heart before he closed his eyes?

He denounced the dogma that everyone loves equally, so why was it that only his love had nothing but thorns and bitter fruits? Fuck it.

People said that he was God's favorite, that God favored him, gave him talents, made him strong, and made him invincible, but he was convinced that these blessings were only for him to suffer torture and pain.

He was given a talent that forced him to witness his teammates and his loved ones leaving the field one after another with regret, while he was still carrying the heavy sail on the green field;

Grant him strength, make him invincible and face endless boos and slanders, make his heart as hard as rock and his will as strong as steel;

Grant him invincibility, imprison his tattered soul in a rotten body, and let everyone leave him with peace of mind.

God may favor him, but never have mercy on him. God is stingy and wraps his own Son with love, but is unwilling for his own Son to give him an ounce of love.

In short, before Cristiano met his death, he cursed God in his heart.

If that's the case, and God sent him back twenty years ago, doesn't that mean... God has a change of heart?

Cristiano walked back to the locker room with his mind wandering. To be honest, he didn't have much space to think about it because his teammates were already almost turning the locker room upside down with the excitement.

He heard his cell phone ringing in the chaos, and he quickly broke away from the crowd, took out his phone and answered it without even looking at it. He knew that the only person who would call him at this moment was Ms. Dolores.

But before Chris could open his mouth, a familiar voice came from the other end of the line - "Cris?"

Chris was almost stunned. Perhaps the voice seemed a little clear, but he could still identify it accurately. It was Kaka!

And Kaka who would call him "Cris"... Chris widened his eyes and couldn't imagine it. His breathing suddenly became heavier and he hurriedly moved the phone screen to check the caller number.

God, it’s really Kaka!

Chris took a breath and tried to respond, but he watched as a battery-depleted reminder popped up on his phone screen and then the phone automatically shut down.

Damn it!

He finally watched the phone charge up some power and the power-on cutscene slowly popped up.

He held his head and couldn't help shaking his legs. Why were mobile phones from twenty years ago so slow to boot up? ! Kaka, oh my god, Kaka…

Chris couldn't help but cheer quietly. He was almost 100% sure that it had to be the Kaka from his world, otherwise the other party wouldn't have his cell phone number.

As for why Kaka called him... Chris didn't think about it. There was only one thought left in his mind: Kaka called him, which was enough to make him happy.

While he despised the joy that was easily aroused, he also wondered, why couldn't he be happy? That was Kaka, Kaka with the same soul as him. God finally had a change of heart.

Cristiano believed that God was trying to make it up to him. Then he should move forward, even though Kaka's dogma may prevent him from taking any further steps...

Chris tried not to dwell on the terrible thoughts that made the blood run cold through his body.

He rubbed his face. If Kaka still wanted to keep his distance, then he could choose not to be lovers but to be best friends. Preferably, the kind of good friends who didn't even think about having a girlfriend.

He pursed his lips, knowing that he was only enjoying the thought in his heart, but the reality was, Kaka could do whatever he wanted, he was just a poor puppet, whoever fell in love first would lose completely, and he was hopeless, he would not feel any regret even if he lost his life.

At most, you will feel a little tired.

However, Cristiano's happiness caused by the phone call did not last long. Someone threw a bottle of water at him from behind, and the water poured all over Cristiano's body - and the phone.

He opened his mouth slightly, staring in astonishment as the phone screen, which was about to finish the boot animation, flickered firmly for a few times and then went completely black.

Cristiano stood up suddenly and turned his head to look over. Before he could see who did it, several big hands rubbed his head and grabbed his shoulders: "Hey Cristiano! Come out and celebrate with us! Don't act like a good boy!"

Cristiano forgot that at that time he was still a poor guy less than 1.8 meters tall who was easily knocked down by a tackle. He had no chance to struggle at all under the hands of his teammates!

Chris was almost stunned.

Is he too weak? !

"My cell phone!" Cristiano waved his hands vigorously in dissatisfaction and tried to resist, but was directly suppressed.

"Come on, buy a better one later! It's time to get rid of your Nokia." The teammate said nonchalantly.

The money for a mobile phone is nothing to them after they won the game.

Cristiano pursed his lips.

But he didn't have the chance to quarrel with his Lisbon teammates again. As soon as they reached the entrance of the tunnel, someone called Cristiano: "Hey, someone is looking for you in the stands, lucky guy."

Cristiano finally had a legitimate reason to get away from those enthusiastic teammates, and he ran away immediately.

"Who's looking for him?" asked the captain.

“That one.”

When Cristiano ran to the stands, he saw Sir Alex Ferguson sitting there, nodding at him with a smile on his face.

Cristiano was stunned for a moment. He knew that Sir Alex Ferguson decided to bring him to Manchester United after this game, but he had the impression that he had never met Sir Alex Ferguson privately before that.

"You know me." Sir Ferguson smiled and looked at the obviously stunned boy in front of him.

Yes, a boy. In the eyes of the old lord, this boy who was only seventeen or eighteen years old was as thin as a chicken and could only be called a "boy".

But it is precisely from such a thin body that seems to be underdeveloped that such dazzling energy bursts out on the court.

Ferguson actually had his eye on Cristiano Ronaldo a long time ago, but he originally planned to reap this juicy fruit a year later when the other party was more mature and stable. However, after watching this game, he quickly overturned his plan.

He was afraid that if he was a step late, this unripe fruit might be picked by someone else.

For example, the fat Italian from AC Milan and Bosque from Real Madrid, don’t think he doesn’t know, these people are secretly watching Chris.

"Sir." Cristiano smiled subconsciously and said, "Who doesn't know you?"

"You looked a little surprised, but not that surprised," Ferguson said.

Cristiano couldn't feel much distance from the Sir Alex Ferguson who was both his teacher and father.

He sat down next to Ferguson and stretched out his legs in a relaxed manner, just like he did on Manchester United's training ground before. He tilted his head and thought for a moment, then answered Ferguson: "Probably because I am good enough and will be one of the best in the future."

Cristiano in his previous life was also so flamboyant and unbridled. He always knew that he was excellent and was never reluctant to show it, even though this often made other people unhappy.

But even in his previous life, when he shouted this in front of Ferguson, he still lacked confidence and looked a little aggressive.

Not like now.

No one would know that hidden under the body of the teenager in front of them is the future top star who will be named the God of the Champions League and the King of the Bernabeu.

Cristiano finished speaking with a smile and calmly. His voice was steady and low. Although his words were so arrogant, they made people believe them.

Sir Ferguson was stunned for a moment, as if he was convinced. The boy in front of him had not yet shown any terrifying power, but his aura was surprisingly mature.

Ferguson laughed heartily. He adjusted his sitting posture slightly, sat up straighter, and extended his hand to Chris: "Then I think we have reached a consensus."

"Yes." Cristiano blinked. "At your service, Sir."

"So which jersey number do you want?" Ferguson asked the little guy in front of him with great interest. He found something very interesting in Cristiano. The two contradictory temperaments of immaturity and maturity did not contradict each other in the boy, which made him want to talk more.

Cristiano looked over, tugged at his No. 28 jersey, and said with a smile, "You already had a plan in mind, didn't you?"

Manchester United's legendary number seven.

And he will return to an even more legendary peak with this number.

Ferguson looked at Cristiano with slight surprise. He did have an idea, but he was sure that this idea was very risky and would bring him and the child unparalleled criticism and pressure.

Therefore, he was still hesitating, thinking that forcing things to grow too fast might ruin a good seedling.

"Number seven. Glory to Manchester United." Cristiano looked at Ferguson, "I promise you."

Ferguson met the boy's amber eyes, and a rare sense of young people's exciting fighting spirit emerged. He couldn't help but lower his head and laughed. He never thought that after seeing so many things, he would be moved by the eyes of young people.

He let out a sigh of relief. He had once been moved by someone and poured all his efforts into him, only to be utterly disappointed in the end.

So what about the young man in front of us?

Cristiano Ronaldo.

Ferguson pondered for a moment, and finally said: "Then, see you at the Theatre of Dreams, boy, I hope you can realize your dream one day."