Chapter 77

After Cristiano left the field, the game against Birmingham resumed.

It is obvious to the naked eye that Manchester United has become more offensive, and even the defenders have been pressed forward, bringing great pressure to Birmingham players.

But at the same time, it also means that Manchester United's own defense has almost become a decoration.

If the first half of the game was a pleasing show of technology and tacit understanding, then this half was a game that threw away tactics and started just to end the game.

"What a crazy bombardment." The commentator in the broadcast room couldn't help but sigh, "The Red Devils' pressure is too terrible. They almost forced Birmingham to stay in their own penalty area and be forced to defend. Is this what a group of angry Red Devils look like?"

His partner said: "Maybe the Birmingham players should be thankful that they didn't kick Ronaldo off on purpose, otherwise it might not be just like this."

“……” The commentator was silent for a few seconds and actually felt that this seemed very pertinent.

Van der Sar's half seemed to be empty. He stood with his hands on his hips and watched the melee on the opposite side for a while, then looked at Sir Alex Ferguson in the coaching area. He noticed that even Ferguson did not express anything about the current situation.

Rooney's shot flew directly into the audience as if to vent his anger. Birmingham's goalkeeper quickly kicked the ball out, and Birmingham launched the first quick counterattack in the second half.

Seeing this, Van der Sar twitched his lips and knew that these angry Red Devils would sell him sooner or later.

He tensed his nerves, his eyes closely following the ball and the striker who was speeding forward bravely. He slightly arched his back as the opponent approached quickly, ready to attack at any time.

Ferdinand and Keane immediately chased back. Even in the second half, they still retained considerable physical strength and approached the opponent when he was about to break through the twelve-yard line.

The two men were on the left and the right, with an imposing manner. A terrible sense of threat was pressing on the striker who bravely broke into the penalty area alone. He aimed at the goal and shot hard, and the ball flew high into the audience seats.

The striker knelt down on the grass in frustration. This might have been the closest they had ever been to scoring a goal in the entire game.

He said in an interview after the game: "When I got the ball and broke through, Ferdinand and Keane suddenly appeared on both sides of me. God knows how fierce they looked, like two wild beasts, as if they wanted to eat me alive!"

The game ended with Alan scoring another goal in injury time and the team won with a big score.

But no one was in the mood to celebrate. The main team rushed to the hospital immediately after the game. Ferguson and captain Keane had to stay at the home stadium to be interviewed. There were too many questions to be asked about this game.

"How is Cristiano Ronaldo now?"

"We all saw him crying and bleeding. Will this affect his next game?"

"There are the latest..."

Ferguson's face was dark. He thought to himself that if it weren't for these idiots asking these useless questions, he would have gone to the hospital to ask for answers from authoritative doctors in person instead of dealing with these here.

But as the head coach, he has to give a few answers.

When Giggs, Neville and others arrived at the hospital that was in charge of the club by bus, Cristiano had already fallen asleep under the hospital's arrangement, and assistant coach Queiroz was responsible for relaying the situation to the Red Devils.

"Just to be on the safe side, the doctor asked Ronnie to stay in the hospital for one night for observation," Queiroz said. "The wound was sutured and he needs to rest for at least two weeks, which means he may miss the next round of the league and even the Champions League group stage."

"This guy will definitely not agree." Neville said immediately after hearing this. He stood outside the ward and glanced at the boy who was already asleep through the glass window. "He will make a scene if he is not allowed to play in the Champions League."

Giggs subconsciously laughed briefly upon hearing this, and then thinking of Cristiano's current situation, he quickly straightened his lips: "I can imagine that scene, but it's not up to him. Even the boss can't agree to it unless he can get a 100% pass from the doctor."

Queiroz nodded: "I'm afraid so."

Alan couldn't quite imagine what Giggs and Neville said about "Cristiano making a scene". He looked through a layer of glass at Cristiano sleeping peacefully in the ward and asked Queiroz: "So we can't go in now? We can only stay outside?"

After he asked the question, Ferdinand, Giggs and Pique all immediately focused their attention on Queiroz.

"Yes. The doctor said he needs rest, very full and quiet rest." Queiroz nodded and immediately felt a pressure like a needle prick. He couldn't help but scream in his heart - this was not his rule!

"Okay. Poor Cristiano..." Pique said, frowning and looking through the glass window, "So he can be discharged from the hospital tomorrow, right?"

Queiroz felt the pressure shift, he breathed a sigh of relief, and replied: "The doctor will come back to see me in the morning, if there is no problem, I can be discharged in the afternoon."

"Okay, let's go too. There's no point staying here. We're all exhausted. Let's go back and take a shower and rest. We'll talk about it tomorrow." Neville clapped his hands and called the other teammates, "I'll notify the boss and the captain."

Queiroz immediately interjected: "That's right, there's no point in you staying here..."

"Queiroz, will you stay here?" Neville interrupted Queiroz suddenly and said, "Someone has to stay here, in case Ronnie needs anything? Although he speaks good English, that's just for daily life. If the hospital needs something, that's different. He needs someone to take care of him."

Queiroz: “…”

Rooney suddenly remembered: "Didn't you say your wife was away on a business trip? Can you leave those two little brats at home without worry?"

Neville frowned when he heard this. He didn't wait for Queiroz to say anything else and took over the conversation directly: "Then you go back, I'll stay here."

"I'll keep it." Ferdinand said almost at the same time.

Neville simply said, "Then you should come and replace me earlier. It's settled."

Ferdinand said nothing more upon seeing this, but nodded in agreement, while Queiroz took the main Manchester United team back to the bus.

Neville asked the nurse in the inpatient department about the situation and learned that one person could stay in the ward to take care of the patient, so he went to borrow a folding bed.

Just as I had set it up, I saw a figure outside the door.

Neville walked out quietly and saw a tall man wearing black trousers, a black short-sleeved shirt, a black baseball cap on his head, and a black mask on his face.

His eyelids jumped and he subconsciously closed the door first, then stood in front of the door vigilantly staring at the person in front of him.

The young man in front of him quickly took off his baseball cap and mask, revealing a somewhat tired face, but more anxious, and faintly restless, as if he would lose his balance if he was not careful.

"Kaka?!" Neville recognized the face under the mask. He lowered his voice and took a breath. "Why the hell are you here? Aren't you in Milan? "

"I saw the game." Kaka whispered. He clenched his fingers tightly. The stinging feeling of his nails piercing his skin reminded him to organize his words. He took a deep breath, "How is he?"

He was watching the game, and he even took a selfie similar to Cristiano's, planning to post it on social media later - he is always keen on posting some stock photos in a disrupted timeline - so as to avoid being easily discovered by netizens.

But before he could celebrate his lover's beautiful hat trick, he was horrified to see that the other person was kicked down. When he sat up, he covered his face with his hands, and even then, blood was gushing out madly.

This reminded him of the game in his previous life. He took a long vacation because of injury. He was not on the court or even on the bench. His condition was extremely bad at that time and no one believed in him except Cristiano. So he decided to get some fresh air and leave Spain, and he missed that game.

——He was even in a small bar in a foreign country, with noisy background noise, when he suddenly saw Cristiano's eyebrow bone broken and the blood staining his jersey red. Cristiano was receiving stitches on the sidelines without even anesthesia. He just tilted his head and frowned quietly. Without any anger or complaints, he calmly changed off the bloodstained jersey and put on a clean one.

His teammates were standing by, angrily demanding an explanation from the referee, or circling around Cristiano in despair and anxiety.

Real Madrid needed to win the game, Cristiano was their trump card, and they were even one point behind.

Although Cristiano quickly equalized the score in the first half with his intact right eye - his left eye swelled up visibly after being sutured on the spot, either because of the rain or the wound, making it almost impossible to open and see anything - he still scored a goal for Real Madrid.

Kaka was watching on a small TV in a foreign country. He could not do anything. He could not hug Chris to celebrate like his teammates, or kiss Chris as if he was kissing the god of war. He also could not rush forward as soon as Cristiano left the field like other players on the bench.

In the blink of an eye, when he saw such a similar scene again through the square screen, Kaka knew that he could not bear such helplessness.

"He's fine... no." Neville answered subconsciously. He thought the young man in front of him was crazy. He immediately shook his head and stopped talking, then exclaimed in a low voice: "You... you just came here like this!? Damn it, Ancelotti will be mad! Ronnie won't be happy about this either!"

Kaka pursed his lips heavily: "We are playing the game next door. Don't ask about me, how is Chris?"

Neville rubbed his face in confusion, and finally gave up and said, "Stay in the hospital for observation. If there is no problem, you will be discharged tomorrow afternoon."

"Can I go in?" Kaka asked again, looking at Neville.

Neville met the inky black eyes of the young man in the shadow. He panicked for a moment, then came to his senses. He didn't understand where his nervousness came from. He paused, raised his chin towards the door helplessly and said, "Forget it. I'll give you the folding bed."

He guessed that Ronnie would be happier to open his eyes and see Kaka, although he didn't think this happiness would last more than a few seconds after opening his eyes.

Neville watched AC Milan's No. 22 enter Cristiano's ward. He quietly closed the door, touched his nose, and informed Ferdinand that there was no need to replace him early tomorrow morning as the plan had changed.

【Ferdinand:? ? ? 】

[Neville: Ronnie’s girl came over here. Are all young people so reckless in dating? ? 】

[Ferdinand: ... Keane told me that the boss will arrive early tomorrow morning before the doctor's rounds. He wants to hear what the doctor says in person.]

[Neville: ...then pray for Kaka, God will bless his son]

[Ferdinand: You are right]

Kaka moved quietly to Cristiano's side. His lover was lying in the soft white sheets, looking quiet and obedient, with an IV drip hanging on the back of his hand that was exposed. The white cloth under his hand seemed to make that wrist look even thinner and more fragile.

It was difficult for him to control himself from thinking about the nightmare of his previous life. He trembled and gently placed Cristiano's palm on his own.

His lover's hand was much smaller than his own, and it was even more obvious when he held it in his palm.

Because of the IV drip, Chris's hand was colder than usual, and this body temperature made Kaka hunch his back slightly and put the hand on his chest.

Oh my god.

He placed trembling kisses, closely and carefully on the cool back of Chris's hands, fingers and wrists. His lips were warm, caressing the soft skin, trying to raise its temperature and warm it up.

Cristiano felt something unusual. Although his brain was extremely tired and painful - he felt as if someone was hitting his head with a hammer, perhaps the pain had returned - he still seemed to sense something and suddenly opened his eyes.