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Chapter 110: Injury Time
🕑 Added 2025-08-01 16:20:11 +0000 UTCWenger had been in a foul mood lately. With the season over, Arsenal were now deep into the transfer window.
First came the departures—selling off unnecessary players to recoup funds.
Gervinho, Vito Mannone, and Djourou were either transferred out permanently or sent on loan to get playing time.
After a disappointing season, Wenger had seen enough from Gervinho. The experiment was over, and the Ivorian winger was moved on.
Djourou had already lost his place in the squad. If he didn’t shine during his loan spell, the club might just cut ties altogether.
Mannone hadn’t impressed either and was now surplus to requirements.
In total, Arsenal parted ways with 17 players through transfers and loans.
Among them were notable names like Andrey Arshavin and Francis Coquelin.
But while the exits were sorted, the arrivals were proving far more difficult.
Despite having around £60 million to spend—more if you factored in money from sales—Wenger’s targets kept slipping through his fingers.
His main focus was the back line. Arsenal’s midfield was stacked, but the defense remained a problem.
Mertesacker, without Kai beside him, looked increasingly exposed. Wenger knew reinforcements were urgent.
First, he set his sights on Atlético Madrid’s Demichelis—but the Argentine turned him down flat. Manchester City had swooped in with promises Arsenal couldn’t match.
Then came a battle with Tottenham for Vlad Chiricheș. After some tug-of-war, Chiricheș chose Spurs, lured by higher wages.
Wenger was fuming.
Even in midfield and attack, he hit wall after wall: Jesús Navas, Kevin Strootman, Isco, Neymar—all out of reach.
He even inquired about Neymar, but the price tag was absurd. Simply unaffordable.
Rejection after rejection left Wenger exhausted—and frustrated.
"What, other clubs are allowed to sign superstars and we’re not?" he grumbled behind closed doors.
Meanwhile, Kai had become one of the most talked-about names of the transfer season. Though Arsenal weren’t looking to sell, the offers kept coming.
Chelsea came first. After Mourinho returned to Stamford Bridge, he immediately launched a campaign to sign Kai.
The bids rose from €25 million to €40 million, but Arsenal didn’t budge.
Not satisfied, Mourinho took to the media, claiming that under his guidance, Kai would develop into a world-class Champions League midfielder. He criticized Wenger’s handling of Kai, arguing the young star should be molded into a defensive midfielder.
Despite the noise, Arsenal held firm. In the end, Mourinho had to settle for Marco van Ginkel.
Across Europe, the transfer market was in chaos.
Mourinho and Guardiola had both left La Liga—Mourinho to Chelsea, Guardiola to Bayern. Barcelona entered their post-dream-team era, with Vilanova struggling to step into Pep’s shoes.
Real Madrid, ever the spenders, had sacked Mourinho and brought in Carlo Ancelotti, who immediately snapped up Bale and Isco.
By contrast, Arsenal’s only incoming transfer was Flamini—back at the club on a free, mainly as backup for Kai.
....
T/N: Conversations are in Mandarin.
London Suburbs
In Front of a modest two-story home, Kai and Zheng Xin stood outside, taking in the sight of the new place.
It was Kai’s newly rented home—modest, affordable, and just a 15-minute drive from the training ground.
Most importantly? Cheap.
£550 a week in rent.
“Come over for dinner tonight, Brother Zheng!” Kai smiled, clapping Zheng Xin on the shoulder.
Zheng Xin had found the house after a bit of searching, though he remained confused.
Aren’t footballers supposed to live in bigger houses? Why this place?
“Let’s grab some basics first,” Zheng Xin said, peeking inside. “There’s literally nothing here except a bed.”
“Let’s go,” Kai agreed.
They hopped into a black Audi Q7—a used one Kai had just picked up from Vermaelen.
The captain was upgrading his ride, and Kai had snagged the old one at a friendly price: £20,000.
They swept through the supermarket. Zheng Xin, familiar with living solo, knew exactly what to get. Thanks to his guidance, Kai was done in no time.
Back home, they gave the place a deep clean.
It was compact—about 50 square meters over two floors—but well located. There was a sports field behind the house, a gym nearby, and a big supermarket just 300 meters away. Everything he needed was within walking distance.
That evening, Zheng Xin prepared a feast.
Originally, Kai had offered to cook. But when he started boiling chicken breast like it was plain pasta, Zheng Xin quickly took over.
Kai didn’t complain. He dug in with gusto.
“Brother Zheng, your cooking’s good!” Kai grinned, giving a thumbs-up.
“Sichuan cuisine, the real deal,” Zheng Xin replied proudly. “How’s the injury, by the way?”
“Nearly healed,” Kai said. “I’m heading to the base tomorrow for recovery training.”
“That’s a relief.”
Zheng Xin wasn’t the only one concerned. Fans across China had been holding their breath over Kai’s condition.
Originally, all four overseas Chinese players—including Kai—were set to play together in the Asian qualifiers.
But due to injury, Kai missed training camp and the matches.
Still, with strong performances from Wang Yi, Chen Man, and Fernando, China qualified.
Even so, the midfield lacked balance without Kai. Wang Yi and Chen Man lacked support, and Fernando often had to compensate by linking them up.
The disconnect between midfield and defense was painfully obvious.
After the match, national team coach Liu Hongbo praised the squad’s efforts—and addressed Kai’s absence.
He explained that the national team had contacted Kai, but his injury had kept him from returning for training.
However, Kai had already been formally called up and would wear the No. 4 shirt for the national team.
Kai was still disappointed. The injury had come at the worst possible time.
“You’ll go straight to the World Cup next,” Zheng Xin said with a grin. “Just stay healthy. Coach Liu’s worried about you.”
“What’s he like?” Kai asked, genuinely curious.
Zheng Xin thought for a moment. “He started out doing youth training. Took over the national youth team in 2002 and rose through the ranks to become head coach. He helped the team qualify for multiple World Cups. Wang Yi was one of his early students. He’s a veteran coach, 68 now—but sharp as ever. Not rigid, very approachable, and gets things done. The Football Association and the General Administration trust him completely.”
He added with a smirk, “The current FA president? He was one of Coach Liu’s students.”
Kai went quiet for a second, then raised his chopsticks.
“Brilliant.”
