Chapter 269 (Part 2)

When he said "outside," it was actually just a small lounge on the other side of the hall. There was no one else there, making it a good environment for a private conversation. Once the door was closed, there was no need to worry about someone suddenly barging in.

Sitting down on the sofa in the lounge, head coach Ancelotti spoke first: "I also wanted to find an opportunity to talk with you. I think there are some misunderstandings between us, but not as exaggerated as the media says. We need to communicate."

Zhang Jun nodded. He wasn't sure whether he should be proactive and casual, or serious and earnest.

"So, you should know the general situation now, right? Milan has already won the league championship. Next season, our goal will still be the league championship and the European Champions League title. Also, we don't want to give up the Italian Cup easily. This requires multi-front operations, but our forwards are not enough. I still hope you come back; we need you. I've also watched the recordings of your games in Florence. I'm very happy that you've regained your form. Milan still has a place for you."

Zhang Jun didn't know how much truth there was in Ancelotti's words. He never read the news, so he didn't know that Ancelotti had indeed told reporters, including Chinese reporters, that he hoped Zhang Jun would return to Milan. Now, with Fiorentina as his leverage, and with his third-place ranking on the Serie B top scorer list and twenty-one goals in half a season as bargaining chips, he could also negotiate terms with Ancelotti.

"Then can the team guarantee my starting position?" he asked. The information contained in this question was very clear: if he didn't start, he would leave.

This caused Ancelotti to fall into a period of contemplation. Zhang Jun didn't disturb him, waiting for an answer with an indifferent attitude. Even if Ancelotti refused, he wouldn't suffer any loss, because he was actually hoping Ancelotti would refuse, so he had proposed a somewhat excessive condition.

As expected, Ancelotti frowned and considered for a while, then gently shook his head and said: "That's impossible, Zhang. You know, Pippo has been in very good form for most of this season, and he is an important reason why we were able to win the league championship. I don't want to deceive you with beautiful lies, but after you come, when Sheva and Pippo are not injured, you can only be a substitute… but, I can guarantee that you will be the first substitute on the forward line, and in some games, I will use rotation, and your playing time will not be short."

Ancelotti was an honest man, and he was being truthful. Otherwise, he could have nodded and said okay to keep Zhang Jun around.

This time, Zhang Jun knew that Ancelotti was telling the complete truth, but he also completely lost hope in his future in Milan. He was already forty years old. With his talent, if he had started playing professional soccer from the beginning, he would have already been a quasi-superstar, like Adriano, like Rooney. But he still had to fight for a starting position, proving himself on the bench while watching time slip away.

He also knew that Sheva and Inzaghi were in good form, and Borriello was definitely not his opponent, but was there any point in fighting to be the top guy on the bench? He wasn't sure how long he would have to wait to become a starter, to no longer live in the shadow of Sheva and Inzaghi. He believed that the best and most convenient solution was to take the initiative to leave.

"Sir, I can't accept this condition. My requirement is still the same: if you can't let me start, I'll leave. In fact, there are many teams that are very interested in me now. I hope you and the club can understand my situation," Zhang Jun said directly, making his intention to leave clear. He wanted to hear Ancelotti's opinion. If he agreed, they could part ways amicably; if he didn't agree, then they would have to take a hard line. Zhang Jun secretly gritted his teeth, mentally preparing to tear off all pretenses.

Ancelotti once again fell into contemplation. He wasn't surprised by Zhang Jun's request to leave, because everything had been foreshadowed. As a coach, he also knew very well that forced melons are not sweet.

When Rivaldo came to Milan back then, although he had the honor of being a former World Footballer of the Year, he couldn't integrate into Milan's tactical system and didn't gain Ancelotti's favor and trust. In the end, he had to terminate his contract voluntarily after a year and a half and transfer to another team.

Was Rivaldo not as good as any player in Milan's existing lineup? No, it was just that Rivaldo was naturally suspicious and needed absolute trust in order to repay the team with absolute good form and good results. In Barcelona, he was the undisputed midfield core, and it was only because coach Van Gaal didn't trust him and didn't like him that he was forced to leave Barcelona.

Zhang Jun was very similar to him in that he could only perform when he was the core. Ancelotti wasn't stupid. Through Zhang Jun's completely opposite performances in Milan and Florence, he knew that Zhang Jun was the same type of player as Rivaldo. But he could be the attacking core in Florence, but not in Milan. He didn't have the fame of Sheva and Pippo, nor was he a direct descendant of Milan's youth training like Paolo. How could he be the core?

Since he couldn't let him be a starter or a core, should he really let him go?

As a coach, of course he could force Zhang Jun to stay, then have him take a high salary, sit on the bench, and completely ruin a player. But was there any point in doing that? He didn't have any deep hatred for Zhang Jun, so why be so ruthless?

He decided to try his best to persuade Zhang Jun to stay: "Although you will be a substitute for a while, you can completely make it to the starting lineup through your own efforts. You do have the strength, you just need some opportunities."

Ancelotti's temper was really good. If he had encountered a coach like Ferguson or Van Gaal, the answer would have been absolutely concise and without room for negotiation: "If you don't want to do it, then leave." It was always the players who obeyed the coach. When a conflict occurred between the player and the coach, in the end, it was often the player who left, not the coach. That's why Stam and Beckham left Old Trafford one after another, Rivaldo said goodbye to Camp Nou, and Ronaldo left the Bernabéu.

Zhang Jun shook his head—saying no seemed to be his theme today—and said, "But sir, I can't even wait for one game now. I'm in good form now, and I can't think of any reason why I should be a substitute. And good form needs to be maintained through games. I don't think sitting on the bench will maintain my good form."

What he said made some sense, but for Ancelotti's good intentions, he still said, "I can't even wait for one game," which was almost unreasonable, almost forcing Ancelotti to refuse to keep him in Milan.

This was the effect that Zhang Jun wanted. He was forcing Ancelotti to say with his own mouth: "Then okay, you can transfer."

Ancelotti pondered again—pondering had become his main theme today—he was already starting to weigh whether the loss of keeping Zhang Jun was greater than the loss of letting him go. However, he did possess the qualities of an excellent shooter. But there were many players of his level in the world of football. Not to mention the distant ones, but just this season, Gilardino, who was frustrated in Juventus, and Bojinov, who was still fourth on the top scorer list in a small team like Lecce, were both great. If he kept Zhang Jun, judging from his personality and the way he handled things, he would become a ticking time bomb in Milan's locker room. This was what Ancelotti was most worried about. Milan enjoyed a good reputation among fans for its unity and few locker room scandals, but Zhang Jun's arrival had already changed all of this. Just look at his performance last season and you'll understand.

Yang Pan and Kaka found it difficult to work in the team because of him. In the long run, it was hard to guarantee that the team would not be torn apart because of him.

After carefully weighing the pros and cons, Ancelotti decided to give up on Zhang Jun, after all, the team was far more important than the individual. He had no problem, but he didn't know if Galliani would be willing to let him go. After all, Zhang Jun was the one Galliani had taken a fancy to, and the one he had strongly recommended for the transfer. Now, he was demanding to leave after only playing half a season for Milan. This was truly ironic.

Ancelotti ended his contemplation and sighed to Zhang Jun: "If you insist on leaving Milan, then I won't force you. I am just a coach and cannot interfere with a player's personal wishes. But you need to talk to the president. I think he may not let you go."

Zhang Jun felt relieved that the coach had agreed. Ancelotti was indeed a good person, and he didn't want to fall out with him. "Is the president available today?" Now, only Galliani remained.

"I don't think he will see you at this banquet today. You need to find another time."

"Okay, I've already made an appointment."

Ancelotti got up and left. There were still many people waiting for him outside. When he reached the door, he turned his head and said to Zhang Jun: "I personally respect your choice, although I don't agree with it. I want to say that you have a lot of potential, but you need to grasp it well. If you ever want to return to Milan in the future, as long as I am still the coach of Milan, I will welcome you." He still didn't promise Zhang Jun a starting position.

Zhang Jun smiled at Ancelotti: "Thank you."

This was a sincere smile. Through this conversation, he felt that Ancelotti was a very sincere person and not as bad as he had previously thought. Because they had little contact, he had always felt that he was somewhat unapproachable. Now it seemed that he was a good person. Unfortunately, it was too late to say anything, his honeymoon period with Milan was over, and his mind was made up to leave.

Ancelotti opened the door and walked out, and the noise outside instantly flooded in, buzzing in Zhang Jun's ears, making him upset. Fortunately, Ancelotti quickly closed the door again. The room suddenly became quiet. The sound insulation of this door was very good.

Zhang Jun wasn't in a hurry to get up. He relaxed his tense body and nerves, slumped on the sofa, and raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Although the air conditioner was on, he was still sweating a lot. It was really tiring just now, mentally tiring.

Ancelotti said that Galliani wouldn't see him today, so his mission today was considered complete, and the result wasn't bad. Now he had to consider how to persuade that bald president Galliani, who was known for his cunning.

This kind of thing should have been handled by an agent, but Hua Jie was currently in Germany handling An Ke's affairs, and he couldn't wait any longer, so he had to come himself. But to let a player deal with an old fox who had been in the football and business circles for many years, to be honest, even if he tore off all pretenses, Zhang Jun didn't have the confidence to achieve his goal.

Forget it, there was no use thinking about these things now. Zhang Jun decided to get up and leave. But at the moment when his hand grasped the doorknob, he hesitated for a moment, whether or not he should continue to stay here to attend this banquet. His only purpose had already been achieved, what was the point of staying? Pirlo said that when the banquet here was over, the whole team would be invited to the C-side dance hall opened by Gattuso, Abbiati, and Brocchi, and the revelry would continue until the early hours of the next day.

For most of the people in the Milan team, Zhang Jun's relationship with them was not as good as his relationship with his Fiorentina teammates. He was the kind of person who only opened up in front of friends, so now he felt a little out of place, let alone reveling without any consideration.

But whether he wanted to participate in the revelry or not, he had to open this door and walk out first, right? Zhang Jun shook his head, turned the doorknob, opened the door, and walked out.

That noise came crashing back, and the same upset feeling, like a slippery snake, climbed onto his body.

Pirlo said that Zhang Jun had helped the team win the winter championship, which led to Milan's final championship. Even if he hadn't received an invitation, he was qualified to come, and he should come. Because until now, until he talked to Galliani, he was still 100% a Milan player. But why, when Zhang Jun looked at the lively scene in front of him, did he always have the intention of hiding himself in an unknown corner?

There was still a wall, a transparent, invisible wall, standing between him and them. Zhang Jun didn't know when this wall was erected, but it was this wall that made him unable to get close to these people, to feel the "warmth of Milan as a big family."

Just as Zhang Jun was about to turn around and leave, he unexpectedly saw two people on the road, no, it would be more appropriate to say a couple.

Ilaria D'Amico was holding Inzaghi's arm and greeting the people next to her, and the two of them would occasionally whisper intimately. It seemed that the misunderstanding had been resolved, and they were very happy.

Zhang Jun breathed a sigh of relief, but he didn't want to meet them two at this time, in this occasion, in this mood. Just as he looked around, trying to find a place to hide, he heard Inzaghi calling him.

To be honest, Inzaghi was also surprised to see Zhang Jun, but he still generously went up to greet him. The different performances of these two people just proved that Inzaghi was a man, and Zhang Jun was still a boy.

Zhang Jun knew that he couldn't hide. Who told him to wear such casual, light-colored clothes that made him so conspicuous in the black suits? He had no choice but to turn his head and greet the two of them. He smiled a little awkwardly, but he couldn't see the slightest shadow of embarrassment on Inzaghi's and Ilaria's faces. Ilaria even took the initiative to step forward and greet him with a cheek kiss, and Zhang Jun's neck stiffened again.

Inzaghi spread out his hands: "I know there were some misunderstandings between us, but the misunderstandings have passed, and I don't want to damage our current relationship because of the past." Then he extended his hand to Zhang Jun.

Zhang Jun knew that this was a signal that Inzaghi was taking the initiative to reconcile, but in fact, he and Inzaghi only had misunderstandings and competition on the field. Privately, he had never resented Inzaghi for anything. Zhang Jun also extended his hand, and the two shook hands. Ilaria took two glasses of red wine from the waiter and handed them to the two of them respectively.

They raised their glasses again, and then drank.

"We all know about your wonderful performance in Florence, and I'm also looking forward to next season."

Inzaghi was saying that he was looking forward to Zhang Jun returning to Milan next season, and that they would work together to win the triple crown.

Zhang Jun smiled: "I think so too." What he was thinking was that he was looking forward to the day when he would return to San Siro as a Fiorentina player next season.

While Zhang Jun and Inzaghi were exchanging pleasantries, Ilaria stood on the side, not saying a word from beginning to end, and occasionally greeting acquaintances passing by. She was still wearing a low-cut dress, and looked no different from half a year ago.

Zhang Jun didn't take the initiative to ask her how she was doing. No matter how generous a man was, he would still feel a little uncomfortable seeing his woman chatting and laughing with other men. Zhang Jun was trying to avoid suspicion.

After sending off Inzaghi and Ilaria, Zhang Jun looked at the red wine in his hand, which he had only taken a small sip of. Just as a waiter passed by, he put the wine glass back on the tray.

When he looked up again, he unexpectedly saw Kaka at a glance, and Yang Pan next to him.

He froze for a moment, but still took the initiative to go up and say hello. Since he had seen them, how could he avoid them? Although he felt guilty towards Kaka, he was, after all, a friend of many years. It would be too unkind to leave without even saying hello.

Zhang Jun didn't choose to turn around and leave, and he was right, because Yang Pan had already seen him. If he didn't come up to say hello, he would die miserably when he went back. It was still the same reason, who told him that his beige T-shirt was too conspicuous?

"You brat actually knew to come? Yang Pan and I waited for you at home for a long time." They were indeed waiting bitterly at home. "You only said that you would come back today, but you didn't say the specific time. So it turns out that you ran directly here to attend the celebration banquet?" Kaka thought that Zhang Jun was here to attend the celebration banquet, which made him very happy.

Unexpectedly, Zhang Jun shook his head: "I just came to find Ancelotti, talk to him, and now I'm planning to go home."

The smile immediately disappeared from Kaka's face: "Why? Wouldn't it be good for everyone to have fun together?"

Zhang Jun shrugged: "I'm too tired today. I came directly from Florence, and I can't hold on any longer. I know that we still have to go to the dance hall opened by Gattuso and the others and revel until dawn, right? In my current state, I would have fallen asleep long ago."

Kaka was about to say something when a woman wearing a snow-white, off-the-shoulder dress came over and asked him to sign her autograph. Kaka immediately smiled, took the paper and pen, and signed for her. After signing, he handed the paper and pen to Yang Pan, asking him to sign as well. After Yang Pan signed, the woman didn't even look at Zhang Jun next to him, and directly said thank you to the two of them and went to find other Milan players.

Zhang Jun smiled wryly in his heart. For many people here, they didn't know him, didn't know who he was, and treated him as if he didn't exist. Although he didn't care much, it more or less showed his awkward situation in Milan now.

Interrupted by that woman, Kaka didn't know how to continue. Yang Pan stood on the side and didn't say a word. He knew that if there was anything to ask, he could go back and ask slowly, there was no hurry. Seeing that neither of them was speaking, Zhang Jun decided to say goodbye for the time being, go home, call Sophie, and then take a shower and go to sleep.

"Then you guys have fun, I have to go back first, and sleep. I can't even open my eyes now, I don't want to crash into a tree while driving."

Yang Pan reached out and gently hit Zhang Jun: "Don't say such unlucky things!" This was his first sentence after seeing Zhang Jun today.

Zhang Jun smiled, then waved goodbye to the two of them and turned to walk outside.

People had already taken their seats, and Italian Prime Minister Berlusconi was preparing to take the stage to deliver a congratulatory speech. Zhang Jun turned his head and glanced at them. Yang Pan and Kaka had also found a place to sit down. He didn't see that bald fat man, maybe he was having a meeting with some sponsor or political figure.

Although under public pressure, Berlusconi had resigned as the chairman of AC Milan, with Galliani taking over as chairman. But Berlusconi was still the largest shareholder of Milan, and everyone knew very well that AC Milan was still his team, and many things needed him to make decisions. This was why Ancelotti still didn't dare to use his preferred and more effective single-forward, Christmas tree formation, because Milan's "Taishang Huang" (Grand Emperor) Berlusconi didn't like it.

So Berlusconi was still the first to deliver a speech at this celebration banquet.

Zhang Jun wasn't interested in this kind of leader's speech, he turned his head and continued to walk outside. But at the door, he was stopped by an old man: "Waiter."

Zhang Jun didn't think at first that the word "waiter" was calling him, but the old man directly grabbed his clothes, which made him react. He wasn't angry either, stopped, leaned over, and said to the man in English: "Sir, is there anything I can do for you?" The authentic London Oxford accent made him feel very proud.

The old man looked up at Zhang Jun, seemingly still wondering why there was a British waiter at this banquet. The lights near the door were dim, and he couldn't see who the person in front of him was. In fact, even if the light was sufficient, this old, near-sighted old man might not be able to recognize the long-haired man in front of him.

"Can you pour me a glass of wine?" The old man pointed to his empty goblet.

Zhang Jun turned his head and looked at the food cart less than a meter away from him. There was a bottle of red wine in the ice bucket on it. But he didn't want to pick up the wine bottle and pour it for him. Just then, he saw a waiter walking over, and the tray in the waiter's hand was holding the red wine he had just taken a sip of.

"Okay, I'd be happy to help you, sir." He reached out and took his glass of wine from the tray of the passing waiter, and then poured it into the old man's glass.

The old man looked stunned, so shocked that he couldn't speak. Zhang Jun ignored him, poured the wine, put the wine glass aside, and then turned and walked straight out.

When he walked out the door, he could still hear Berlusconi's voice coming from the microphone: "...I am proud of you, you are the undisputed kings of Italian football! We are witnessing the birth of a great dynasty!"

"Clap clap clap!" Warm applause immediately rang out.

The night sky outside was dyed red by the fireworks above Piazza del Duomo. The black night sky served as the background, and the red fireworks were decorated on it. This was exactly the main color of Milan.

The Milanese really thought of everything.

Zhang Jun smiled and walked towards the outside of the castle. The castle, which was occasionally illuminated by fireworks in the night, was like a beast with fierce eyes shining from time to time, making Zhang Jun feel a little depressed, as if this nearly 600-year-old castle would collapse at any time and crush him. It wasn't until he walked out of the gate of the castle and saw the police lights on the police car that the feeling disappeared.

He wasn't sure yet whether he could persuade Galliani the day after tomorrow, but he knew that his heart was no longer in this city, in this team.

AC Milan was very good, Inter Milan was also good, Juventus, Lazio, and Roma were all good, but he wasn't suitable for any of them, nor would he go. He just wanted to stay in Florence now. At the celebration banquet for the successful promotion, Mr. Della Valle said that he wanted to give Florence the qualifications to enter the European arena next season. Zhang Jun didn't know whether this European arena referred to the European Champions League or the UEFA Cup, but no matter what it was, Zhang Jun wanted to help him, to help Florence win what they wanted.

This could also be considered as repaying Florence's kindness in recognizing his talent.

On this AC Milan celebration night, Zhang Jun was in Milan, but his heart was in Florence.