Starting With Real Madrid

"Zinedine, what do you think?"

After reviewing Inter Milan's starting lineup, Gao Shen turned to Zidane and asked for his opinion.

Zidane thought for a moment before shaking his head. "It's hard to say. It looks like it could be a 4-3-3, but it also resembles a 4-4-2. Zanetti playing as a right midfielder isn't unheard of, and Maicon's attacking ability is exceptional. The two could work together on the right flank."

"You know, our attack on the left has always been strong."

Over the past two seasons, Napoli's left flank had been their sharpest weapon.

Initially, it was the pairing of Gervinho and Vargas. Last season, it transitioned to Di Maria and Vargas, and the attack only became stronger. Vargas even earned the title of Serie A's best left-back.

If Mourinho was using Zanetti and Maicon to suppress Napoli's left flank, it would make perfect sense.

"What about you?" Gao Shen asked Carlo.

"Zinedine has a point, but I also think Balotelli could be playing as a winger. Mancini has used him there before, though it wasn't particularly effective."

Carlo was referring to Balotelli's previous appearance on the wing during the Coppa Italia final.

But could it really be that simple?

Gao Shen wasn't convinced. He decided not to dwell on it.

Now that Mourinho had finalized his starting lineup, it was time to see what his team could do on the pitch.

And Naples? They weren't without their own surprises.

Gao Shen was confident that when Mourinho saw Napoli's starting lineup, he'd be equally caught off guard.

After all, surprises go both ways.

---

In the home locker room at Inter Milan's Meazza Stadium, Mourinho was indeed stunned when he saw Napoli's lineup.

"What the hell is he playing at?" Mourinho muttered.

Napoli's starting XI was as follows:

Goalkeeper: Handanovic

Defenders: Vargas, Cannavaro, Benatia, Lichtsteiner

Midfielders: Hamsik, Thiago Motta, Vidal

Forwards: Sanchez, Cavani, Valencia

Mourinho had correctly predicted that with Biglia unavailable, Thiago Motta would play as the lone defensive midfielder and that Naples would switch to a 4-3-3.

He also knew that Gao Shen's 4-3-3 was synonymous with aggression, fully unleashing the team's offensive firepower. He had suspected that Gao Shen's pre-match humility was a ploy to mask his true intent: to attack.

What Mourinho didn't expect was that Gao Shen would start Benatia at center-back.

That move surprised him—and gave him an unsettling feeling.

Was Benatia really just a player coming off a career-threatening injury, one who hadn't played in over a year?

If that were the case, why would Gao Shen gamble by starting him in such an important match?

And why were Sanchez and Valencia, both primarily right-wingers, starting together?

That could only mean one of them was playing on the left. Most likely Sanchez, given Valencia's proven ability to use his pace to deliver crosses from the right.

It might seem like a minor adjustment, but the tactical implications of an inverted winger were significant.

Now, Mourinho wasn't sure what to expect.

But one thing was clear: Gao Shen had surprised him, just as he had tried to surprise Gao Shen.

---

Despite its global reputation, the Meazza Stadium's facilities were noticeably dated.

The player tunnel, for example, was cramped, forcing the two teams to walk out in staggered rows. Led by referee Saccani, the players made their way to the field.

The roar of more than 40,000 fans greeted them, the atmosphere electric.

Inter Milan fans were especially energized.

This summer, they had hoped Gao Shen would take charge of their team, only for him to decline. To them, it was a slap in the face.

When Mourinho stepped in as his replacement, he immediately won the fans' support. Now, they wanted nothing more than for him to lead Inter Milan to victory, to crush Gao Shen's Napoli, and to start the season with a statement win.

The expectations were sky-high.

Last season's missed league and cup titles needed to be reclaimed, and their disappointing Champions League performance demanded redemption.

For the fans, the journey began tonight—with the Italian Super Cup.

---

As Gao Shen emerged from the tunnel, deafening boos erupted from the stands.

To add insult to injury, white tissues rained down from above, a clear message of disdain.

Gao Shen quickly sidestepped the falling debris, unsure of what unsanitary purposes the tissues might have served.

"It seems you're very popular here," Zidane quipped with a smirk.

Gao Shen shot him a side-eye, his expression saying, Feel free to take this kind of "popularity" off my hands.

He wasn't surprised, though. He had long been a thorn in the side of Inter fans.

After all, the easiest way to avoid being hated by rival supporters was to pose no threat to their team. But that was never Gao Shen's style.

---

"Good to see you, Gao!"

Mourinho's voice rang out even before he reached Gao Shen, his hand extended in greeting.

"Hello, Mr. Mourinho," Gao Shen replied with a smile as they shook hands.

Gao Shen genuinely admired Mourinho.

Winning the Champions League with Porto and revolutionizing the Premier League with Chelsea, those accomplishments were undeniably impressive.

More importantly, Mourinho's Inter Milan would soon reach the peak of his career, and Gao Shen respected that.

Mourinho's teams were among the few that could genuinely compete with Guardiola's Barcelona during their dominance. While critics might call Mourinho's tactics overly conservative, Gao Shen believed they were simply the most effective way to counter Barca's style.

This understanding made Gao Shen's admiration for Mourinho sincere.

Mourinho was taken aback by this.

As someone skilled in reading people, Mourinho had envisioned countless scenarios for his first meeting with Gao Shen. But he hadn't expected to see genuine respect in the young coach's eyes.

"When I was studying at Loughborough University, my classmates and I would often talk about you and Chelsea," Gao Shen said warmly. "A few times, we even considered making the trip to Stamford Bridge to watch your games."

The sincerity in Gao Shen's voice was unmistakable, and Mourinho could feel it.

If Gao Shen had claimed he couldn't get tickets, Mourinho would have dismissed it as flattery. Stamford Bridge rarely sold out during Mourinho's tenure. But Gao Shen didn't say that, he simply said they hadn't gone.

Mourinho found himself nodding, believing every word.

---

Zidane, standing nearby, couldn't believe what he was witnessing.

Just minutes earlier in the locker room, Gao Shen had been rallying the team, urging them to take down Mourinho's Inter Milan. Zidane was sure Mourinho had done the same with his players.

And yet, here they were, chatting like old friends.

From the Premier League to La Liga, and then to Serie A, the two coaches moved seamlessly from one topic to another, their conversation flowing effortlessly.

Zidane stood in stunned silence, a single word flashing in his mind: Admiration.

---

"I hear you like to invite opposing coaches for a drink after home games?" Gao Shen asked suddenly.

Mourinho paused, then nodded. "When I win, yes."

"But don't worry," Mourinho added with a grin. "I've prepared a good bottle of wine for tonight."

Gao Shen smiled back. "That's thoughtful. But you might want to give me your number in case we can't get in touch later. I forgot to mention—I don't drink."

"You don't drink?" Mourinho asked, surprised.

"Not a drop," Gao Shen replied earnestly. "But don't worry. I brought my own preparation, a bottle of water for me and a good bottle of wine for you. We'll toast after the game."

Mourinho's smile froze.

"You've got a way with words," he said, forcing a laugh.

"I prefer my own wine," Mourinho added quickly.

"But you might not get the chance to drink it tonight," Gao Shen shot back with a playful smile.

Mourinho stared at him, his eyes narrowing. "Alright then. Let's see who's drinking tonight."

"Deal," Gao Shen replied. "After the game, we'll toast."

Mourinho nodded, but deep down, he couldn't help but feel skeptical.

Does this kid really think he can beat me?

***

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