Two days later, the team wasn't at Old Trafford.
Barring a Youth FA Cup final, the U21s didn't get that privilege.
Instead, they were at Aon Training Complex, five kilometers down the road.
As the players from both teams stepped onto the pitch, scattered applause echoed from the 800-or-so fans who had gathered beyond the railings.
With the Premier League season yet to begin and youth matches being free, it was a decent turnout.
A large portion of them were students and fans.
Even as an academy player, Ling's connection to Manchester United meant he already had a substantial following back home.
The kick-off was scheduled for 7 PM local time.
....
Back in China, it was the early hours of the morning, but one streaming channel on the Huya platform was buzzing.
"Alright, alright, settle down," the streamer said, laughing.
"You all want the United U21 match? Fine, fine, I'll pull it up. Stop spamming the chat."
He switched the feed, and the comment section instantly flooded.
-[Lads, I heard Ling might get a first-team contract this year. True or false?]
-[God, I hope so. We have literally no one in the top five leagues right now.]
-[So what? Remember Dong Fangzhuo? He got a contract. Didn't make a difference.]
-[Sigh, Dong. He went to England carrying all our hopes and just... fizzled.]
-[Nah, it's different. Dong was a transfer. He had issues with personality, language, culture... Ling grew up in the academy. He's one of them. He has a real shot.]
-[Don't get your hopes up. West Ham's youth team is stacked. They'll walk this.]
-[Ooh, there's Rice! What an interception.]
-[That kid is the real deal. Chelsea letting him go was a massive mistake. He'll be in their first team by September.]
-[No doubt. You're probably watching a future 100-million-pound player right there.]
.....
On the pitch, Declan Rice passed to a teammate and continued his run forward, joining the attack.
His intent was clear: use quick, fluid passing to pull United's defense apart.
Manchester United's shape immediately tightened.
Ling was no exception.
He immediately dropped back, tucking into the midfield line.
This was non-negotiable.
Mourinho demanded a high defensive work rate from everyone, regardless of their talent.
It was this exact demand that, in Ling's first life, would eventually ignite the civil war between the gaffer and Paul Pogba.
Rice's skill was obvious.
A few quick passes later, a gap appeared in United's left channel.
Rice got the ball back, thirty yards out, and struck it.
Crack!
The ball sliced through the defense like a surgical knife, perfectly weighted.
West Ham's young forward, Kina, made a clever run, ghosting in from the blind side.
Kina controlled the ball, turned, and created a yard of space.
He wound up his right leg to shoot—
CLANG!
The ball hammered off the crossbar.
"What?! How did he... he hit the bar!" the streamer yelled. "Wow. United got lucky there."
United's keeper, Kieran O'Hara, gratefully clutched the ball and immediately looked for his outlet.
He saw the signal and, without hesitation, threw the ball long toward the left flank.
West Ham's attack had overloaded that side, leaving their own right flank exposed.
Ling, who had been anticipating this, was already in position.
This was the plan.
Defend deep, absorb, and on the counter, be lethal.
Amid scattered cheers, United's players surged forward.
Ling controlled the ball with ease, turned, and drove forward.
Knowing his raw speed wasn't his greatest asset yet, he laid it off to Angel Gomes in the center.
Gomes, remembering Faria's instructions, played a quick one-two with McTominay, drawing the defense in before spreading the ball wide again to Ling, who had continued his sprint.
"United's counter is flowing smoothly!" the streamer noted. "This is classic Mourinho. Simple, fast, direct."
On the sidelines, Rui Faria remained expressionless, but his eyes were fixed on Ling.
He recalled Mourinho's last order: 'See if he is a lion in training, or a lion in a game.'
'Well, kid?' Faria thought. 'Show me.'
West Ham's full-back, Luis, closed in aggressively.
He knew the type.
'Asian players,' he thought, a smirk on his face.
'A bit of pressure and they panic. They lose control'
He was already planning his overlapping run after he won the ball.
As Luis lunged in, Ling made his move.
It wasn't a step-over.
It was a rapid, rhythmic sway of his entire upper body.
Left, then right. A feint so fluid it looked like an unstoppable pendulum.
Luis's balance shifted for just a microsecond, his weight moving to his back foot.
It was all Ling needed.
He exploded to the opposite side, the ball seemingly glued to his boot, leaving Luis stumbling on the grass.
-[HOLY CRAP!]
-[THE PENDULUM DRIBBLE! RONALDINHO-STYLE!]
-[WHAT WAS THAT?!]
Ling continued his sprint, driving hard toward the byline.
He drew the center-back toward him, and just as the defender committed, Ling coolly cut the ball back across the face of the goal.
The striker, Josh Bohui, was all alone at the edge of the six-yard box.
It was a tap-in.
He calmly slotted the ball into the net.
1-0, Manchester United.
A roar erupted from the modest stands.
In the live stream, the chat went wild.
-[That was served on a silver platter! My grandma could have scored that!]
-[United took the lead?! Unbelievable. There go my channel points.]
-[THAT PENDULUM WAS SICK!!]
-[Ling's improvement is insane! He looks so confident!]
-[This is what the first team is missing! A winger who can BEAT a man!]
-[Calm down, guys. The future '100-million-man' Rice hasn't even woken up yet. He'll equalize.]
After celebrating, Deeney jogged back, giving Ling a surprised look.
They'd played together for a year, but... that... that was new.
The move was so effortless, the touch so perfect.
"Well done!" Deeney yelled, patting him on the head.
McTominay ran over, his eyes wide.
"Ling, that was incredible! Listen, next time you get it, I'll make a run to the top of the box. Look for me, yeah?"
Ling just shook his head, smiling.
"Stick to the plan, Scott. Your job is to defend. If Faria sees you bombing forward, he'll have your head."
McTominay's face fell, but he knew Ling was right.
At United, especially under Mourinho's philosophy, every player had a clearly defined role.
You did your job. No exceptions.