The online world was still reverberating from Ling's equalizer and his audacious celebration.
The comments flowed like a river.
[This goal was so satisfying, and that celebration was absolutely domineering! "Shhh!"]
[Shut up, all of you! He silenced the Bridge!]
[The link-up between two young talents—it just feels so full of vitality! That pass from Pogba was illegal.]
[Watching young Chu play has one downside: it's easy to lose sleep over his incredibly explosive dribbling. My heart rate is 140.]
[Last time I saw Ling's side volley, I subconsciously tried to mimic it in my dream and ended up kicking my wife hard. Spent the next week on the couch. Worth it?]
[Manchester United's tactical adjustments were crucial too. That switch to a wider shape opened the lanes.]
[If you watch the replay closely, Ling's positioning was further forward than usual, right between Chelsea's second and third defensive lines. He was in the 'half-space' making it hard for defenders to read. High IQ.]
Back on the pitch, the match referee hurried over, pulling Ling back onto the playing surface and away from the frothing crowd.
He shook his head slightly.
'This kid really has no fear—so young and already daring to provoke home fans. Doesn't he worry about sparking a violent incident?'
Still, the referee felt a private disdain for the Chelsea fans' behavior.
After all, Mourinho had brought them so much glory, and now they turned their backs on him.
It simply wasn't right.
But he had a game to manage.
Not far away, Antonio Conte wore an extremely grave expression.
His hair transplant looked threatened by the stress.
He called N'Golo Kanté to the sideline.
"N'Golo," he barked in Italian-accented English. "Focus on marking that kid later. Forget the zone. If necessary, drop deeper. He is the danger."
"Understood, boss!" Kanté nodded firmly.
After covering for Bakayoko earlier, he had quickly sensed something was wrong, but by the time he tried to turn and chase back, it was already too late.
It seemed he had still underestimated Manchester United's new number 7.
Then again, anyone worthy of wearing that jersey couldn't possibly lack genuine quality.
On the pitch, Paul Pogba proudly slung his arm around Ling's shoulders.
"If it weren't for my brilliant pass, you'd never have scored!" he grinned, his gold tooth flashing.
"Mhm. Sure, Paul," Ling nodded, suppressing a laugh.
Looking back, Pogba's ability to shake off defenders in his own half, perform a Marseille turn, and pick out that pass was truly exceptional.
A player worth over a hundred million certainly wasn't just for show.
If he could temper his stubborn streak and play like this every week, his future achievements might be limitless.
The Manchester United players gathered around, laughing and celebrating the equalizer.
Their morale was steadily rising, each man brimming with renewed energy.
In contrast, the Chelsea players seemed deflated, haunted by memories of their poor league form.
Soon the match resumed.
Manchester United abandoned their deep defensive block.
Smelling blood, they pushed their formation higher up the pitch and initiated an aggressive press.
Cesc Fàbregas appeared impatient.
Pressured by Lingard, he opted for a risky passing lane in an attempt to slice through United's defense.
But his former teammate, Nemanja Matić, read his intentions perfectly.
He intercepted the ball midway before spreading it wide to the left.
Ashley Young drove forward along the touchline.
Ling's positioning was particularly clever—his extensive tactical study and the "Bergkamp Module" had sharpened his game intelligence, and it showed.
From a bird's eye view, he was positioned in Kante blind spot, several yards ahead of Azpilicueta and Christensen.
It seemed as if he was trapped in Chelsea's defensive web.
Yet it was the four defenders who were truly uncomfortable.
Their attention was overwhelmingly drawn to him.
Kanté felt especially frustrated—Matić, who usually stayed deep in his own half, had suddenly surged forward to join the attack, creating an overload.
If Kanté dropped back to mark Ling, he'd effectively be surrendering the midfield.
If he didn't... In simple terms, Ling had become a thorn lodged in Chelsea's most vulnerable spot.
On the left edge of the penalty area, Ashley Young cut inside onto his right foot, drawing Azpilicueta out to cover.
He slipped a diagonal pass into the box.
That left only Christensen and Cahill as Chelsea's center-backs inside the area.
Ling, Lukaku, and Mkhitaryan attacked like three arrows loosed at once.
Unfortunately, Lukaku's header was too precise; it grazed the outside of the post and rolled out for a goal kick.
The Chelsea players broke out in a cold sweat.
They were rocking.
Conte could no longer remain seated.
A few minutes later, he noticed Eden Hazard's energy levels had dropped sharply—he could no longer produce effective dribbles.
He brought on Willian to replace him.
Conte thought to himself, 'I told you to cut back on the burgers, Eden, but you never listen. Now you've run out of steam when it matters most.'
Mourinho responded in kind, introducing Jesse Lingard for the tiring Mkhitaryan to add fresh legs and disrupt Chelsea's midfield structure with his chaotic running.
In the 76th minute.
Pogba carried the ball forward from deep, combining with Valencia in a quick one-two before driving directly into the half-space.
Kanté had just intended to provide support when he caught a glimpse of Ling in his peripheral vision.
He hesitated.
Seizing the opportunity, Pogba delivered a through ball into the left channel.
Ling made a diagonal run, but Cahill's defending was downright shameless—he practically stuck his head under Ling's armpit, using his immense strength to shepherd the youngster away.
The two tangled for several seconds before Ling managed to send in a lofted pass, though the quality was far from ideal.
Lukaku, holding off Christinsen, took a snap shot with his weaker right foot.
Facing his Belgian national teammate, Thibaut Courtois performed as brilliantly as ever, leaping to parry the ball away.
On the touchline, Mourinho pointed at Kanté, and Ling immediately understood his message.
'Drag him away.'
Just five minutes later.
Manchester United continued to advance down the right flank.
Pogba drove forward with the ball, while Lingard positioned himself intelligently between Kanté and Bakayoko, drawing both players' attention.
The left flank's attacking approach differed significantly from before.
Ashley Young made a rapid, decoy forward run, with Matic advancing parallel to him.
Meanwhile, Ling dropped back near Lingard, pulling Christensen out of position and creating space behind Chelsea's defensive line.
At that moment, the effectiveness of Manchester United's dual-striker system became evident.
Romelu Lukaku was completely unmarked in the channel!
And Pogba's vision was simply world-class.
Leaning slightly back, he struck the bottom of the ball with his right foot.
Smack!
With a crisp sound, a beautiful arc traced through the rainy London air as the ball dropped perfectly into the vacant space behind the defense.
Lukaku charged onto it.
He wound up and unleashed a thunderous strike with his left foot.
The ball flew straight into the top left corner, leaving Courtois rooted in disbelief, before nestling into the back of the white net.
1-2!!!
After scoring, Lukaku didn't celebrate with exaggerated gestures like Ling had.
He simply pumped his fist and walked back to the halfway line, head down.
After all, Chelsea was his former club—the club that had sold him—and he wanted to show some respect, avoiding the label of "ungrateful."
But his eyes burned with vindication.
Martin Taylor: "THE BALL IS IN! Manchester United have turned it around!"
"After adapting to the formation, Manchester United's attacks have grown increasingly fluid, and this goal is the perfect demonstration! The movement, the pass, the finish!"
"Moreover, we can see Pogba's importance to Manchester United. He possesses the dribbling and playmaking abilities that Herrera and Matic lack. That pass was a invitation!"
Gary Neville: "Never giving up—the lads at Manchester United have shown us what the Red Devil spirit is all about! From 1-0 down at the Bridge to 2-1 up!"
After the match resumed, Mourinho made his intentions clear.
He made no hesitation in substituting Jeremy Ling and Ashley Young, bringing on Daley Blind and Marouane Fellaini.
He was building a wall.
He clearly intended to defend the lead with his life.
Conte, naturally unwilling to lose in such a manner at home, launched an all-out attack in a desperate last stand.
"Push! Push!" he screamed.
But Chelsea soon realized that Manchester United wasn't merely "parking the bus."
Instead, they set up multiple layers of interception in midfield, combined with intense physical challenges.
Simply put, the players could pass, but the ball couldn't.
Within just ten minutes, Pogba and Phil Jones each received a yellow card for tactical fouls, breaking up play and frustrating the hosts.
In the stands, Chelsea fans watched the familiar "Mourinho Masterclass" tactics with gritted teeth, continuously booing.
They hated it because they recognized it.
It was the same steel that had won them three titles.
The match ultimately concluded with Tiemoué Bakayoko clearing the ball into the stands with a shanked long-range shot.
Peep! Peep! Peeeep!
Chelsea 1-2 Manchester United!
Ling, wrapped in a coat on the bench, jumped up.
The mission was complete.
The crowd was silenced.
The curse of the No. 7 was a little lighter tonight.