"I guessed long ago that you'd treat me to a meal."
At the same restaurant in Old Eyridge where Gao Shen had previously invited Ferguson, he once again met the former Manchester United manager.
Ferguson appeared to be in high spirits, showing no signs of disappointment or defeat.
Manchester United had ended the season empty-handed.
"How did you guess that?" Gao Shen asked bluntly.
Ferguson chuckled, as if watching the Monkey King perform a somersault. "I figured it out from the start. Your tricks are nothing new."
He said it with full confidence.
"Keep boasting," Gao Shen scoffed, refusing to believe him.
"That Guardian reporter outside Old Trafford, is he your friend?" Ferguson suddenly changed the subject.
Gao Shen shook his head. "I don't know him."
He spoke sincerely and confidently, because it was the truth. He really didn't know the guy and hadn't arranged anything.
"If he's not your friend, then he's at least connected to you." Ferguson didn't care. To him, that was still Gao Shen's man.
In fact, Gao Shen taking the initiative to invite him to dinner was proof enough.
It was all part of the same operation.
These kinds of things happened frequently in the football world.
Ferguson had fallen for them before—sometimes willingly, as a strategic exchange of benefits. Other times, he was just unlucky and learned a lesson.
"Honestly, I think the one who regrets it the most now is Ken Bates." Ferguson couldn't help but laugh. "That old guy has spent his whole life scheming against others, as crafty as a fox, but in the end, he got played by you."
"Stop!" Gao Shen quickly waved him off. "I didn't set up Ken Bates."
"So, you're admitting you schemed against Queens Park Rangers?"
"I didn't. Don't accuse me falsely."
"Sometimes, I really wonder what's going on in the heads of these rich people. Why do they think they can handle an industry they know nothing about?" Ferguson genuinely couldn't understand.
Take Tony Fernandes, for example.
There was nothing wrong with investing in Queens Park Rangers. The acquisition price was high, and the Italians made a good profit. Fair enough—they're now a newly promoted Premier League team with significantly increased value.
But the problem started after the takeover. He let a Datuk's son run the club, and then passed it to his Indian son-in-law. Did he really think nothing would go wrong?
Recruitment and spending should follow basic principles.
There were plenty of cases in European football where people jumped in blindly and lost everything.
Why were they all so confident?
Gao Shen couldn't understand it either. In the coming years, a lot of wealthy Chinese investors would also enter the football scene abroad.
Maybe what the rich see isn't the loss from running the club but something else entirely.
Who knows?
Either way, Gao Shen himself didn't have any money left.
"This time, you made 10 million pounds selling Jonathan Howson, and it only cost you 15 million to buy Leeds United..."
"It was 30 million," Gao Shen corrected him.
"Alright, 30 million then. Still worth it, right?"
Gao Shen smiled but didn't object.
In a sense, it was worth it.
But the problem was, he and Fernando Lucas had worked hard for months just to sell Jonathan Howson for a high price of 10 million pounds. That couldn't be considered easy by any standard.
Besides, Jonathan Howson had performed exceptionally well in the Championship last season. Otherwise, clubs like Queens Park Rangers and Norwich wouldn't have offered that kind of money.
It was just like Kasper Schmeichel. He'd been well-known for years, but even now, when Gao Shen made an offer to Tottenham, they had to carefully evaluate and consider it. Was that easy?
Still, Ferguson had a point. The key was that Queens Park Rangers had an owner who was easily taken advantage of.
"To be honest, I really don't understand your transfer moves this year," Ferguson raised his head and looked at Gao Shen.
"What's so hard to understand?" Gao Shen didn't believe him.
Ferguson smiled. "I don't understand why you're specifically targeting relegated teams to poach players."
"Cheap and cost-effective," Gao Shen explained.
Many players have relegation clauses in their contracts.
Generally speaking, when a team gets relegated, their revenue drops sharply. They have to sell players to raise funds.
So Gao Shen was right—it really was cheap and effective to buy from relegated teams.
But the key was being able to find real talent, like Gao Shen did.
"Then how can you be sure they'll succeed?" Ferguson asked.
Gao Shen shook his head. "I'm not sure. For example, I think Paulinho is pretty good, but his price was still high—1.5 million euros. I still feel it was a bit much."
"The Brazilian midfielder?"
Gao Shen nodded.
"Is he that good?"
"Let's open a blind box," Gao Shen said with a smile. "You give me Lingard, and in two years, I'll sell him back to you for 20 million pounds. Deal?"
Ferguson was stunned.
He knew Gao Shen well enough to know the man never did anything without a reason.
Was that Brazilian midfielder really that good?
But soon, Ferguson let out a long sigh.
He believed Gao Shen—but it was no longer up to him.
At Manchester United, his power was being weakened.
Part of it was performance-related. Part of it was age.
Everyone knew Ferguson was nearly 70 years old. How much longer could he stay in charge?
"You don't look like a good person. I'm not falling for your trick!" Ferguson laughed.
But deep down, he felt conflicted.
Had this been years ago, he would've agreed on the spot—and even forced Gao Shen to sign an agreement.
Why?
Because the players Gao Shen truly believed in were rarely duds.
…
As the two ate, the conversation naturally shifted to Leeds United.
The outside world didn't have a high opinion of Leeds United's transfer operations. Even after selling Jonathan Howson for a high price, the club's situation seemed even more concerning.
After all, the higher the player's value, the bigger his role and impact on the team. Not to mention Howson was a national team player.
More importantly, Gao Shen seemed to be specifically targeting relegated teams, which looked a bit outrageous.
Gao Shen claimed it was just a coincidence.
"Just wait and see. There's more to come," Gao Shen said, feeling helpless.
He hadn't planned for it—it was all just coincidence. What could he do?
"What else? Are you seriously raiding relegated teams from every country?" Ferguson also found it hard to believe.
But Gao Shen could only shrug helplessly. He hadn't meant to.
The Championship was different from the Premier League.
The Premier League had 20 teams and 38 rounds. The Championship had 24 teams and 46 rounds. Add in the League Cup and FA Cup, and Championship teams played more matches.
This gave Leeds United more flexibility in terms of squad depth.
Ferguson also brought some good news—Manchester United had agreed to Leeds United's offer for Paul Pogba.
Pogba was talented and had potential, but his value wasn't high—just one million pounds.
Mainly because his contract only had one year left, and Manchester United couldn't promise him a starting role. As a result, Pogba didn't want to renew, and United was willing to sell.
Two years ago, they had brought Pogba from Le Havre for a compensation of 87,000 pounds. Selling him now for a million meant nearly a million in profit. Why not?
"Thanks!" Gao Shen lifted his glass of boiled water and clinked it with Ferguson's wine glass.
Sir Alex still kept his word.
Of course, under the current circumstances, this deal wasn't a loss for Manchester United either.
After all, the Red Devils had never truly focused on developing young players. With the Premier League growing increasingly competitive, it had become even harder to nurture youth talent.
"You need to convince him to join Leeds United. But I believe if you handle it, it'll work out. I really hope to see him play well and maybe return to Manchester United one day," Ferguson said hopefully.
That was likely his personal wish.
After all, he'd gone to France himself to persuade Pogba's family. Naturally, he hoped the young Frenchman would succeed.
"Don't worry," Gao Shen nodded.
"Well, ten million pounds, barely warmed my hand and now it's gone," he muttered.
Ferguson burst out laughing at Gao Shen's grumbling. "You specialize in raiding relegated teams. What are you spending so much on?"
"Sir, you don't know how expensive things are until you manage a household. It cost me two to three million pounds just to renovate the training ground. You've never seen such a terrible facility. No geothermal heating—can you believe that? A northern English club without geothermal heating?"
Ferguson perked up at the complaints.
"That place wasn't even Leeds United's original base. They just planned to stay temporarily. Who knew..."
Yeah, a temporary arrangement ended up becoming permanent.
"Two days ago, we did a full assessment of Elland Road and planned some minor renovations—small kiosks and stalls to improve match-day revenue. Guess what? The budget submitted was over a million pounds."
Ferguson was even more entertained, drinking two more glasses of wine.
Running a football club really was like that—money had to be spent everywhere.
Not just ten million, even thirty or fifty million could vanish in no time if you weren't careful with your budget.
That's why so many rich people who jumped into European football ended up getting scammed, embarrassed, and forced to exit, spreading the idea that football clubs weren't profitable.
But was that really the case?
If they weren't profitable, why would so many people keep coming?
Professional football was an industry. Like any other, it had its own rules and barriers to entry. Some made money, some lost.
So far, Gao Shen hadn't made any real money—but he hadn't lost any either. And as long as the club operated steadily, got promoted to the Premier League, and avoided relegation, his current investment would be more than worth it.
He had this confidence from the moment he decided to acquire Leeds United!
(To be continued.)