This was neither the world's most famous Epsom Derby nor the world's most luxurious Royal Ascot. In fact, it was not even any of the five British Classics events in the UK.

Despite being a small-scale horse race, the day of the event still drew nearly 10 thousand spectators. This was enough to see the influence of horse racing within the UK's society.

Ferguson's horse was not participating in the horse races this time. He had come purely for leisurely purposes, and to relax. So, he did not choose to book a luxury box. Rather, he watched the races from the stands.

Before its start, he made a small bet on a horse; it was not a lot of money. As he said to Tang En, "Gambling is for relaxation; money is secondary."

In the end, the horse he bet on became the champion. He earned a small sum of prize money.

"Do you like horse racing, Mr. Twain?" Ferguson led Tang En through the bustling venue to retrieve his prize money.

"I know nothing about it." Tang En shook his head honestly.

"What a pity. I've coached for 32 years, and it's a tiring job. Horse racing is my only opportunity to relax." Ferguson shrugged. "What do you do for relaxation?"

"Drink."

"Drinking is pretty good too." Ferguson nodded. "But, only if it's red wine."

Ferguson looked delighted as he received his earnings from the bet.

With his status and identity, this bit of money should not matter to him. But he still glowed with happiness as he showed his spoils of victory to Tang En.

It is true that Ferguson was nicknamed "the hairdryer" in the confines of the locker room, and that he was cold and merciless in matches as if he was some wild and ferocious Tyrannosaurus rex. But outside the field, he was really a passionate old man with a good affinity with people. While his good relationships in the managerial circle of the English football scene were in part due to the outstanding results of Manchester United, a larger part could be attributed to his personal charm.

When Tang En had first met Ferguson at the reception by the League Managers Association, he was surrounded by a group of people from the same industry, listening to him speak. At that time, Tang En thought they were just people in the field trying to ingratiate themselves with the successful ones; he had felt great disdain for it. But now, he realized it was perhaps due to Ferguson's passionate character.

"400 pounds. It's not a lot of money. That horse was a favored winner. I would rarely bet money on an unpopular horse. It's hard to win unexpectedly," Ferguson said as he looked at Tang En meaningfully. "Let's go have a drink." He pointed to a small bar not far ahead of them.

There were many people in the bar, all of whom were discussing the horse races that had just ended. In the UK, football is the most popular sport among the public, with horse racing being in second.

"How does it feel? Are you seeing a world completely apart from football?" Taking a sip of red wine from his glass, Ferguson's excited face made him seem as if he was already slightly inebriated.

Tang En scrutinized the people around him and nodded.

"I have a question, Tony. Why did you suddenly think to ask me out for a drink?" Ferguson put down his wine glass and looked at Tang En. "I know you're not prone to hospitability."

"It was a whim." Tang En lied without batting an eyelid.

"Then, why didn't you invite Wenger? Hasn't he known you since you were still a manager at the Youth Team?"

Ferguson and Wenger did not get along with each other. Everyone knew that. Tang En was worried that repeatedly mentioning him would make Ferguson's good mood fade, so he waved his hand and said, "This isn't the time for English Premier League talk…"

Ferguson laughed. "So, this must be a big coincidence. I just turned down Nottingham Forest's offer for Ruud van Nistelrooy, and you've immediately called me out for a drink… is there really no correlation?"

Since his intentions were already exposed, there was no point in continuing to put on an act. Tang En shrugged helplessly. "You're not wrong. It is related. And it's extremely important. I really hope that you can sell van Nistelrooy to Nottingham Forest."

Ferguson looked at Tang En with a serious expression. "You're strange, Tony. For a player, you would treat an opposing manager to a drink. You might be the first person ever to do this. Do you know about Manchester United's tradition?"

"Of course. But I don't think we have such an adversarial relationship," Tang En said with a smile.

"That's just not true, Tony. Last season, whose team was it that caused Manchester United to not get into the top two of the EPL for the second time in 18 years?" Ferguson asked, staring at Tang En. His question sounded like an interrogation.

"But Chelsea was the champion for the previous season."

"If I sell Ruud van Nistelrooy to you, the champion for the next season might be you," Ferguson said with a shake of his head. "I insist that Nottingham Forest is gradually becoming a strong competitor that can pose a threat to Manchester United. The Red Devils don't make a habit of selling players to their main competitors."

It should have been a good thing for Tang En to receive the acknowledgment and praise of his opponent. But at this moment, he earnestly wished for Ferguson to look down on him instead.

"That's totally uncertain…" Tang En found this old man to be surprisingly stubborn. He did not have any reason that could use to persuade the man before him to agree to van Nistelrooy's transfer. Furthermore, he did not wish to make himself look overly weak in front of his opponent.

Since it could not be done, he could only give up on Ruud van Nistelrooy and pursue other forwards.

Berbatov had already been signed on by Tottenham Hotspur in a step ahead of them. At that time, Tang En was still embroiled in the despair of having lost the Champions League's finals to Barcelona and was in no mood to care about the transfer market. Before the issue with Anelka, Tang En thought that the capabilities of Forest's forward line were already sufficient and had no need of any new players. However, in order to put pressure on Anelka for him to understand his own situation, Tang En decided to make a bid in the transfer market.

Ruud van Nistelrooy was the most suitable candidate. It was a pity to just give up like this…

But what other way was there?

As Tang En drank mouthful after mouthful of wine from his glass, his brain continuously worked to think up a solution.

It was only when he was wakened by Ferguson that he realized he was pouring an empty glass into his mouth.

"You seem troubled," Ferguson said knowingly.

Tang En felt somewhat awkward, thinking, it's because of you!

Seeing Tang En's expression, Ferguson laughed. He made no effort to cover up his own delight. "Other than the Dutchman, do you have any other choice of forwards?"

Tang En shook his head. "Not at the moment."

"Does that mean I've successfully disrupted the pre-season battle plans of my main competitor?"

"You could say that." Tang En shrugged. He had already given up on the idea of convincing Ferguson. This stubborn old man was not someone he could easily convince. He would treat this as really having invited him out for a drink.

"Alright, I give up." He raised his hands in surrender. "I admit we're your main competitor, a strong foe. We're very likely to threaten Manchester United's position in the English Premier League. Not just that, I think that Forest might also pose a threat to the position of several Premier League teams in the European competitions. My aim next season remains the Champions League. I understand your thoughts about wanting to maintain your own dominance. I can understand it very well. But… even if we are opponents on the field, it's no big deal to have a drink off the field, right?"

"Of course." Ferguson nodded.

Tang En poured himself more wine and raised his glass. "Then, let's not talk about Manchester United or Nottingham Forest today. No discussions on football. Tell me about this horse racing you're so fond of…"

The two really did not have any further discussion of football that day. They did not seem like two managers in opposition with each other in the League, instead looking more like old friends who had not met for years. Ferguson chatted to his heart's content, while Tang En drank with similar enthusiasm.

Both were even somewhat reluctant when it came time to part ways. They agreed to come out together for a drink and watch horse races whenever they had time in the future.

When the two returned to their respective teams, however, this friendship would immediately be put to the side. They had their own masters to serve.

Dunn was the first person to see Tang En.

"Failure?" Dunn knew when he saw Tang En's despondent expression.

"Yeah." Tang En threw himself onto the couch and pinched at his temples, the smell of alcohol dispersing around the room as he did so.

"Are you drunk?"

"No, I'm not drunk."

Hearing Tang En's answer, Dunn curled his lips in doubt. He could not even talk clearly, and he wanted to insist on not being drunk?

"Don't… don't judge me on how I- I'm slurring, but my- my brain- brain… is still clear!"

No one would believe his mind was still clear.

"Tomorrow, tomorrow… tomorrow, give Manchester United a fax… and raise- raise the offer to 15 million… million…" Tang En's voice diminished until there were only snores left.

Upon hearing his final words, Dunn turned to look at Tang En, fast asleep on the sofa.

This was being clear-headed?

He sighed and shook his head.

When Tang En woke up the next day, he found himself already in his bedroom. He squinted as he watched the bright sunlight spilling into the room through the windows.

Another hangover…

Washing up and getting dressed, he had breakfast, with Dunn and rushed to the club to start a brand-new day at work.

The first thing Tang En did was indeed make another offer to Manchester United. His target was Ruud van Nistelrooy.

This time, Dunn was truly taken aback. He had thought that Tang En was only spouting nonsense yesterday when he was drunk. He did not expect him to remember it.

Meanwhile, Kerslake thought Tang En had already come to an agreement with Ferguson yesterday, expressing no doubts.

15 million pounds. That was the new price Nottingham Forest was offering to Manchester United. It was raised five million from their first offer. Tang En was truly persistent in getting Ruud van Nistelrooy.

"Again?" Queiroz was rather surprised upon receiving the fax. Ferguson had told him about what had happened yesterday, and it did not seem as if the two had made any deal or come to any tacit agreement.

Ferguson held onto the second offer from Forest, looking at it in a daze.

Hadn't Tony Twain already given up?

"Turn it down?" Queiroz asked.

Ferguson waved his hands and said nothing. He only continued staring at the item in his hands, as if he could tell Tang En's true thoughts from this piece of paper.

Back then, when Manchester United had brought in the Dutchman, they had spent 19 million pounds, creating a new record of transfer fees in England.

It had been five years since then. Ruud van Nistelrooy had given the most beautiful and glorious days in his professional career to the Red Devils, Manchester United. Here, he had truly grown into a world-class forward.

Originally, this beautiful cooperation between them could continue… But the relationship between the two had eventually fallen apart.

These sorts of matters have been seen all too often by Ferguson. He had stayed with this rich and powerful club for almost 20 years now. In that time, he had welcomed and sent away countless people, whether they were rookies he had personally nurtured or football stars he advocated to purchase; Whiteside, Paul Ince, Stam, Beckham, Roy Keane, and now Ruud van Nistelrooy.

In the great Red Devils, Manchester United, there was only one superstar, one person they could not do without. That was their main manager, Sir Alex Ferguson. Any player who wished to challenge his authority here had only one ending: being driven out of Carrington. He did not feel any sorrow for Ruud van Nistelrooy's departure. Now, Manchester had a group of outstanding young players; the future belonged to them. Even if van Nistelrooy did not have any differences with him, he would still have been gradually phased out.

Tony Twain…

Ferguson thought of the name again.

Three years ago, no one heard of him. He was completely without any impression of the man. It was like he fell suddenly from the sky, abruptly taking charge of Nottingham Forest and rushing into their field of vision.

Ferguson scoured his memory for everything related to that name.

And he finally recalled it.

At a League Managers Association's reception one time in the summer three years ago, Nottingham Forest's main manager, Brian Clough, suddenly agreed to attend the special reception organized for Ferguson's being named as the Manager of the Decade. Prior to it, Clough's health conditions were poor. He had had a liver operation done, and it was then a long period since he had appeared in the public eye. He stayed shut in all day at his own home in Derby County.

Bobby Robson tried inviting Clough; after all, Ferguson's achievements were enough to have the seniors come to give their congratulations. Back then, Ferguson did not think Clough would come down; that characteristic old man showed no restraint commenting on his mistakes in front of the media in the past.

Unexpectedly, Clough not only came, he even brought someone else along. Then, he did not introduce the young man beside him holding his clothes to anyone there. Ferguson also chanced that single meeting with him, only giving him a glimpse before paying no further heed.

He now realized that the young man who looked like Clough's private doctor was the English general currently in the limelight, Tony Twain.

In a span of three years, he had grown into a famed general who led a team to leap three grades in three years, fight their way into the Champions League's finals, and force Barcelona into a sorry state; all this from one who used to be unknown.

Ferguson suddenly realized that even if he did not sell van Nistelrooy to Nottingham Forest, Tang En would still threaten his own position. And that boy was right. He was not only threatening Manchester United's position; he was a threat to the position of Arsenal, Chelsea, Liverpool, and all the other strong teams in Europe.

The lad was shrouded with a layer of mystery. Even now, no one could clearly explain how Tony had originally found Franck Ribéry in the lower-tiered French Leagues, a player who was now a core player in the French National Team. They also could not understand how he saw the potential for football in George Wood, who was then working as a mover. Nor did they know what gave him his firm belief in the enormous potential in Gareth Bale when he was only an insignificant player who had trained in Southampton for a day. When Pepe was in FC Porto and was unable to play matches, Tang En activated the exceptional talent clause only available once a season to help Pepe get a work permit despite having no proof of his abilities in a high-level League match. Also, Piqué and Bendtner were hot prospects for the future that Ferguson and Wenger had been observing and following for many years. And then, it was as if Tony, who had only just risen to the English Premier League, knew about the two even earlier than them. He had signed on the two as quick as lightning. It had to be known that before this, he was still in the First Division, or was only involved with the Youth Team… Was his foresight truly that far-seeing? At that time, did he already know that he was going to become the main manager of the team, and that he was going to lead them to rush into the English Premier League, into battling in the UEFA Champions League?

Ferguson himself eventually had to retire… At that time, what would Manchester United do? Queiroz was not someone they could pin too much hope on. He could only be an assistant manager. After searching throughout England, he felt that the only man who could take over his legacy was Tony Twain. This was a youth with a tradition of victories who had an unquenchable thirst for championships.

Perhaps, he should sell him a favor.

"Agree to their offer. Allow them to discuss with the Dutchman's agent. At the same time, also accept Bayern Munich's price."

Queiroz was shocked.

"But, Sir, didn't you say…"

Ferguson knew what Queiroz wanted to say, so he interrupted him and very seriously answered the doubts in his assistant manager's heart. "Carlos, my eight championships in the EPL, five in the English FA Cup, and one in each of the Champions League, Cup Winners' Cup, Super Cup, and Intercontinental Cup, were not attained simply by refusing to sell players to our opponents."