Dominate the Super Bowl-Chapter 977 - 976 Perfect Blueprint

Li Wei quietly looked at Veach, a faint smile flickering in his eyes. "Surprise me."

Veach immediately sensed Li Wei’s alertness, but he didn’t panic. "Oh, relax. Just say a number, any number. Trust me, I won’t be scared."

For most players, this would be the moment to begin hinting at their thoughts.

Even if the number was absurd, something like "an annual salary of one hundred million US Dollars," it wouldn’t matter. That would present a crack or an opening for Veach to immediately follow through and take control of the situation.

But Li Wei was different.

Veach could read the faint teasing in the smile in Li Wei’s eyes:

I refuse to play by your rules.

Li Wei: "Mr. Veach, we both know what this is all about."

Veach: "No, I don’t. Why don’t you remind me?"

Li Wei: "No matter what number I say, you’ll try to push it down; no matter what number you say, I’ll push it up. No one will be happy."

Veach: "Are you sure? Even if I propose the perfect number?"

Li Wei: "That’s the crux of the matter. If you offer the perfect number and I agree outright, you’ll start doubting yourself. Was the number too high? Maybe my internal figure wasn’t that large after all?"

Veach: "So, we’ll just be at an impasse here?"

Li Wei: "No, Mr. Veach. You’ve always held the initiative."

"Have you forgotten? It was you who first suggested an early contract renewal. You’ve already demonstrated sincerity. Therefore, now it’s up to you to propose a reasonable number and persuade me accordingly. That will show the team’s greatest sincerity—hoping I’ll accept it—and then together we’ll aim for a three-peat championship."

Veach: "Will you agree then?"

Li Wei: "No."

Veach: …

You could see the exasperated look on Veach’s face, slightly comical.

Li Wei burst out laughing. "Mr. Veach, I’ve told you before. My ambition isn’t so easily satisfied. I’m waiting for a contract that makes history."

Veach took a deep, exaggerated breath, his brow furrowing tightly as he shook his head repeatedly, as if overwhelmed. "You should stop calling me Mr. Veach. Every time you address me that way, I get nervous—as though something terrible is about to happen."

Li Wei answered casually, "I think that should go in my skillset. I seem to have the talent for irritating my opponents and making them lose control."

Veach: …

After pausing for a moment, Veach looked at Li Wei. "You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?"

Li Wei earnestly countered, "I thought this was the essence of negotiations."

Veach tried to remain serious but couldn’t help himself; his smile broke through. "Indeed, that’s exactly right. But I didn’t expect you to be so good at it. Your agent might need to worry about losing their job."

"Haha." Li Wei could taste the sarcasm and jabs in Veach’s words—

Clearly, Veach wasn’t satisfied with where the negotiation was heading.

Li Wei looked at Veach. "Sir."

This time, Li Wei deliberately emphasized his tone, replacing "Mr. Veach" with just "Sir." His smug expression left Veach utterly dumbfounded.

On the field, it was rare to see this side of Li Wei. Could this be his usual demeanor in the locker room?

"What are your expectations for the Chieftain?" Li Wei struck back, tossing out a question.

Veach focused himself because he knew this wasn’t just a rebuttal—it was also a signal of potential opening.

"Dynasty," Veach said.

Li Wei: "Like the New England Patriots?"

Veach nodded.

Li Wei: "I don’t think so. The New England Patriots eventually became Brady and Belichick’s team. But we all know their five Super Bowl Championships over a decade weren’t solely built on Brady and Belichick."

"They may have achieved a dynasty, but they were never truly a team."

"They could never, like the Pittsburgh Steelers or the Dallas Cowboys, gather a massive fanbase beyond their city limits; nor could they, like the Green Bay Packers, form a bond with their city that endures through thick and thin."

"Sir, do you understand the charm of European football?"

Veach: His face darkened completely.

Squinting his eyes, he glanced at Li Wei.

Li Wei laughed heartily and openly. "Let me rephrase: the charm of NCAA football?"

Veach had grasped the essence of Li Wei’s words, yet he remained attentive, listening intently.

Li Wei’s thoughts drifted into memory. "Even now, I still cherish the years spent with Crimson Tide Storm. The entire city and the team were fully entwined. Games weren’t just games. They weren’t merely victories or championships; they were also an integral part of the lives of the residents."

"Our victories, our championships, our performance on the field. The culture of our team—it all became a part of their lives. We carried their hopes and dreams, became their idols and role models, inherited their beliefs and spirit. That’s something rooted in blood and soul."

Then.

Li Wei looked at Veach, his eyes bright, his face brimming with sincerity.

"Indeed, I hope we can build a dynasty. A three-peat championship? No, no, no. What we’re aiming for is to surpass the Pittsburgh Steelers’ seven Super Bowl Championship Trophies." ƒгeewebnovёl.com

"But not just that."

"I hope we can become the symbol of a city, a part of its culture, a spiritual compass, the heart of daily life. Laughing together, crying together. Facing challenges and growing stronger together. Struggling through setbacks and weathering storms together."

"A true team shouldn’t be defined solely by victories and championships. It should have a soul."

Like those NCAA university teams, like those European football clubs.

A smile climbed up the corners of his lips, radiating from Li Wei’s refined face.

"I hope to be part of this process."

"You know what? Even now, when I return to Tuscaloosa, it feels just like going home."

Calm, yet stirring.

Serene, yet explosive.

Veach had to admit—he was stunned, standing before the grand vision Li Wei laid out, feeling his own insignificance.

Of course, Veach remained rational—

He knew the Professional League had no place for dreams. He knew players were merely pawns in the face of capital and competition. He knew the dream Li Wei painted couldn’t withstand the brutal weight of reality. He knew idealism tends to end like Don Quixote’s journey—either descending into madness or meeting a tragic demise.

He understood all of that.

He was the team’s general manager. He wouldn’t be swept away by some nebulous dream. He had long outgrown the youthful fervor of hot-blooded passion.

Cool-headed. Objective. Logical.

Those were things he hadn’t lost.

Yet Li Wei stood in front of him—so sincere, so radiant—that Veach couldn’t help feeling his heart surge, his mind painting the vivid, majestic dream.

Even while keeping his reason intact, Veach had to admit:

Dreams, so beautiful, so dazzling, always evoke yearning. They simultaneously reveal the twisted, distorted shadows of oneself against the stark reality.

In that moment, deep within a tiny corner of his heart, Veach began to sense his own smallness and fragility.

At some point, he had started using the cruelty of reality as an excuse to extinguish the dawn of dreams, repeatedly telling himself dreams simply didn’t exist.

Again. And again. And again. Until the lies became truth, and he hypnotized himself.