Chapter 23: She Watching from the Sidelines

"Already out for the count?" Dai Zhiwei looked at Zhong Luchun, who had collapsed limply onto the sofa, pressed his temple, and muttered, "Maybe we should call it a night?" He frowned, glanced over at Zhong Luchun, and saw she had completely melted into a puddle. All he could do was give a wry smile and beckon to her girlfriends.

He watched as a stunning woman in a red dress wrapped an arm around Zhong Luchun and led her to the restroom. Peeking in, Dai Zhiwei observed Zhong Luchun slumped over the sink, head hanging low as if she wanted to vomit but couldn't manage it.

He raised an eyebrow, amused. "So that's her tolerance? Wants to throw up but can't? Maybe she's not any better than me after all. She's just putting on a show!"

After washing her face, Zhong Luchun seemed much improved and didn't need help walking back, though she remained groggy on the sofa. Dai Zhiwei returned and, with the few teammates who were still lucid, downed another round, swiftly dispatching their opponents.

It was nearing one in the morning, and Wang Junhui, who lacked all self-control, was already swaying unsteadily, thoroughly plied with drink. Sensing the time, Zheng Zhi, who was still relatively sober, shouted, "That's it for tonight! No practice tomorrow morning, so get some proper rest. Alright, dismissed!"

His booming voice roused the dazed group, who began to disperse. On the curb outside, Zhong Luchun's friends, supporting one another, turned to Dai Zhiwei. "We're not headed the same way as Xiaolu, but you live close by. We're leaving her to you! You must take her home and make sure she’s safe!"

"Got it," Dai Zhiwei replied helplessly, steadying Zhong Luchun to prevent her from falling.

What did that mean, exactly?

He hailed a cab, helped Zhong Luchun inside, and gave the address she had mumbled earlier.

The community where Zhong Luchun rented her apartment wasn't far from Dai Zhiwei's own place. It was a serviced apartment—small, only sixty or seventy square meters, but the rent was a steep seven or eight thousand a month, more than double the local single apartments.

When the cab pulled up, Dai Zhiwei helped Zhong Luchun out. The alcohol seemed to have fully taken hold; she was entirely limp in his arms.

Despite her slender frame, Zhong Luchun stood at 178 centimeters, and with five-centimeter heels, she was taller than Dai Zhiwei himself.

He nearly lost his grip, fumbling awkwardly, and finally, with a grimace, bent slightly to hoist Zhong Luchun over his shoulder.

"What a sight," he thought wryly. "Anyone passing by would think I’d picked up a body from a nightclub."

From her bag, he fished out the entry card and keys. Under the security guard’s watchful gaze, he managed an awkward smile and led her upstairs.

The moment he entered, he was greeted by a dazzling array of high heels.

"Why wear high heels when you’re nearly 1.8 meters tall?" Dai Zhiwei muttered.

In both his past and present lives, Dai Zhiwei had never quite reached 1.8 meters, a detail that always irked him.

After passing through the small hall into the bedroom, a strange sensation crept over Dai Zhiwei. Alone, late at night, a drunken woman, just the two of them? To say he felt nothing would be a lie; his right arm was still wrapped around Zhong Luchun’s legs.

And with her draped over him, the physical contact was impossible to ignore. His breath grew shallow.

He took two deep breaths, carefully laid Zhong Luchun on her bed, then slumped onto the small sofa nearby.

He’d drunk plenty himself, and carrying her up had been exhausting. The room fell into silence, save for their breathing—his heavy, hers quick and uneven.

After a moment, Dai Zhiwei stood and moved to the bedside. He studied Zhong Luchun intently: her tousled hair, flushed cheeks, the loose shirt, bare waist, form-fitting skirt, and those slender, flawless legs...

A stifled groan escaped him, and he swallowed audibly. "Am I a beast, or less than a beast?"

Unconsciously, he found one knee on the edge of the bed. Gazing at her face, her curves, her fair legs...

Then, suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around his neck.

In the next instant, he was looking into a pair of sultry, enchanting eyes...

...

"Hey, Zhiwei! What are you doing?" Zhang Linpeng startled Dai Zhiwei out of his reverie in the locker room, sneaking up and shouting behind him.

"What the hell? Must you do that?" Dai Zhiwei turned, cursing with a laugh.

"You’re the one spacing out," Zhang Linpeng grumbled.

"Just thinking." Dai Zhiwei pulled on his training kit, his thoughts drifting to the past days of shameless entanglement with Zhong Luchun—especially that first night, when he’d barely slept. It was the first time since his rebirth that he hadn’t practiced in the system space.

He rubbed his waist, sighing inwardly—what a drain of energy and stamina, what a demanding woman!

So, he was a man with a girlfriend now?

Dai Zhiwei couldn’t shake the feeling he’d been set up. Zhong Luchun had insisted he take her home; it all seemed a little too deliberate.

In his previous life, he might have doubted himself, but this time around, he was confident enough. Given his annual income—Golden Ball bonuses, match prizes, miscellaneous awards, and a base salary—he made nearly four million a year.

On top of that, he was good-looking, a rising star in Chinese football, and had the fame to match. It was only natural that a minor model would seek him out.

While he suspected Zhong Luchun might have ulterior motives, he found he didn’t mind. She was beautiful, had a good temperament, and aside from being a bit exhausting, there was little to complain about.

After training, he went to the club operations office to collect a ticket for the next night’s match against Seongnam FC, and a set of his own kit. Zhong Luchun had said she’d come to watch him play—as his girlfriend.

...

In the first leg, Evergrande had managed a 2-2 draw away, despite a red card and a controversial penalty. With two away goals, they only needed a draw at home (as long as it wasn't more than 2-2) or a win to qualify comfortably.

Historically, Evergrande had never been eliminated in the first round of the Champions League knockouts; their worst showing was the quarterfinals.

But their current form was abysmal. From the first match of the tournament, injuries had plagued the squad. In seven matches, not a single player had managed to play every game. Alan, Elkeson, and Kim Young-gwon had all been sidelined, leaving Cannavaro with few options.

On the previous match day, Guoan had lost at home and exited in the round of sixteen, leaving Evergrande as the sole standard-bearer for the Chinese Super League.

For this match, Elkeson and Kim Young-gwon remained out, so Evergrande could only field Goulart as their lone foreign player. Seongnam kept their first-leg lineup. Besides Zhong Luchun in Dai Zhiwei’s jersey in the stands, club owner Xu Jiayin and former coach Lippi were also present to lend their support.

Though it wasn’t raining during the match, the entire Tianhe pitch was waterlogged, making acceleration a challenge for the players. Just fifty seconds in, Seongnam’s Brazilian, Bueno, launched a flying kick at Zou Zheng and earned a yellow card.

But disaster struck for Evergrande almost immediately.

Already short-handed, this patched-together lineup suffered another blow. In the fifth minute, Zhang Linpeng went down in a tussle with Nam Jun, unable to get up. The medical team rushed in and immediately signaled for a substitution. On replay, there was little visible contact.

Rong Hao was hurriedly brought on, and Lippi, sitting in the VIP box, instinctively checked the substitute list.

It was the worst possible start to a must-win match.

Dai Zhiwei, rarely so tense, furrowed his brow. Zhang Linpeng was a close friend, and he hated to see him hurt. But he also worried about the outcome; he even started humming to himself under his breath.

"Why, when my girlfriend is cheering me on from the stands, do you still make me look like a fool?"