Chapter 39: The Road Is Long and Winding

The match ticked away, second by second, soon approaching the eightieth minute. In words familiar to domestic fans: time was running out for a certain team.

At this moment, Evergrande’s attack was blocked by R&F, and the ball was quickly passed to Michel’s feet. Michel had come to the Chinese Super League this season with then R&F coach Contra from La Liga’s Getafe. With Contra’s dismissal, his days in the team had grown increasingly difficult.

Now, the closest person to Michel was Goulart, setting the stage for a face-to-face midfield duel between the core players of both teams. As Goulart saw Michel receive the ball and prepared to accelerate, he—though not renowned for his defending—charged forward without hesitation.

Michel watched Goulart approach calmly. With his team leading by a wide margin, Michel wanted to perform for the home fans. Instead of passing to a nearby teammate, he gently tapped the ball with both feet, executing slow, consecutive stepovers, searching for a gap—ready to break through if Goulart lost focus.

Goulart remained vigilant, taking cautious, small steps as he slowly closed in. Then Michel flicked the ball with his right foot, shifting Goulart’s balance, and the ball rolled quickly to Goulart’s right. Michel exploded into a sprint, aiming to chase the ball down.

But Goulart was prepared. As soon as Michel poked the ball forward, Goulart stretched out his leg with all his might, intercepting it. The effort, however, sharply pulled at his thigh muscle, and after the move, he collapsed to the ground, unable to stand.

Michel, now slightly distanced from the ball due to his confidence and proximity, had to spend precious time regaining control. Goulart was injured; ordinarily, he would have kicked the ball out for the medical staff. But instead, lying on the ground, he passed the ball with his uninjured leg to Paulinho, a few meters away.

The referee failed to notice Goulart’s injury, thinking he was simply wasting time, and did not stop the game. Meanwhile, none of the R&F players expected Michel would lose the ball to Goulart; they were moving their defensive lines forward, a step too slow to react.

While R&F players hesitated, Paulinho did not. Receiving the ball, he charged forward, sprinting several meters before R&F realized and rushed to intercept.

Rather than slowing down, Paulinho accelerated, preparing to dribble past his opponents. With a simple change of direction, he bypassed one R&F player, then executed a one-two with Dai Zhiwei, evading another.

Now, Paulinho drew ever closer to the goal. With two R&F defenders beaten, there were no more defenders to assign—those remaining had to mark Dai Zhiwei and others.

“Stop him! Hurry!” Cheng Yuelei shouted, directing his team to intercept Goulart.

Just as Cheng Yuelei called out and the center-backs moved to mark Paulinho, Paulinho passed—pushing the ball low and flat to Dai Zhiwei, who had just entered the penalty area.

Dai Zhiwei’s rapid run at the edge of the box allowed him to shake off Zhang Xiuxian, who had been marking him. Receiving Paulinho’s pass, he was one-on-one with the goalkeeper!

Cheng Yuelei, sweating profusely, watched Dai Zhiwei in suspense, barely daring to blink. As the top scorer in both the Chinese Super League and the Asian Champions League, no goalkeeper would underestimate Dai Zhiwei.

While Cheng Yuelei was still deciding whether Dai Zhiwei would continue dribbling or adjust for a shot, Dai Zhiwei unleashed a furious strike!

“Go!”

With this shot, Dai Zhiwei vented all his previous frustration and dissatisfaction. The power was unprecedented. Though Cheng Yuelei dove with all his strength, he could not prevent the ball from finding the back of the net.

“It’s in! Dai Zhiwei pulls one back. The score is now 1-2!” The Hebei TV Sports Channel commentator, who had been speaking quietly, shouted excitedly. “The goal came in the 83rd minute. There’s still time—let’s see what changes unfold.”

“YEAH!”

At that moment, Cannavaro jumped up in excitement. From the moment Goulart intercepted Michel’s ball, Cannavaro had watched Evergrande’s attack nervously, knowing the situation favored them—R&F’s players had not fully retreated.

Seeing Evergrande finally score, Cannavaro gestured for his team to maintain their offensive.

A double stroke of luck: Goulart’s thigh injury was not serious. With the help of Zhao Xuyang, he stood up and looked able to finish the match. Evergrande had already used all three substitutions, so if Goulart couldn’t play, they would face a 9-vs-11 scenario.

Dai Zhiwei hurriedly retrieved the ball from the net, skipping celebrations and sprinted back to midfield, signaling R&F to restart quickly.

Now trailing by just one goal, Evergrande launched a desperate counterattack.

The players were already exhausted. Most of the match had been played with ten against eleven, draining more energy than ever.

On the sidelines, even Stojkovic frowned, anticipating that Evergrande would fight to the last breath, which explained his own series of substitutions at the eightieth minute.

“They really are tough opponents,” Stojkovic shook his head and returned to his seat, unconvinced that Evergrande could score again. Most people shared this view, scoffing at Evergrande’s seemingly futile efforts.

Evergrande attacked. Goulart received a long pass from the back, controlled the ball, and passed to Dai Zhiwei, then sprinted forward, hoping for a wall-pass one-two. But upon arriving, he realized the ball had not been returned.

Almost as Dai Zhiwei received Goulart’s pass, Zhang Xianxiu collided from behind, knocking both ball and Dai Zhiwei out of bounds.

Dai Zhiwei got up, ready to throw in, but as he picked up the ball, he felt a sudden chill on his forehead. He looked up in puzzlement.

Zhang Xianxiu also looked skyward.

Rain had started!

After a cloudy day, the rain fell just as the match neared its end. It went from nothing to heavy in moments, the lines of rain clearly visible. The forecast had called for clouds.

“Damn it!” Dai Zhiwei muttered.

The sudden change in weather greatly affected the players. Dai Zhiwei received the ball again, preparing for another attack—now in injury time, possibly Evergrande’s last few chances.

Zhang Xianxiu turned and lunged at Dai Zhiwei like a tiger descending the mountain.

This time, Dai Zhiwei’s touch was clever, nudging the ball slightly away from his body then accelerating, aiming to enter the penalty area.

But Zhang Xianxiu pursued him immediately, ending the attack with a foul and receiving a yellow card.

“Damn!” Dai Zhiwei, frustrated, pounded the ground, his fist splashing mud from the turf.

With little time left, a yellow card posed little threat to Zhang Xiuxian.

“Two minutes left!”

Listening to the fans’ shouts, Evergrande quickly restarted play, but young Essien outjumped Martins, heading the ball away.

The ball landed at Robinho’s feet. He wanted to pass, but saw all his teammates tightly marked. This was likely the last attack; he had to be careful.

“Pass to me!”

Dai Zhiwei suddenly burst out of the box, calling to Robinho.

Robinho had no time to think; R&F fans on the sidelines were already counting down!

The ball reached Dai Zhiwei, who, with his back to goal, was immediately pressed by Zhang Xianxiu, not given a chance to turn.

Dai Zhiwei used his body to block Zhang Xianxiu behind him, then tapped the ball with his left foot, tensed his non-dominant right leg, spun sharply, and chipped with his right, sending the ball racing toward the top right corner!

“Is it in?” Dai Zhiwei had little confidence in this shot.

Hilario leapt, stretching desperately!

The ball eluded Hilario’s reach!

But it did not score—the ball grazed the right post and went wide.

The shot startled everyone on R&F; Stojkovic clutched his head, Cannavaro kicked a water bottle into the air.

The rain poured harder. Stojkovic no longer stood in the rain directing his team, instead returning to the bench.

There was nothing left to direct. He knew, and his opponent surely knew, the match was decided.

With the score behind, the rain became the final straw for the losing side. The field grew muddier, tempers ran high.

A minute later, the referee blew the whistle to end the match. Most of Evergrande’s players collapsed in the mud, while R&F’s players embraced in small groups, celebrating their hard-won victory.

Defeated, Dai Zhiwei stood hunched in the rain, hands on knees, gasping for breath.

“Is it over?”

He looked up at the electronic scoreboard displaying 1:2, his resolve to press forward strengthened.