Chapter 92: A Blazing Strike

Dai Zhiwei once again dropped back to the right side of midfield to receive a pass from Trigueros, but as soon as the ball reached him, he felt as if a giant gorilla had latched onto his back, making it impossible to move freely. The man marking him so tightly was none other than the world’s top left-back, Marcelo!

Marcelo was even shorter than Dai Zhiwei, yet far more robust, like a solid chunk of muscle pressed against Dai’s lower back, making it extremely uncomfortable. As Dai brought the ball down with his chest, he suddenly leaned hard backward. Marcelo subtly shifted his stance, giving up half a step, allowing Dai to nudge the ball forward and to his side with his chest.

Upon landing, the ball bounced not far away, and Marcelo rushed forward to snatch it. But Dai was never one to give up so easily; he immediately broke into a sprint. In an instant, two explosive players lunged at the ball simultaneously. Dai reached out first, but Marcelo was closer to it. Another fierce contest seemed inevitable.

But the Bernabéu was never a stage for just two players. Before either Marcelo or Dai could reach the ball, a third figure darted out and snatched it away — Trigueros, who had sprinted up after passing to Dai, was first to the ball. By the time Marcelo realized what had happened, Dai was already turning and sprinting back upfield.

Dai’s reactions were a shade quicker than Marcelo’s. The moment he saw Trigueros had possession, his first thought was to counterattack! Sure enough, Trigueros immediately played a through ball, perfectly into Dai’s path, allowing him to breeze past Marcelo, who had been doggedly marking him.

Every team that had faced Villarreal in the second half of the season knew: if you let Dai Zhiwei break into open space with the ball, it was the gravest mistake imaginable — no one could catch him. Even Marcelo, famed for his speed, could only eat Dai’s dust when they started level, let alone Modrić and the others in midfield.

The Real Madrid players behind Dai could only watch the gap widen. Kroos had already given up the chase. At the edge of the box, Ramos steadied himself, fixing his gaze on Dai’s advancing feet. It was too late to block him by positioning alone; he had one chance at a decisive tackle.

Sometimes, a single challenge is all it takes to end a brilliant attack. And at the Bernabéu, Ramos had every reason to believe the referee would be inclined to favor Real Madrid.

As Dai drew ever closer, Ramos adjusted his stance, locking onto the ball at Dai’s feet, ready to strike. At the same time, Dai stared right back at Ramos. “Let’s settle our old scores here and now!”

It was a battle of split-second reactions.

Suddenly, Dai exploded with power, pushing off with his left foot to lengthen his stride, then guiding the ball with his right, feinting with the outside of his foot to make a sharp right-angle turn and slip past Ramos’ defense.

Had he broken through?

Just as this thought flickered through Dai’s mind, the corner of his eye caught Ramos already sliding in, his tackle aimed precisely at the ball. Ramos showed why he was one of the finest center-backs in the world. But Dai’s reflexes were even quicker. The very instant Ramos launched into his slide, Dai flicked the ball up, sending it sailing just over Ramos’ toes, and with a long stride, he hurdled the fallen defender!

Now, only Varane and Navas in goal stood between him and glory.

The previous feint and flick had left Dai panting, and it would have been too much to expect him to take on Varane as well. But who said you had to beat the last defender to shoot?

After leaving Ramos behind, Dai suddenly shifted direction at the edge of the box, pulling the ball across for a split second before unleashing his shot.

A thunderous strike from outside the box. Varane had no time to block, and even Navas, alert as he was, hadn’t expected Dai to shoot so quickly. But Dai had always trusted his “Tiger Shot” — as long as he had a sliver of space, no matter how rushed, he believed he could blast the ball home!

The shot roared off Dai’s foot like a cannonball. The angle wasn’t perfect, but the sheer speed was unstoppable. By the time Navas instinctively moved to save, the ball had already ripped past him, less than forty centimeters from his side, bulging the net with a violent snap!

“Gooooooooooooooooooooooooal!”

The Villarreal fans in the stadium erupted, roaring like madmen, oblivious to the sea of white-clad Real Madrid supporters around them — even if their patch of yellow seemed so tiny amid the endless white.

1:0!

After scoring, Dai sprinted wildly to the stands closest to the Real Madrid fans, his face contorted as he thumped his chest, as if trying to shove his pounding heart back into his ribcage!

Except for his very first career goal and that strike against Barcelona in the Club World Cup, Dai had never felt so elated. Because this was the Bernabéu! Because his opponent was Real Madrid! For any player, the Bernabéu and Real Madrid are extraordinary, but for a Chinese player, simply setting foot here and facing Real Madrid is an unattainable dream. To score against them here — that is a fantasy too wild to dream.

Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away in China, countless fans leapt to their feet, exulting as if they had just won the lottery, laughing and shouting in pure joy!

For Dai Zhiwei, this was merely a league goal. But for Chinese football, it was a complex and powerful shot of adrenaline! It proved that even in the desert, brilliant flowers could bloom!

In the past, fans from South Korea and Japan would always flaunt their footballing stars before Chinese supporters, who could only watch in envy. But this time, China had its own pride, its own Asian beacon!

“Ahhhhh… huh?” In the midst of his roar, Dai Zhiwei suddenly caught himself, realizing in his excitement he’d forgotten to perform his trademark celebration.

With a quick feint, he shook off his teammates rushing up to celebrate, then mimed blowing the smoke from an imaginary gun barrel.

Passion surged, yet he never lost his poise.

After his “gun-blowing” celebration, he turned provocatively toward Ramos, lifting his stubbly chin in defiance, as arrogant as could be. But in that moment, there wasn’t a single Villarreal fan who didn’t find him utterly endearing!

Dai Zhiwei was arrogant, but even Real Madrid fans had to admit he had earned it. With this goal to open the scoring against Real Madrid, he had now netted fourteen goals in thirteen league matches this season — averaging more than a goal per game.

In the past few decades, only Messi and Ronaldo had maintained such a ratio. Not even legends like Ronaldo Nazário, Vieri, or Eto’o could match that! If Dai had joined Villarreal at the beginning of the season, he might even have outscored Suárez to claim the La Liga Golden Boot.

On the sidelines, Marcelino punched the air in excitement. It was always tough facing Real Madrid, but with an early goal, they could settle deep and play on the counter.

As underdogs, it was vital to know their limits.

Yet Zidane, known as “the Enigma,” might not have been a tactical genius, but his psychological strength was second to none. Under his guidance, Real Madrid, seasoned by countless storms, never lost heart after conceding, especially in a crucial title-deciding match at the end of the season.

Real Madrid restarted the match. Benzema carried the ball from midfield and sent a direct pass to Ronaldo upfront. Though Ronaldo’s dribbling and one-on-one skills were no longer what they’d been at Manchester United, whenever he had the ball, he drew nearly all of Villarreal’s defensive attention.

After trapping the ball, Ronaldo paused, then played it out to Modrić on the left wing.

Modrić took the pass and cut inside on the diagonal. Real Madrid’s previous attacks had all come down the center, so Bailly and Bonera were perhaps overprotective of the edge of the box, giving Modrić space to cross from the wing.

This time Modrić advanced smoothly — dribbling, breaking forward, the ball rolling several strides ahead. Rukavina hesitated, not daring to press up, playing it safe.

“So cautious?” Modrić was disappointed by Rukavina’s retreat. He’d been baiting him, hoping Rukavina would take the risk and try to win the ball, confident he could beat him and drive straight for goal.

Modrić flicked his right ankle, preparing to cross from the byline, but Rukavina was there first, half-turning into a sliding tackle to knock the ball out for a corner.

A corner for Real Madrid.