Chapter 050: Wiping Out Class 4, Grade 11

Love the blue sky and white clouds, love life. Love novels, love music, love photography, love art. Love everything that’s worth loving. If you’re alive, you ought to love a little more.

“My world is so vast, I want to see it all!” Zhang Tan cupped his hands around his mouth, facing the setting sun in the west, and shouted loudly, “Awooo!” He was imitating a wolf’s howl.

Not far away, a green train rattled along the tracks, drowning out his wolfish cry. So Zhang Tan tried to howl even louder: “Awooo, awooo, awoooooooo!” His voice stretched out so long that even the rippling Lover’s Lake trembled.

Every ounce of oppression imposed on him by the times seemed to drift away with his howl. He accepted—wholeheartedly, completely—the reality of living his life anew. Life is short, and he was lucky enough to get another chance. He resolved to live well, to make something of himself.

…

After a week of hard-fought battles, Class Six of Year One, led by Xu Weidong, defied expectations and clawed their way out of the resurrection round, seizing the last spot in the final eight. Thus, the eight finalists for Shuangdun High School’s football tournament were decided: Class One of Year Two, Class Two of Year Two, Class Four of Year Two, Class Seven of Year Two, Class Two of Year One, Class Three of Year One, Class Five of Year One, and Class Six of Year One.

With the top eight determined, lots were drawn for the next round of matches. Zhang Tan’s luck was poor—he drew Class Two of Year Two, the very team that had sent Class Six of Year One into the resurrection round, a formidable opponent. But Zhang Tan was confident.

On the noon of October 19th, on the field, Class Five of Year One faced off against Class Two of Year Two. The latter boasted four players who were members of the school team—their skills were impressive. But so what? Zhang Tan’s side had its own stars, Zhang Tan himself among them. The match was a relentless back-and-forth, with both teams’ defenses riddled with holes, unable to withstand the barrage of shots. It turned into a shooting contest.

The goalkeeper for Class Five of Year One, Wei Tao, usually lost in daydreams at a forty-five degree angle, was today completely focused, making countless saves and turning danger into safety. Defender Ye Zhiqiang was in heroic form—whenever an opponent approached, he’d tackle, ball and man alike, sending both sprawling.

His normally dark face twisted white with effort. Imagine if there were sound effects: “Hey! This road is mine, this tree is mine, if you want to pass, leave your football behind!” He was practically a highwayman.

“Damn it, that’s a foul! He tackled me!” shouted the striker from Class Two of Year Two, pointing at Ye Zhiqiang and complaining to the referee.

The referee for this match was the captain of Class Four of Year Two. Perhaps aware of Class Two’s strength and intent on playing some tricks, he merely gave Ye Zhiqiang a perfunctory verbal warning, without showing a card.

Seeing this, the defenders of Class Five began to imitate Ye Zhiqiang—if the opposing forwards dared to act up, they dared to tackle. They’d either keep the player or the ball, sometimes neither, sending opponents flying.

But as the saying goes, if you do it first, you must allow others to do it later. Class Five started tackling, and Class Two wouldn’t be outdone—their play turned fierce. Zhu Ran and Zhou Yuxi were both knocked down several times by the opposing defenders, and the referee only offered brief warnings, as if encouraging both sides to play dirty, hoping someone would get injured.

With the referee’s indulgence, the tension between the teams grew ever thicker. Zhang Tan was almost tackled several times, but his agility saved him, dodging at the last moment. Seeing Zhang Tan was too nimble, the opposition grew more sinister—not a tackle, but a straight-up collision.

Just as Zhang Tan got the ball in the opponent’s half, their defender charged at him, knocking him down hard. He rolled twice before shaking off the impact, covered in mud.

This collision instantly ignited the already tense atmosphere. All the players from Class Five rushed over, so did those from Class Two, pushing and shoving, almost breaking into a fight. At that moment, Zhao Quan, watching from the sidelines, rushed over and shouted, “Everyone, stand still! Try anything and see what happens!”

Zhao Quan was a teacher and the school team coach, burly and imposing. His words carried enormous weight—both teams fell silent.

Zhao Quan pointed at the captain of Class Four and said, “Go back, I’ll referee this match from now on.”

Clearly, he’d seen through the captain’s malicious intent.

“Detective, are you alright?” The captain of Class Two patted the still-rubbing-his-shoulder Zhang Tan. Despite the friction, he actually got along well with Zhang Tan, and was helpless about the situation.

Zhang Tan nodded generously, “I’m fine. Let’s tell our teammates not to tackle so easily anymore—getting injured isn’t worth it. Save our strength, no matter who wins or loses, wait until we face Class Four to go all out.”

“Right, Class Four needs a lesson, what a bunch of jerks!”

No one was a fool—the captain’s actions were obvious to anyone paying attention, though at the time everyone was caught up in the moment and let him succeed. Now, under Zhao Quan’s intimidation, both sides came to their senses. They immediately turned their focus outward, ready to target Class Four together.

…

With order restored, the teams could finally coordinate their plays. Under Zhang Tan’s leadership, Class Five of Year One eliminated the stronger Class Two of Year Two, with a final score of four to three. Zhang Tan scored two goals, Zhu Ran scored two. After the match, Zhao Quan approached them, inviting both to train with the school team in the future.

This was a recognition of their talent.

Zhu Ran was ecstatic; Zhang Tan stayed calm—the school team at Shuangdun was nothing special, after all.

Four days later, the semifinalists were decided: Class Five of Year One, Class Four of Year Two, Class Seven of Year Two, and Class Six of Year One.

After the draw, Class Five faced Class Six.

Class Six’s strength was already a notch below Class Five, and under Zhang Tan’s hat trick, they surrendered without a fight. Thus, Class Five and Class Four marched together into the final.

Fifteen years—a cycle.

History was repeating itself.

October 26th. The sky drizzled with rain. The season had passed the first frost; the weather carried a chill. The cheerleaders for Class Five huddled under the eaves, watching the field from afar, occasionally shouting encouragement.

On the field, Class Four wore Ajax jerseys—white with red stripes. These jerseys symbolized the former pinnacle of European football: the Dutch Ajax club, four-time European Cup champions, known as the world’s greatest star factory. Cruyff, Van Basten, Rijkaard, Kluivert, Bergkamp—all took flight there.

But with Ajax’s European Cup win in 1995 came the Bosman ruling, allowing players free transfers. Small nations’ leagues could no longer retain their stars; Ajax would gradually decline, becoming a marketplace for star players, letting the giants of the four major leagues cherry-pick their talent.

Still, Ajax’s influence on global football remained immense, and many in China admired the club.

On the other side, Class Five wore bright red Manchester United jerseys. United too was a European powerhouse—treble winners, three consecutive championships, unprecedented feats.

The two teams, clad in jerseys representing football’s summit, were about to battle in the muddy field for the Shuangdun High School championship.

“Class Four will win!” came the rallying cry—a declaration from Class Four.

Zhang Tan glanced at them, gathered his team, and roared, “Class Five, wipe out Class Four!”