The Chinese national team had drawn 2–2 with Portugal.
And the result sent shockwaves through the country.
For the first time in history, China had earned a point at the FIFA World Cup.
They had scored their first-ever goal in the opening match. Now, in the second, they had claimed their first group stage point. It might not have been a win, but the symbolic value of this result far outweighed the scoreline itself. The team's resilience, commitment, and tactical discipline were on full display.
More importantly, this performance injected hope.
Across the media landscape, newspapers ran bold headlines. TV stations looped footage of Yang Yang's equalizer. Analysts dissected every play. The overwhelming reaction was one of pride — even admiration. The draw may not have guaranteed progress to the Round of 16, but it had achieved something that once seemed impossible.
And most of the credit went to one man.
Yang Yang, the 19-year-old forward who had now scored all three of China's goals in the tournament, was front and center of the conversation. Commentators, fans, and players alike knew: without him, none of this would have been possible.
"After carrying Ajax into the Champions League semi-finals," one editorial read, "Yang Yang has carried the national team into uncharted territory at the World Cup. He didn't just help them qualify — he's now given them a theoretical chance at advancing to the Round of 16. That alone is enough to inspire an entire generation."
Respected media outlets across the country praised the team's courage. While acknowledging the gulf in quality between China and more established footballing nations, they emphasized how effort, structure, and belief had closed the gap.
"Before the tournament began," one leading outlet noted, "our dream was to score one goal. That was all. Just one. And to maybe — just maybe — get a point. The team has now scored three goals and earned its first draw in World Cup history. No matter what happens next, they have surpassed expectations."
"No one can ask for more."
In post-match coverage, the press also highlighted comments from Portugal manager Luiz Felipe Scolari. Speaking in the press conference after the match, Scolari had mixed emotions. He began by praising Luís Figo.
"Our captain has been essential," the Brazilian coach said. "Three assists so far — every one of Portugal's goals has come through him. He remains our most dangerous player."
Scolari also defended his tactical approach, which had come under criticism for its unpredictability. The shift from Petit and Tiago in the first match to Costinha and Maniche in the second had left observers puzzled.
"I believe in the structure I chose," he insisted. "We'll continue with the setup I think suits the squad. In the third game, our goal remains the same — to win. Even though a draw might be enough to qualify, I don't want to leave anything to chance."
Scolari admitted, however, that the level of competition had surprised him.
"People forget how strong these teams are. That draw between Mexico and Angola reminded me that there are no easy matches in this tournament."
And then, unprompted, he turned to Yang Yang.
"The Chinese team has very talented players," he said. "Yang Yang is not just the best player in Asia — I'd say he's among the best players in the world right now. His performance tonight shocked me. We tried to limit his involvement as much as possible, and still, he made the difference with the few chances he had."
"He has the composure and instinct of a natural goalscorer. His timing, his finishing — it's rare. He made something out of very little, and that's what top strikers do."
Still, when asked about the official decision naming Yang Yang as Man of the Match, Scolari raised a polite objection.
"Figo was the most influential player on the pitch, in my opinion. He created chances, provided two assists, and dictated tempo. I don't think there's any question about his contribution."
"Of course, Yang Yang did very well, and it's good for the game that he was recognized. But if I had to choose, I would've picked Figo."
In the Chinese camp, the mood was celebratory, though focused.
Head coach Arie Haan was clear in his praise.
"There's no question — Yang Yang was the best player today," he told reporters. "He gave us hope, gave us belief. This result was unforgettable. Every single one of our players gave everything, and now we prepare for the next challenge."
"We will go into the final match against Angola with one goal: to win."
...
Back home, the Chinese media erupted.
News coverage, commentary shows, and headlines across the country focused entirely on the national team's performance — and more than anything else, on Yang Yang.
The national conversation, already stirred by the historic 2–2 draw with Portugal, quickly turned into widespread praise. The media offered no restraint in their support, and public opinion was overwhelmingly positive. Even internationally, Yang Yang was the name on everyone's lips.
Major European sports outlets didn't hesitate to acknowledge his performance either. Commentators in Spain, Italy, France, and England all pointed to the same truth: Yang Yang's output was being limited not by his own level, but by the strength of the team around him.
"If Yang Yang were playing for a side like Portugal," one analyst wrote, "his efficiency in front of goal would likely lead to scorelines that are completely one-sided. The fact that he's doing this with China makes his impact all the more remarkable."
It was a widely shared sentiment.
There's an old saying: only when the tide goes out do you discover who's been swimming naked.
The World Cup, with all its pressure and scrutiny, exposed many teams — and many players. But it also clarified who could rise in difficult conditions. And in China's case, while the team was often on the back foot, overwhelmed by stronger opponents, Yang Yang stood out with calmness, intelligence, and precision.
In two matches, China had been largely outplayed — but Yang Yang had seized three moments. Three goals. Three bursts of quality that not only preserved national pride, but rewrote decades of painful World Cup history.
"There's no doubt," one broadcaster said on air, "that after this tournament, Yang Yang's place as a national hero is firmly established."
Unsurprisingly, speculation around his future intensified.
European media began pushing transfer rumors again, with clubs reportedly tracking him before the tournament now said to be "reconsidering their offers" or "stepping up their interest."
And with each passing group stage game, the stakes rose.
By the end of the second round of group matches, the top of the World Cup scoring chart took many by surprise. The leading goalscorer? Yang Yang. Three goals in two games — enough to put him level with Fernando Torres of Spain, ahead of players like Ronaldo, Henry, Crespo, and even Zidane.
Torres also had three goals and an assist, but the context behind Yang Yang's tally made headlines.
As one analyst put it: "Torres is supported by Xavi, Fabregas, Villa, and a midfield that dominates possession. Yang Yang has had to create from scraps — playing on a team that rarely sees the ball in the final third. His goals have come from effort, timing, and pure efficiency."
Every outlet across Europe — from L'Équipe to Marca, from La Gazzetta dello Sport to BBC Sport — praised his impact. This was no longer just a prodigy from Ajax. This was a world-class forward doing it under the brightest lights and the harshest pressure.
By now, few serious observers were still questioning Yang Yang's level.
He had already proven himself in the Dutch league, in the Champions League, and now on the global stage. Yes, any player can have a quiet game. But Yang Yang's consistency, his composure, and his decision-making had firmly placed him among the elite.
The question was no longer whether he belonged with the top players in the world.
Now, it was: how far can he go from here?
What happens next — especially in terms of his transfer — could determine the course of the next phase of his career. But for the moment, one thing was certain.
Yang Yang wasn't chasing the spotlight anymore.
He was the spotlight.
...
...
June 21st, Leipzig Central Stadium.
The final round of Group D.
China vs. Angola.
Inside the locker room, silence prevailed.
Each player sat in his place, immersed in his own routine — some with eyes closed, calming their nerves, others quietly adjusting their tape, socks, or shin guards. No one spoke unnecessarily. Every movement was careful, deliberate.
There was weight in the air.
Everyone knew what was at stake. For some, this might be the last time they wore the national shirt at a World Cup. For others, it was the beginning of a journey. But for all of them, this was the end of the line unless they won.
They were fully aware of the situation.
With captain Li Weifeng ruled out through injury, Arie Haan had reorganized the team. Zheng Zhi would shift into central defense. The midfield trio would be Zhao Junzhe, Zhou Haibin, and Shao Jiayi — a clear indication that China was going into this match to fight, not to defend. The only path to hope was through victory.
What happened in the Portugal–Mexico match didn't matter unless China won their own game.
This scenario was familiar. For decades, the national team had found itself on the brink — needing a result, needing help — and more often than not, had fallen short under pressure.
Could this time be different?
Everyone in the room was aware of the risks. Portugal and Mexico both had four points. A draw between them would send both through, Portugal topping the group on goal difference. That kind of unspoken agreement — a quiet, mutual understanding to play for a draw — had happened in international tournaments before. No one would be surprised if it happened again.
Of course, Mexico might want more. They might want to top the group, to avoid stronger opponents in the knockout stage. Maybe they would go for the win. Maybe they would push Portugal. But it was all speculation.
The only certainty: China had to beat Angola.
Whether they qualified or not would be settled elsewhere, but one thing was clear — the team had already exceeded expectations. They had broken new ground. They had scored goals, earned their first point, and given fans moments to believe in. No one had demanded progress from the group. Most had just hoped to avoid humiliation.
But that didn't mean they were satisfied.
This World Cup had been, in many ways, a trial run for a new generation — Yang Yang, Zhou Haibin, Feng Xiaoting, Gao Lin, Chen Tao. Their time would come in the next cycle, or the one after that. But now, even in this moment of transition, they had shown they could compete.
So the message was clear: whatever happens, beat Angola.
As the team continued final preparations, the door opened. Team Leader Zhu stepped inside, holding the captain's armband.
"Coach Haan," he said. "Who will wear it today?"
The absence of Li Weifeng had left the captaincy vacant. Both Zhao Junzhe and Zheng Zhi had worn the armband before. The natural assumption was that one of them would lead.
Arie Haan turned toward the players. His eyes scanned the room slowly, pausing on Zheng Zhi, then Zhao Junzhe — and finally settling on Yang Yang.
"Yang," he said. "You'll captain the team today."
There was a moment of stillness. Yang Yang blinked, surprised. He hadn't expected it. Despite captaining Ajax, he had never pushed for any leadership role in the national team. He had focused on doing his job, scoring his goals, keeping quiet.
But now, the eyes of the team were on him.
Zheng Zhi gave a firm nod. Zhao Junzhe clapped. One by one, the other players stood up, applauding. There was no resentment. No tension. Just solidarity. Yang Yang had carried them on the pitch. Now he would lead them off it as well.
Arie Haan took the armband from Leader Zhu and walked over.
He slid it over Yang Yang's left arm.
It felt heavier than expected.
Not physically, but in meaning.
Yang Yang stood taller. He understood what this meant. Leadership wasn't a reward — it was a burden, a responsibility, and a test. Shrinking from it meant you weren't ready, in football or in life. If you couldn't handle that pressure, you couldn't lead others.
He had accepted that when Ajax gave him the armband.
And now, with his country watching, he accepted it again.
"We're taking all three points today," Yang Yang said, voice strong, gaze steady.
The room lit up.
"Let's go!" came the reply — unified, loud, and full of purpose.