"CCTV! This is China Central Television!"
"Good evening to all our viewers back home!"
"We are live from Melbourne for the quarter-finals of the 2015 AFC Asian Cup! It's the showdown the continent has been waiting for: China versus South Korea!"
"The players are emerging from the tunnel now. Let's look at the lineups. Clad in their traditional red, China remains in Alain Perrin's preferred 4-2-3-1. There are subtle tweaks today; Cai Huikang and Sun Ke earn starts after their impressive shifts in the group stage, while the tireless Yu Hai leads the line as the lone striker."
"Perrin's selections were questioned early on, but the grit of this backline has silenced the critics. Zhang Linpeng leads the tournament's interception charts with sixteen, followed closely by Ren Hang and Mei Fang. They earned their spots through sheer tenacity, and they've repaid Perrin's faith in spades."
"As for the attack, the name on everyone's lips is David Qin. At just seventeen, he has become the undisputed star of this tournament, outshining even the likes of the Socceroos' legendary Tim Cahill. With five goals to his name, he sits comfortably at the summit of the Golden Boot race."
"And here come the Taegeuk Warriors in their white kits. With Lee Chung-yong and Koo Ja-cheol sidelined, South Korea struggled for control in the group stages, often over-relying on Son Heung-min to drive them forward. But make no mistake—the Bayer Leverkusen man is world-class, clinical, and capable of deciding a match in a heartbeat. Today, the spotlight is firmly on the duel between Son and David Qin. Who will emerge as the hero? We are about to find out."
He Wei took a sharp breath, his eyes fixed on the sea of red on the pitch. Across social media, the fans were already in mid-season form.
@RedDragon92: Honestly, the Korean lineup doesn't look that scary. Half these names are benchwarmers, right?
@TacticalGnome1: Careful what you wish for. Son, Ki Sung-yueng, Kim Jin-su—these are Big Five league players. They might not be household names yet, but they'll punish any mistake.
@GuuozuLoyalist: Kim Young-gwon plays in the CSL. He knows our guys' weaknesses better than anyone. That worries me.
@Dragon1Fanatic: David Qin, lead us to glory! Break the jinx!
The anthem began. David Qin stood in line with his teammates, his right hand pressed firmly over the national crest. Even after numerous caps, the opening chords of the national anthem sent a jolt of electricity through him. Behind the goal, a massive tifo unfurled against a crimson backdrop. Four simple words: FIGHT FOR THE NATION.
Twenty thousand Chinese voices joined in, a thunderous roar that shook the stadium.
Boom-boom-boom-boom! CHINA VICTORY!
The coin toss went to Zheng Zhi. He looked at the cloudless sky and the searing sun. He chose the end that would put the sun at their backs for the first half, knowing it would dip below the horizon by the second. It was a veteran move, the kind of marginal gain that wins knockout games.
Peep!
The match ignited instantly. South Korea looked for the early ambush, fizzing the ball to Son Heung-min. Stielike had deployed Son on the same flank as David Qin—a clear tactical statement: We will use our best weapon to suppress yours.
David didn't charge in. He dropped back two steps, waiting for Zheng Zhi and Mei Fang to provide the cover before stepping up to press. His tackling, however, was miles behind his dribbling. Son saw the intent, sold a subtle body feint, and accelerated past David's lunging effort.
But Mei Fang was there, cutting off the outside channel and forcing Son into the crowded middle where Zheng Zhi was waiting to pounce.
"The defensive coordination on the wings is far more mature than it used to be," the commentator noted. "Son is forced to recycle. Park Joo-ho of Mainz takes over. Korea is slowing it down after that failed blitz."
On the touchline, Perrin stood in his short sleeves, his mind racing. He knew the Korean engine room—Ki Sung-yueng and Nam Tae-hee—wasn't as dominant as in years past. Their game had become simplified: rapid, vertical transitions.
We have to keep the tempo high now, Perrin thought. If they played a slow game, their fitness would crater around the hour mark, right when Korea would unleash their fresh legs. Cha Du-ri's absence from the starting XI was a clear sign that Stielike was saving a "super-sub" for the final act. Perrin signaled his players to intensify the press.
In the 8th minute, Ki Sung-yueng spun away from Wu Lei in the center circle. As he tried to drive forward, Sun Ke was on him like a shadow—not lunging, just hounding, refusing to let the midfielder turn.
"Sun Ke is the quintessential 'engine' player. His work rate is second to none in the CSL," He Wei praised. "Look at that pressure!"
Despite the harassment, Ki managed to pivot and thread a needle of a through-ball. It zipped past Zhang Chengdong. Lee Keun-ho chased it down and squared it toward the middle. Nam Tae-hee saw Lee Jeong-hyeop making a run into the box, but just as he prepared the killer pass, a heavy shoulder sent him stumbling.
Thud!
The pass went awry, falling straight to Zhang Linpeng.
"Beautiful!" Perrin yelled, pumping a fist. Cai Huikang's intervention had saved them. He might have lost the tactical chess match to Stielike in the opening minutes, but his decision to start the powerhouse Cai over Wu Xi was paying dividends.
Zhang Linpeng didn't dither. He released Zhang Chengdong, who spotted the Korean press closing in and hammered a low, line-breaking ball down the flank.
"The build-up play from the back is night and day!" He Wei shouted. "Perrin said they spent three months drilling this to eliminate the panic-clearing of old. And here they go! Sun Ke!"
Sun Ke surged forward, pursued by Hoffenheim's Kim Jin-su. It was a drag race on the touchline.
"I'm through! In the middle!" Yu Hai roared, making a diagonal run into the right half-space.
Sun Ke didn't hesitate. He chopped back to create a yard of space and whipped the ball in. Kim Young-gwon, who knew Yu Hai's tendencies from the CSL, stepped up for the interception. But Yu Hai executed a perfect dummy, letting the ball roll through his legs.
The stadium held its breath as the ball found a red shirt in the box. Number 13.
Everything Perrin had built—the rotations, the defensive grit—was designed for this single moment: getting the ball to David Qin in the final third.
"Don't let him shoot!" South Korean keeper Kim Jin-hyeon screamed. He had seen the tapes of David's curling "rainbow" shots. He didn't want to be the next victim.
Kim Chang-soo lunged. David's eyes tracked the defender's momentum. He shifted his weight, feinting a cut inside.
The kid is nothing but smoke and mirrors, Kim thought. His brain knew it was a feint, but his body reacted instinctively to the danger. David sensed the commitment. He snapped his weight back, executing a sharp 'La Croqueta' to skip into space.
"He's beaten him!"
"The opening is there!"
David was too close to the byline to adjust to his right. He swung his left foot, drilling a powerful low shot toward the near post. Kim Jin-hyeon, already on high alert, reacted with a sprawling save to parry it for a corner.
"Maybe the pass was the better option," David muttered to himself. He'd seen Yu Hai ghosting toward the back post far too late. It was his old habit—tunnel vision during a dribble.
Don't just observe when you're on the ball, Kevin De Bruyne's advice echoed in his head. Scan the environment before the pass even reaches you. Anticipate the space.
"Great run, kid! Keep doing that!" Yu Hai yelled, oblivious to David's self-criticism. To him, David was already more lethal than any foreign import in the CSL.
"Hai-ge, keep making that run," David said, pointing to the back post. "I'll find you next time."
On the sidelines, Stielike wiped cold sweat from his brow despite the 30°C heat. That was too close. If that had gone in, his entire game plan would have crumbled.
"Son! Park! Tighten up!" he bellowed. "If you lose him again, you're coming off!"
The Koreans tightened their grip. Following the plan, they focused their assault on the right flank. Park Joo-ho and Son Heung-min shared a common trait: blistering pace. Under their relentless overlapping runs, Zheng Zhi began to tire. Even with Mei Fang dropping deep to help, the pressure was mounting.
David Qin found himself tracked so deep into his own half that his offensive threat was neutralized. It was exactly what Stielike wanted.
In the 29th minute, the trap snapped shut. Ki Sung-yueng surged past Cai Huikang, forming a lethal triangle with Lee Keun-ho and Nam Tae-hee. They exploited Cai's lack of mobility, creating a numerical overload. Sun Ke was caught too far up-field to help. Zhang Chengdong stepped up to challenge, but Kim Jin-su overlapped at lightning speed.
"Ki threads it through!"
"Kim Jin-su is away!"
"Zhang Linpeng is covering fast, but—"
Kim Jin-su whipped a cross to the near post, exactly where the space had opened after Zhang Linpeng's rotation. Lee Jeong-hyeop met it with a diving header.
Thwack!
The ball screamed into the left corner. Wang Dalei got a hand to it, but the power was too much.
0-1!!!
The ten thousand South Korean fans in Melbourne Park erupted. The Taegeuk flags waved in a frenzied white blur.
"I told you China couldn't hang with us!" one fan yelled. "David Qin is nothing without his European teammates!"
Stielike sat back on the bench, his face a mask of calm, as if this were all inevitable.
"Boss, that intel from Germany was spot on," his assistant whispered. "The kid is trapped in the midfield!"
Stielike had used his extensive Bundesliga connections to analyze David's weaknesses. They had figured out how to isolate him, and now they were testing the theory on the international stage.
"Choke off their left side, and they have nothing left," Stielike murmured.
Across the technical area, Perrin's jaw was set. He had expected to concede, but not this early. He had to pivot.
"SWAP!" Perrin signaled, making a crossing motion with his hands.
David Qin nodded. He caught Sun Ke's eye. It was time to change the game.
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