"The whistle blows! It's over! China has advanced!"
"Since their runner-up finish in 2004, China has been bounced in the group stages for two consecutive tournaments. Today, they haven't just broken their quarter-final hoodoo; they've toppled South Korea to storm into the final four!"
"Looking back at this breathtaking encounter—from trailing early to equalizing, taking the lead, and then being pulled back level... if you have a weak heart, this was not the match for you."
He Wei paused, fighting to steady his breathing. He glanced toward the adjacent commentary booth where the South Korean broadcasters sat, their faces masks of profound sorrow.
"I recited a line earlier: 'If you aren't wild when you're young, you've wasted your youth.' Now, a different phrase comes to mind: A hero among youth!"
"At just seventeen, David Qin has become the undisputed sun around which the Melbourne Rectangular Stadium orbits. With two goals and an assist, he has announced himself to the world, making his debut Asian Cup campaign glitter with brilliance. Had this gone to extra time, I don't believe China could have survived. Yet, under staggering pressure, he found the opening and seized it. The boy has ice in his veins!"
He Wei looked down at the pitch. The teenager was swept up in the arms of his teammates, a portrait of vibrant, unbridled spirit.
Once, He Wei had famously said: "Even if Chinese football is everyone's spittoon, it is still my Holy Grail." Today, the spittoon was gone. For the first time in years, he didn't have to utter the dreaded phrase: 'Time is running out for China.'
His voice cracked. As a professional and a lover of the game, he had waited an eternity for this moment. His words rippled across the web, reaching millions of fans back home. It was 6:00 PM in Melbourne, 4:00 PM on a Thursday in Beijing—not a holiday, yet office buildings, subways, and street corners erupted in muted, clenched-fist celebrations.
These fans knew the reality. The National Team wasn't "eleven men picked from 1.4 billion"; it was eleven men picked from a few thousand professionals, fighting against nations with pools of hundreds of thousands. By sweeping the group stages and slaying the "Koreaphobia" demon, they had turned the dream of the 2018 World Cup from a joke into a genuine ambition.
"Not every fan is lucky enough to be born in a footballing powerhouse," He Wei continued his closing monologue. "But that doesn't stop football from being the world's most popular sport. We crave the blood, the passion, the undulations of hope and despair. This team—singing the anthem with pride, fighting for every inch, lunging into dangerous tackles without fear—that is the essence of the sport. I believe today, this team has reclaimed the hearts of the Chinese people."
Post-Match: Melbourne Rectangular Stadium
The stands were a sea of vibrant red; the Korean supporters had long since vanished.
"Zheng-ge, how about that final sequence? Did I blind you with the brilliance?" David Qin joked, parading around shirtless.
"I was too far away to see much," Zheng Zhi deadpanned, though his eyes betrayed his awe. He had seen enough—David had turned the Korean defense into a pile of tangled limbs in a matter of seconds.
Zheng Zhi mentally swapped himself into the position of his Evergrande teammate, Kim Young-gwon, and felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Talk about a career-defining nightmare, he thought. No wonder the Koreans had vanished into the tunnel the moment the handshakes ended.
"David, do you think that winner has a shout for the Puskás Award?" Wu Lei asked, his eyes wide.
"Can an Asian Cup goal actually win that?" David asked, genuinely curious.
"Of course!" Wu Lei gestured wildly. "Remember James Rodríguez last year? Chest trap, volley, bang! Just like that!"
"True. Well, I'm pretty satisfied with it. Maybe it has a chance."
"Don't worry, it's yours!" Gao Lin interjected with a grin. "Do you know how the Puskás is decided? FIFA puts the videos online and fans vote. And we have... well, a lot of fans."
David threw his arms around Gao Lin and Zheng Zhi. "If I win, I'm treating you all to Dim Sum."
"Just Dim Sum?" Gao Lin scoffed. "You're taking us to the Bauhinia Club, at least!"
While Perrin praised David's "genius" in the press conference and Stielike faced a firing squad of Korean journalists demanding a "settling of accounts," the rest of the world was catching the fever.
The Guardian: "One of the most gifted players in history. At 17, David Qin is shattering records. Several Premier League clubs have reportedly submitted bids to Wolfsburg, with Manchester City's offer rumored to exceed €43 million."
Marca: "Rivaldo suggests David Qin join Barcelona. 'He must be smart; he needs people to help him grow. At Barça, he would be surrounded by the best.'"
Back in Germany, Die Wölfe were not amused. Dieter Hecking cut his holiday short, racing back to the training ground. However, a long phone call from David settled his nerves. David had no "Barça Dream" or "Real Dream" yet. He knew Wolfsburg—with its great teammates, supportive coach, and stable environment—was the perfect laboratory for his growth. Moving to a giant now, where he couldn't play Champions League and might rot on the bench, would be foolish.
The Semifinal Scout
The following day, the team gathered to watch Japan vs. UAE.
"The Blue Samurai are heavy favorites here," the TV analyst noted. "With Korea out, it's Japan's tournament to lose."
The room watched in silence as Japan dominated possession (64%) and rained down 32 shots. But the UAE sat deep, "parking the bus" with grim determination. Against the run of play, Mabkhout stunned the favorites with a clinical finish. Though Japan eventually equalized through Shibasaki, the match dragged into a penalty shootout.
"Unbelievable! Shinji Kagawa and Keisuke Honda both miss!"
"Are they in a hurry to get back to the Bundesliga and Serie A? Dortmund is in a relegation scrap, after all!" the commentator joked. "In a massive upset, China's semifinal opponent will be the UAE!"
Wu Lei blinked at the screen. "Holy crap."
Everyone had assumed they would be facing the tactical juggernaut of Japan. Now, they faced a UAE side that had survived by the skin of their teeth.
"They won't park the bus against us," Gao Lin mused. "But Japan's luck was hauntingly bad today."
"Japan played poorly," David added simply. He had played against Kagawa's Dortmund before Christmas and noticed the playmaker's dip in form since returning from Manchester United.
Perrin clapped his hands, a sharp, upbeat sound. "I'll take this result. Rest up today. Tomorrow, we start the tactical prep. We're going for the final!"
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