If anyone was more ecstatic than David Qin, it was Wu Lei. The weight of his missed sitter earlier in the match lived or died by the final whistle. Had they lost, he'd be the national scapegoat; since they won, it was a mere footnote.
Yet, as he watched David celebrate, a flush of shame crept up his neck. Can I really keep relying on a kid?
"I have to go abroad," he muttered to himself for the thousandth time.
Nearby, Gao Lin swiped some excess gel from his own head and slicked back David's hair into a sharp pompadour, grinning widely. "See? Now you look like a star."
"I don't know what it is with you center-forwards and the hair grease," David grumbled, though he quickly adjusted the style in a nearby reflection. He had a bit of an image to maintain, after all.
"You wouldn't understand," Gao Lin said, looking mysterious.
While the Chinese camp buzzed, the Iraqis were shrouded in a heavy silence. Kasim, the midfield engine, finally stood up. "Younis is in the hospital right now. Are we really just going to roll over? We were down against Iran in the quarters, too. There's still time. We can level this!"
Kasim wasn't afraid of losing. He was thinking of the people back home. If he couldn't bring them the joy of a trophy, he would at least bring them the pride of a team that refused to die. To them, football was the spine of a nation under fire.
"Let's go! Fight to the end!" the Iraqi players rallied for one last assault.
On the touchline, Radhi Shenaishil had hoped to save his final substitution for extra time, but with the clock ticking against them, he sent Hussein to warm up. Alain Perrin remained still. Experience told him that his defense had found its rhythm; a sudden change now might only invite chaos.
His intuition proved correct. As play resumed, Iraq launched a desperate siege. Even David Qin dropped back into his own half to assist the defense. However, lacking a creative spark in the middle, Iraq fell back on the "Route One" approach—hoofing long balls and whipping in hopeful crosses. The Chinese wing-backs, Zhang Linpeng and Ren Hang, slammed the door shut on every attempt.
Panic began to set in for the Iraqis. Long shots became their only currency.
"Here's Kasim from distance!" He Wei shouted. "It's a rocket! Brilliant save! Zeng Cheng doesn't take any chances, punching it clear with both fists. Veteran composure right there!"
Cai Huikang vacuumed up the second ball, shrugging off Kasim's pressure before clipping a long diagonal toward Gao Lin. The big striker held off Shakir, headed it down to Yu Hai, who flicked it first-time toward the left flank.
David Qin!
Despite the grueling tournament, David's lungs were still burning bright. As he attempted to burn past Salim with raw pace, the defender made a cynical choice. Salim hauled David down by the jersey, and the two went tumbling onto the grass in a tangle of limbs.
Whistle. Yellow card. Then, the red.
Salim didn't even argue. Two yellows. He knew he couldn't let David through; a third goal would have turned the "Miracle of Newcastle" into an impossibility. He walked off the pitch immediately, trying to save every second for his team.
Perrin seized the moment to make a tactical substitution, bleeding the clock and disrupting Iraq's desperate rhythm. "Jiang Zhipeng comes on for Mei Fang! Perrin is fortifying the flanks!"
The fourth official held up the board: 3 Minutes of Stoppage Time.
Fatigued muscles screamed, but the intensity only sharpened. 60... 59... 58... The Chinese fans counted down in their heads, hearts hammering against ribs. When Kasim's final desperate effort thudded into Zhang Linpeng's chest, Cai Huikang launched the ball into the night sky.
TWEEET—TWEEET—TWEEEEET!
"It's over!" He Wei's voice crackled with emotion. "A match defined by twists, turns, and sheer heart. China has secured the Bronze! They are the third-best team in Asia!"
"Their journey ends here, but what a journey it was. From failing to exit the group stages in the last two editions to standing on the podium today... as a fan, I am beyond satisfied. We owe it to the players, the fans, and Alain Perrin. But the real challenge—the World Cup Qualifiers—starts in June. Keep moving forward! Let the five-star red flag fly in Russia in 2018!"
He Wei watched as the players hoisted David Qin onto their shoulders. "The flag is flying, the song of victory is ringing..." the fans sang in unison. David felt the rush of wind as he was tossed into the air.
"Alright, alright! Put him down before you break him!" Perrin joked, protective of his star boy. "David, what's the plan? The Bundesliga restarts soon, doesn't it?"
"Wolfsburg plays Frankfurt tomorrow," David said, his voice a bit weary once his feet hit the ground. "I'll miss that one, obviously—I've already cleared it with Hecking. But I'm flying out tomorrow morning. I won't be heading back to China with the team."
The reality of the grind began to sink in. The Asian Cup was over, but the Bundesliga, the Europa League, and the DFB-Pokal were waiting.
Suddenly, a cold, mechanical chime echoed in his mind. A translucent screen shimmered into existence.
Stage Mission: Asian Cup Completed!
Completion Rating: A!
Rewards Available:
David froze, staring into space.
"You okay, David? Burnout?" Perrin waved a hand in front of his face.
"Oh... yeah, just a bit dizzy. I'm fine!" David blinked the screen away, deciding to check the details once he was alone.
"You're skipping the awards ceremony then?" Perrin asked.
"I have to. The final isn't until tomorrow, and the ceremony is after that. Someone can grab my Golden Boot for me." With nine goals, David was four ahead of the UAE's Mabkhout. Unless Mabkhout pulled off a five-goal miracle against Australia in the final, the trophy was David's.
"Fair enough. I'll drive you to the airport myself," Perrin nodded. "There are a few things we need to discuss regarding the future."
Back at the base, David locked his door and collapsed onto the bed. The system interface flared to life.
Reward: Select one of the following:
Template Integration +3%
Skill Proficiency +10% (Any skill)
Injury Detection & Treatment Module
David didn't hesitate. His integration was already at 81%, and skills could be ground out through training. But in the high-stakes world of European football, health was the only currency that mattered.
Injury Detection & Treatment Module:Periodically scans the host for latent physical risks and allows for the consumption of points to accelerate healing, effectively minimizing sports-related injuries.
"That's the one."
As he selected the third option, a wave of drowsiness washed over him, and he sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Outside, Gao Lin stopped Wu Lei from knocking on David's door. "Let him sleep. He's flying out tomorrow, and he can't eat this celebratory junk food anyway. The kid's played six matches in twenty days, most of them to the absolute limit. It breaks my heart seeing a kid that age carry us like that."
The veterans felt a pang of shame. They, the elders, had leaned on a teenager. It was a silent vow that echoed through the squad: when they returned to their clubs, the training would get harder. One butterfly's wings had started a hurricane.
The next morning, back in China, the news was dominated by a single story.
On the 7:00 AM national broadcast: "January 30, 2015. The Chinese Men's National Team secured the Asian Cup Bronze after a stunning comeback victory against Iraq, spearheaded by two goals from the teenage sensation, David Qin. This marks the team's best performance in a decade, having overcome giants like South Korea and Uzbekistan. We look forward to the World Cup Qualifiers in June..."
---------
If you want to read ahead, head over to: [email protected]/ HappyCrow
As always, thank you for the support, the comments, and those precious power stones!