"If you open your phones right now and search for the Hongjing Shifang road section, you'll see news about a bus being robbed at gunpoint. If you don't believe me, check for yourselves."
The students immediately reached for their phones, swiping through web pages with their grimy hands. After a moment, they discovered it was actually true.
"We've already confirmed it with the police," Lin Wanxing said.
Bizarre, absurd, grotesque—it was like a vast, dark painting that had sucked everyone in.
The entire locker room once again fell silent.
"What a fucking idiot," Qin Ao said, putting down his phone and taking a deep breath.
"Is he sick in the head?"
"Why did he have to come..."
"So, is he okay now?"
"He's fine."
"Isn't the rest stop really far from us? Can he even make it?"
Lin Wanxing shook her head. "He won't make it in time."
For the first ten minutes after hearing the news, the high schoolers from Hongjing No. 8 Middle School hadn't fully processed it.
There were too many questions, and their heads were spinning. After the initial disbelief came a vast sense of bewilderment.
Why would something like this happen?
Why did he have to come?
Why?
The halftime break was only a short fifteen minutes.
They had no time to digest the news before they had to return to the pitch.
Surrounding them was the formidable enemy they had to face. The players from both teams were scattered across the field, preparing for kickoff.
A lake wind blew from the southwest corner of the field, sending a chill through everyone.
Qin Ao looked up.
Across the field, Yongchuan Evergrande's two forwards stood at the center circle kickoff spot. Behind them, four midfielders stood in a line, and further back, another four defenders. The opponent's formation was impeccable; every single one of them looked ready to tear them apart.
And them? Five defenders stood in front of the penalty area, three midfielders stood in the middle, and at the very front, there was only him, all alone.
He suddenly turned his head.
He looked at the empty space in the defensive line behind him.
So, he... he fucking wanted to come?
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the highway rest stop, there was also a wetland lake.
A vast expanse of greenish-blue reeds surrounded the pale blue surface of the lake. When the wind blew, it sent ripples of green spreading across the water.
That halftime break was perhaps the most torturous moment Wen Chengye had ever experienced in his life.
He kept opening his chat with Lin Wanxing. He knew the break wasn't over yet, but he couldn't stop tapping on it. He watched the short video Lin Wanxing had sent him several more times, replaying the goal over and over.
He could have saved it.
Suddenly, a huge argument erupted in the rest stop lounge.
He looked up, bewildered, not knowing what was happening.
There seemed to be camera flashes and something else going on.
But he wasn't in that world at all. He was still trapped in that patch of reeds.
He suddenly wondered, why couldn't he have been a little earlier?
When the WeChat call came in.
Qin Qiechu's shot had just been blocked by Lin Lu. The ground was slippery, and both of them fell. The referee showed Lin Lu a yellow card.
Because the situation was so tense, Lin Wanxing didn't notice her phone vibrating at first.
Wang Fa glanced at her and pointed to her phone. Only then did Lin Wanxing realize it was ringing.
It was a video call.
When she answered, all she could see was a patch of gray and white floor tiles.
The image was trembling slightly.
Lin Wanxing took a few steps back and sat down on a bench in the rest area.
The damp lake wind brushed past her ear.
"Wen Chengye," she said slowly, composing herself.
For a while, there was only the gently shaking image of the floor on the other end of the video.
The dark clouds in the sky seemed to grow thicker.
"I'm not going to make it."
The voice came from the other end of the line.
A drop of rain landed on the back of her hand.
What did it feel like?
You thought that the goal in the final moments of the first half would be enough to crush this team.
Many games were like that. Everyone held their breath, and once that breath was let out, it was gone. They would just start playing apathetically in the second half—either with numb defending or with chaotic, aimless attacks.
But Hongjing No. 8 Middle School was a little different.
They clearly had no hope left. At the start of the second half, these players were still utterly dejected.
Why, then, did they quickly return to their original solid defensive formation after kickoff?
Qin Qiechu didn't understand.
But it didn't matter. He didn't need to understand his opponent's thoughts.
Even the sturdiest wall has a point where it can't withstand an assault.
So, after the kickoff, they immediately began a tireless offensive, frantically charging Hongjing No. 8's defensive line.
Brute force overcomes all.
Qin Qiechu quickly pulled to the wing, creating an opening with a forced breakthrough, then immediately lifted his foot and passed the ball.
The soccer ball shot into the penalty area. The players from both teams in the center missed it, and the ball flew toward the far post.
An Evergrande player, in a full sprint, shook off Fu Xinshu's defense and met the descending ball with a direct shot!
That heavy "thud" was like a sharp blow to the heads of the Hongjing No. 8 players.
The ball struck the crossbar and bounced high into the air.
It was a perfect opportunity, missed by just a hair!
Even Evergrande's head coach couldn't help but jump up on the sidelines.
The moment the ball bounced off the goal, Qin Ao was completely awake.
A cold drop of liquid landed on his brow.
He suddenly wondered, what goal was this?
...
The sixteenth goal.
At the sixteenth goal.
The dark clouds that had been gathering in the sky finally turned to rain.
The video call on the sidelines was still connected, but no one was speaking.
Lin Wanxing held up the phone, trying her best to let the person on the other end see the game clearly.
It was just a light drizzle, but when it landed on the rain shelter of the coaches' bench, it made a loud, pattering sound.
The rain made the already slick turf even more slippery.
A brutal collision occurred at the edge of the penalty area.
Fu Xinshu and Yongchuan Evergrande's number 11 forward crashed heavily into each other. Both clutched their foreheads, momentarily unable to recover.
Taking advantage of the pause in play, the Yongchuan Evergrande players went to the sidelines to change into long-studded cleats.
The head coach of the Yongchuan Evergrande youth team scraped his sole against the wet grass.
No team liked it when it rained during a match. The blades of grass would become exceptionally slippery when wet, and the frequently run-on parts of the field would turn muddy after being trampled. Both slippery and muddy conditions would have a greater effect on how the ball rolled on the ground.
Defensive teams hated the rain, but the rain had an even greater impact on the attacking side.
Inadvertently, he glanced again at the adjacent coaches' bench.
That person, from beginning to end, had not made a single gesture to command his players.
He just stood there silently on the sideline. Regardless of whether a defense was successful or not, he showed no emotion, unlike everyone else. It was as if this was a match that had nothing to do with him.
And yet, from the very beginning, he had his players change into long-studded cleats.
His players would expend more stamina to counteract the extra grip, and at the same time, sacrifice running speed in exchange for not falling for no reason, reducing potential defensive errors.
He suddenly sensed a purpose to the game that went beyond victory or defeat, but he couldn't grasp it.
He only felt that the other side was also gambling. But even if you bet that it would rain and that our attack would become more difficult...
So what?
You have no means of counter-attacking. This is a match destined to be without hope.
What are you betting on?
One foot after another, he stepped onto the muddy grass.
Fu Xinshu, soaked to the bone, stood up. His head still hurt badly and seemed to be swelling, but it didn't matter.
He, too, understood the coach's intention. This was a hellish trial of defense.
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