His body was utterly exhausted.
He had just learned that the match had reached the 61st minute.
So they had been holding on for this long.
Facing Yongchuan Evergrande, the 1-0 score had persisted until now.
What if... they had one more player?
Such thoughts inevitably surfaced in his mind.
Perhaps the defensive line they had worked so hard to maintain would be easily torn apart by that person.
Perhaps they would argue, curse at each other, perhaps they wouldn't be able to coordinate at all.
Just as he had firmly believed before.
But what if...
What if he were here?
Would there be another possibility for them?
In the curtain of rain, Fu Xinshu felt an immense wall towering before him, reaching into the clouds.
He had once thought that no matter how hard he ran, he could never scale this wall called fate.
But now, standing on what might be the second-to-last match of his life, at this great dividing line named fate—
He suddenly realized how laughable his "once thought" had been.
He couldn't scale this wall not because he hadn't run hard enough, but because he had given up.
He believed Wen Chengye didn't want to win, so he gave up too.
But now, he was filled with regret. He was deeply, deeply regretful.
The twentieth attack.
Feng Suo didn't actually know this was Yongchuan Evergrande's twentieth organized attack of the match.
Yongchuan Evergrande's players were mostly technically skilled, but the rain hindered ground attacks, forcing them to play long balls.
No need for elaborate tactics or coordination—just continuously launching long passes into the penalty area and competing for headers. Evergrande kept crossing from the wings, sending balls through the center, directly into the penalty area looking for opportunities.
They had at least four or five players in the penalty area ready to attack the ball. Everyone knew Hongjing No. 8 Middle School couldn't mount an effective offense, so they had little to fear.
Qin Qiechu dropped back to receive the ball before distributing it wide. The winger forcefully broke past Lin Lu's defense. Though Lin Lu tenaciously turned to chase, his steps were already unsteady.
The Yongchuan Evergrande full-back shook off Lin Lu in one burst, cut into the penalty area, and faced Zheng Feiyang who had moved to cover. With a deft touch, he floated the ball to the far post. Fang Sulun cleverly followed up, meeting the ball with an aerial strike.
The football shot toward the goal, the rain blurring Feng Suo's vision.
He threw his entire body at the ball. The next moment, he crashed heavily into the goalpost and collapsed on the goal line, covered in mud.
The football was securely trapped beneath him.
Wen Chengye held his phone, feeling as if he too were drenched in that heavy rain.
In the video, the goalkeeper remained on the ground for a long time.
He could faintly hear some dialogue between Lin Wanxing and the coach on the sidelines, but couldn't make out the words clearly.
It was too far away. His grip on the phone tightened, knuckles turning white.
The battery was running critically low when another WeChat notification popped up:
"You're just like your mother."
Wen Chengye felt no anger.
The rest stop was bitterly cold as he curled up on the chair.
He only thought that perhaps this wasn't wrong.
If they were different...
He shouldn't be sitting here.
He could have left earlier, could have communicated properly, could have tried to cooperate.
But he didn't.
He never bowed his head.
So he was here, not there.He was trapped in the narrow, endless track within his own heart, thus losing the chance to stand on that field.
He deeply regretted it.
He refused to accept it.
The rain on the field grew heavier.
The twenty-first ball.
Qi Liang leaped to head the ball clear, but a Yongchuan Evergrande player couldn’t retract his foot in time, and his studded boot struck Qi Liang squarely in the face.
The twenty-second ball.
Lin Lu threw his entire body forward, blocking a cross.
The twenty-third ball.
Qin Ao had already fallen but still used his body to forcibly obstruct Fang Sulun, dragging both of them down into the muddy grass.
An Evergrande player took a corner kick, sending the ball near the goal. Feng Suo rushed out to catch it.
But a gust of wind blew, and raindrops stung his eyes. He blinked, slowing down just a fraction.
Feng Suo failed to secure the ball. It flew past his hands, arcing toward the far post...
Lin Lu leaped there, ready to head it away.
An Evergrande defender, surging forward for the attack, used his height to overpower Lin Lu, twisting his head to shoot!
The ball instantly changed direction, flying toward the empty net. Qin Ao, guarding the goal, threw himself forward, stretching out a foot at the last moment to volley the ball away!
At that very moment, Qin Qiechu abruptly appeared in the ball’s trajectory.
No one knew where he had come from.
The angle was awkward, his posture contorted—there was no room for a shot in that situation. He simply positioned his chest in the ball’s path!
The ball Qin Ao had cleared slammed into his chest, then rebounded, flying straight into the net.
The rain poured down in sheets.
The referee’s whistle pierced the sky, yet the field fell into an eerie silence.
Qin Ao knelt before the goal, head bowed, staring at his hands.
He remembered standing on the podium and declaring, "We are prepared to face defeat!"
To hell with defeat—he wasn’t ready at all!
"Ah!" he roared, tilting his head back to the sky.
He slammed his fist into the ground.
A gentle pat landed on his shoulder.
Fu Xinshu trudged over, step by step, to stand beside him.
The captain’s forehead was still swollen, his face smeared with mud and grass stains.
"I always thought he didn’t want to win, but in truth, he wanted it more than any of us," Fu Xinshu murmured, head lowered.
Qin Ao stared at his hands, still pressed into the ground, and suddenly recalled the punch he had thrown at Wen Chengye.
Fu Xinshu extended a hand to him. "At the very least, from now on, we can’t lose to him. We have to want victory even more than he does."
Qin Qiechu stood beside them.
No gestures were left to make.
He watched as Qin Ao placed his hand in Fu Xinshu’s, saw him summon every ounce of strength to rise to his feet once more.
Qin Ao thought.
Wang Fa had asked them: Which ball did they want to defend?
Not any particular ball.
But this one, and the next!
This was a match where no matter how many balls you defended, victory would never come.
So why keep going?
Because they refused to accept it.
The final whistle echoed across Dongming Lake.
0–2. Hongjing No. 8 Middle School suffered their fourth consecutive defeat.
Unnoticed, the rain began to ease.
A breeze swept over the lakeside field, stirring layers of misty rain.
Everyone stood frozen in place.
Time seemed to stand still at that moment.
Lin Wanxing’s phone was silent, no messages on WeChat. Yet she could almost hear the faint rustling of reeds from Wen Chengye’s side.
"I’m such an idiot," Wen Chengye said.
"I’ve done the stupidest things in my life, faced the most ridiculous outcome, and I feel like a complete joke."He sat in the lounge, with waterfowl chirping outside the window and verdant reeds swaying in the breeze. Yet he was utterly exhausted, having run such a long, long way on a narrow track that seemed endless, leading to a finish line he could never reach.
A boundary called Fate lay ahead.
Taking one step forward would only plunge him back into the sea of suffering, where he might encounter the most absurd circumstances and bizarre encounters, never to be freed for eternity.
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