Chapter 1 The Beginning
"Friends, the time is now 6:10 PM Beijing time. You just saw the Chinese National Olympic team's bus enter the stadium. They will face the Syrian National Olympic team here. The Athens Olympic football qualifiers, postponed due to SARS, will restart today! The Chinese team must defeat Syria to qualify for the top twelve. What answers will the new National Olympic team, composed of a new coach and new players, bring us?"

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"Ahhh! The first big test!" Xiang Tao shouted, looking at the enthusiastic fans in the stands.

Li Suisheng, standing beside him, silently straightened his jersey with a blank expression. "Hey, aren't you nervous at all?" Xiang Tao nudged Li Suisheng.

"This kind of match doesn't seem to require nervousness." Before Li Suisheng could finish speaking, Gu Qi bumped into him from behind. "Ah, sorry, sorry..." Li Jie apologized while retreating, inadvertently stepping on Wang Yu's foot. "Hey, watch out!"

Xiang Tao sighed, looking at his teammates in a chaotic mess.

At this moment, Qiu Suhui was patting his chest, guaranteeing to Chen Wei, who had come to supervise the battle, "There are no problems with the team, we will definitely take down Syria!"

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"Good evening, viewers! You are now seeing the starting lineup of the Chinese National Olympic team. The National Olympic team is using a 4-4-2 diamond formation. The goalkeeper is number 1, Sima Hongxin. The four defenders are number 2, Wang Liang, number 5, Liu Peng, number 6, Li Suisheng, and number 3, Xiang Tao. The defensive midfielder is number 14, Wang Yu, and the attacking midfielder is number 10, Lin Feng. The left midfielder is number 8, Zhao Pengyu, and the right midfielder is number 21, Zheng Chuan. The two forwards are number 9, Li Jie, and number 11, Hu Bin. Perhaps these names are still unfamiliar to the audience, but after this game, they will surely become familiar to everyone. As a legendary figure in Chinese football in the 1980s, what changes has Qiu Suhui, the head coach of the National Olympic team, brought to the team after returning from studying in the Netherlands?"

"Next is the starting lineup of the Syrian National Olympic team..."

"Wow! I don't recognize any of them!" Someone shouted in the cafeteria of R University. "The Chinese Football Association really has the guts to find a bunch of new players, and then let a new coach lead them, thinking they can get into the Olympics?"

"The Super Platinum Generation has been disbanded, so what should we call this group of people?"

"The Brain Platinum Generation."

"Wow haha! That's so fitting!"

Li Yongle sat in the front, looking up at the TV, ignoring the surrounding discussions. He was the first to wear a jersey printed with the Chinese national flag, and now it was Liu Peng and the others' turn. However, the attention he received was far less than that of Liu Peng's National Olympic team. After a transfer storm, Zhang Jun was enjoying unlimited success in the Netherlands. And Liu Peng and the others were about to start their once-every-four-year journey. What about himself? After returning from Korea, he nursed his injuries for two weeks, and then led R University to win the championship trophy of the University League in Chengdu. After that, he was still an ordinary college student, sitting in front of the TV watching other people's performances.

"The referee from India blows the whistle, and the game begins!"

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The referee blew the whistle, awarding Syria a free kick in the attacking zone. Just now, a Syrian player dribbled past Zhao Pengyu, whose body was stiff with nervousness, but he was tackled from the side and rear by Xiang Tao, who was chasing back at high speed.

Jumping up from the ground, Xiang Tao completely ignored the referee's whistle. He shouted to Zhao Pengyu, "Xiaoyu! Relax a little, if you keep acting like this, I'll get sent off, you idiot! Did yesterday's paper dolls work?"

Zhao Pengyu pointed his thumb down. "Mind your own business!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he saw the referee signaling for the stretcher to come on the field. Then, as soon as the injured player left the field, the fourth official raised a sign indicating that Syria was making a substitution, replacing the player who had just been tackled by Xiang Tao.

"Looks like, it seems to have worked..."

The game had only just started for fourteen minutes, and due to an accidental injury, Syria's tactical arrangements were completely disrupted. Xiang Tao's fierce tackle became the turning point of the match.

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"...Shot, goal!! Number 9, Li Jie! This is his first goal for the National Olympic team at the age of 20!"

Li Jie looked back at the football in the goal, confirming that his header had really gone in, before excitedly running towards the coaching bench. There, Qiu Suhui had already jumped up.

"Wahahaha! Don't forget my brilliant assist!" Zhao Pengyu shouted wildly, pulling Li Jie down in front of the coaching bench, and then the two of them were immediately crushed under the bodies of their excited teammates.

"Zhao Pengyu, 20 years old from Beijing, it was he who relied on his speed on the left wing to break through two opposing defenders, and then successfully crossed to assist Li Jie, who is one meter eighty-eight tall, to score the first goal!"

The Chinese fans in the stands cheered. Before the game, no one expected these young kids to perform so well, but they gave everyone a big surprise.

"In the thirty-second minute of the first half, Li Jie's goal gives China a 1-0 lead over the Syrian National Olympic team! Beautiful!!"

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"That was really beautiful!" Li Jie was still savoring his goal in the first half. "Player A crosses, number 9, Li Jie, leaps high, a powerful header! Goal! Goal!!"

"Hey, who's 'Player A'?" Zhao Pengyu grumbled.

"Hehe, just kidding. Your breakthrough and cross were very beautiful! It seems like you've been working very hard these days!" Li Jie patted Zhao Pengyu on the shoulder, feeling great after scoring a goal.

"Hey! Don't forget about me!" Xiang Tao took off his shoes to let his feet air out. "If I hadn't tackled their main right back first, would Xiaoyu have had such an easy time breaking through and crossing?"

Everyone turned to look at Xiang Tao, and then shouted at Zhao Pengyu again, "Yeah, yeah! Xiaoyu's breakthrough and cross are simply a nightmare for the opposing defenders!"

"Hmph!" Xiang Tao snorted, reluctantly sitting down in a chair to rest.

"Looks like the paper dolls you stabbed last night worked," Li Suisheng said, sitting down next to Xiang Tao. "I heard Xiaoyu say that when he was stabbing that right back, he was stabbing his left leg. And you..." he pointed at Xiang Tao, "... injured his left leg."

"...Coincidence, right?"

"Yeah, we really should have burned all those paper dolls last night, that would have made things even easier today." Li Suisheng stroked his chin, thoughtfully.

"..."

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At the start of the second half, Syria, unwilling to accept defeat, launched several threatening attacks in the Chinese team's half. At this time, the defense led by Liu Peng finally had a chance to show their stuff.

With a powerful header, Liu Peng cleared the opponent's cross for the second time. In terms of aerial dominance, Syria was no match for Liu Peng, who was one meter eighty-eight tall, and Li Suisheng, who was one meter eighty-seven tall. Even so, Syria rarely made effective crosses. Xiang Tao's fierce defense on the left wing was self-evident. Syria's attack on the left wing also met with great resistance. Compared to Xiang Tao, who liked to assist in attacks, right back Wang Liang focused more on defense. His ability to intercept head-on and accurately cut off the opponent's attack made the opposing attackers return empty-handed time and time again.

Coupled with the silent giant behind the defenders, Syria couldn't gain any advantage. Although the defenders had performed well, as the captain, Liu Peng didn't want to be so busy all the time. He intercepted the opponent's breakthrough again, and then passed the ball to Wang Yu. "Use offense to suppress them, don't let them keep attacking. We'll move the defensive line forward, just like Qiu-tou (nickname) said before the game."

Wang Yu nodded. "Okay." He didn't turn around and carry the ball forward, but instead passed it directly to the left wing.

"Xiaoyu, clear the way for me!" Xiang Tao rushed forward at high speed, while Zhao Pengyu cut inside, drawing the Syrian midfield defense. Xiang Tao took advantage of the situation to dribble the ball along the wing at high speed!

Qiu Suhui had repeatedly emphasized in regular training that the wingbacks should carry the ball to assist in the attack. Be bold and press forward, and once Xiang Tao rushed up, his teammates should give him enough support. Because the quality of such an attack was very important. If done well, it could give the opponent a surprise attack, but if done poorly, it would immediately put the team in a passive position.

But this time, Xiang Tao didn't rush all the way to the baseline and cross like he did in training. He had just passed the midfield when he kicked the ball to the right side of the field, where Zheng Chuan was rushing forward.

Quickly transferring the ball from one side to the other during an attack was a characteristic of Dutch Total Football. This kind of wide-ranging sudden transfer could effectively mobilize the opponent's defense and find openings. Just now, Xiang Tao's sudden forward rush on the left wing caused Syria to shift its defensive focus to that side, creating a huge space on the right, which Zheng Chuan's insertion took advantage of.

Football, to put it bluntly, is a sport that creates and fully utilizes space and time. Qiu Suhui had said this to his players more than once.

Zheng Chuan brought the ball down beautifully, and then swung his leg... He didn't cross, but instead cut past the hastily arrived wingback, and then cut diagonally towards the ribs of the penalty area!

He was going to break through!

Two Syrian players came to block him, but Zheng Chuan didn't continue to drill inside. Instead, he passed the ball directly to his diagonal rear.

Wang Yu appeared in the direction of the ball. Syria's defense had been disrupted by the transfer just now. The defensive midfielder was out of position, and no one was marking Wang Yu! Wang Yu made a slight adjustment with his right foot, and then shot!

The football rolled quickly along the ground into the lower left corner of the goal, beyond the goalkeeper's reach!

2:0! China extended their lead!

Wang Yu and Zheng Chuan, who assisted him, hugged each other, and the other players quickly surrounded them. This goal was so satisfying!

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The stands erupted! A newly formed National Olympic team was actually leading the Syrian National Olympic team 2-0! This was something that few people could have imagined before the game, but they actually did it!

Chen Wei sat on the podium, watching the National Olympic team hugging each other. Maybe they really could create a miracle, maybe they really could let us see hope. He said this to himself in his heart. In just over two months, Qiu Suhui had turned a group of scattered troops into such a fighting force, and his abilities were once again proven.

In the end, the Chinese team defeated the Syrian National Olympic team 2-0, who had said before the game that they would take all three points, giving the Chinese people hope of advancing to Athens. But when the Syrian National Olympic team left Kunming, their head coach, Shamas, said very unwillingly to Chinese reporters, "Don't be happy too soon, leading by two goals doesn't mean anything, we have the ability to turn the tables on our home field!"

Many people ridiculed Shamas for talking big, but they didn't see the firm light in his eyes.

"The match in seven days is the decisive battle!" Shamas said affirmatively, pointing at the Chinese reporters.

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The match in seven days is the decisive battle...

Qiu Suhui paced anxiously on the sidelines. "Press up! Create offsides!"

Just seven days, it seemed they had put in a lot of effort. The Syrian National Olympic team didn't want to lose in front of their home crowd. They suddenly exerted their strength, and after seventy-five minutes of the match, they were actually leading 3-0! The three goals conceded weren't the fault of any one person, but the result of the entire team's poor performance.

The complete victory at home had made the players somewhat lax and complacent. After all, they were newcomers, and their thinking was still too simple. They thought that the two-goal advantage at home was enough to get the team into the next stage of the competition. But the Syrians, forced into a corner, erupted with surprising energy. In just ten minutes of the first half, they forced Xiang Tao to commit a foul in the penalty area, scoring a penalty kick. Then, when they scored the second and third goals, the Chinese team members, who were too relaxed, couldn't even get nervous.

Time was passing by minute by minute, but the Chinese team's attack was a complete mess. Everyone seemed to not know what to do.

Qiu Suhui felt a little scared in his heart. Shamas had seen through his personnel configuration and used counter-attacking defense on his home field, catching him off guard. Could the National Olympic team be stopped here? He began to regret why he hadn't recalled Zhang Jun and Yang Pan. At least Zhang Jun wouldn't have let go of the two golden opportunities just now. 0:3 was like a huge burden, pressing on the players' hearts, preventing them from performing even half of their usual level.

At this time, it seemed like they needed someone who could calm things down, but looking at the players on the field, who was up to the task?

Xiang Tao threw himself forward, using his body to block the ball, but he still spat on the ground with force. Why, in just seven days, had the opponents become so strong? Everything they did seemed to work.

Trailing 0:3, if this score was maintained until the end of the match, they would be eliminated. But what could he do? As long as we score one goal, one goal and we can win.

Syria took a throw-in, Zhao Pengyu was pressing closely, but the opponents were clearly more experienced. They kicked the ball off Zhao Pengyu's feet, and it bounced out of bounds again. They were starting to stall for time so early, Xiang Tao watched, his heart burning with anger.

"Xiaoyu, don't go up and press them!"

Zhao Pengyu was stunned, allowing the opponent to throw the ball in smoothly. The player with the ball adjusted his direction, and was about to comfortably cross when Xiang Tao rushed up and intercepted the ball head-on with a tackle. "You son of a bitch!"

And the Syrian player also fell into the penalty area at the same time.

Zhu Qiang stood up from the bench. If the referee gave a penalty kick, it would be over!

And the other Syrian players were also signaling to the referee that Xiang Tao's action was a foul. But the referee ignored them and turned to run back. The Syrian players didn't argue too much, after all, they were leading by three goals.

And at this time, Xiang Tao, who had intercepted the ball, had already rushed up with the ball himself, and was sprinting towards the Syrian half.

When Wang Yu saw this, he knew Xiang Tao was coming again! He quickly ran to cover him.

"Xiang Tao is carrying the ball himself! He's very fast! China is launching a counterattack, he's carrying the ball, he's still carrying it! He's still carrying it! A Syrian player rushed up, but was bumped away by Xiang Tao! Xiang Tao continues to carry the ball, his momentum is amazing!"

Seeing that he was getting closer and closer to the opponent's defense line, Xiang Tao didn't hesitate anymore. He raised his foot to shoot from twenty-five meters out!

"The ball hit the leg of an opposing defender and flew out of the baseline! Xiang Tao's shot was too forced! Maybe it would have been better to pass it to Li Jie on the wing. What a pity!" The commentator sighed heavily. In his opinion, Xiang Tao's previous breakthrough was very beautiful, but the final choice to shoot was a bit selfish.

"China has won a corner kick, it's the eighty-seventh minute now. Liu Peng has rushed up, and Li Suisheng is also lurking in the penalty area. And Xiang Tao, who just shot, China has only left Wang Liang to guard the half, almost all of them are attacking!"

Lin Feng took the corner kick, and the Syrian penalty area was in chaos. In the chaos, a figure leapt high, a powerful header!

"Goal!!" the commentator roared, "1:3, China pulls one back! Beautiful header! Let's see who it is... Xiang Tao! It's Xiang Tao! It's Xiang Tao! He scored his first goal for the National Olympic team, and it's such a crucial goal!"

Xiang Tao pushed away the Syrian player in front of him and ran towards the coaching bench. While running, he took off his jersey and threw it aside, rushing into the boiling crowd with his bare upper body! He didn't even care about getting a yellow card!

"After giving away a penalty kick, he used his header to tie the overall score for China, and took advantage of the away goal! Xiang Tao, this twenty-one-year-old young man, has saved China!"

Qiu Suhui hugged Xiang Tao tightly. "Good boy! Well done! Well done! Well d..."

"Coa, coach..."

"What's wrong?"

"I, I can't breathe, cough cough!"

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"There are five minutes left, we must hold on!" All the substitute players were standing on the sidelines, shouting into the field. If they could hold on for five more minutes, they would enter the final stage of the competition.

Qiu Suhui, on the other hand, sat on the coaching bench without saying a word. All three substitutions had been used, and now it was up to the players on the field to perform. There was nothing he could do to help.

The Syrian players crossed the ball, Liu Peng contested for the first point, but the second point he headed down was snatched by the Syrians. The opponent took a powerful shot in the penalty area, but Xiang Tao blocked it out of bounds with his body.

Then, the referee blew the whistle to end the match. Relying on Xiang Tao's goal at the last moment, the Chinese team eliminated the Syrian National Olympic team due to the advantage of away goals.

But for this young National Olympic team, it wasn't time to relax and enjoy the joy of entering the final stage of the competition. The domestic media and fans were already waiting for them, not with flowers and wine, but with criticism and scolding.

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Li Jie connected his laptop to the Internet, preparing to go online. "You're still planning to go online?" Zhao Pengyu looked at his roommate in surprise.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you really pretending not to know? The whole country is scolding us to no end now, especially online. I don't want you to smash the computer."

"It's not that serious, is it?" Li Jie dialed up and opened the news website, clicking into the National Olympic sports section. Behind the news "National Olympic Team Loses 1:3 to Syria Away, Enters the Next Round Relying on Away Goals," almost all of the comments were condemnations and abuse.

"Disband the National Olympic team! Let them die!"

"Those trash are worthy of wearing the National Olympic jersey?"

"Qiu SB took a bunch of little SB's to Syria, and came back with a giant SB game!"

"Are they thinking about how much money they can make in the future? Why are they all like sleepwalking?"

"What did the National Olympic team do together at night?"

"Down with the Chinese Pig Association! Down with Qiu Pig! Down with the Chinese National Olympic Pig Team!"

"Rather than entering the top twelve like this, it would be better to let them die in Syria!"

"I hope the National Olympic team can't get into Athens, so they don't lose face for the Chinese!"

"Execute them all!"

"Ah? You guys still watch Chinese football? Laughing my ass off! Ever since that Luo SB let Qiu SB be the head coach of the National Olympic team, I haven't watched it, there's no hope!"

...

Li Jie's hands were shaking. After the first game, everyone was full of praise, why did they all start scolding like they didn't recognize him seven days later? When Zhao Pengyu saw that Li Jie's face was not right, he quickly rushed over to protect the computer. Li Jie's laptop was their only entertainment tool, who would be responsible if it was smashed?

"Calm down, calm down!"

But Li Jie ignored Zhao Pengyu. He sat on the bed, feeling aggrieved and wanting to cry. "Why did everyone's attitude change so quickly? We weren't eliminated, we were the ones who won in the end!"

"Idiot, who told us to perform so differently in the two games? After watching the first game, everyone thought we would win Syria away without any problems. As a result..." Zhao Pengyu disconnected the Internet cable. He would rather stare at the blue desktop than face the flood of anger online.

The two fell silent. Perhaps they should have had this awareness when they happily entered the National Olympic team: the five-star red flag on their chest wasn't for showing off. Now that they had put on this jersey, they had to give everything for it, including enduring criticism and insults. Sooner or later they would have to face this kind of situation, which player wouldn't be scolded? Especially in China. They were still young, and things would get better in the future, because by then they would all be used to it.

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"Ah! The National Olympic team is being scolded badly now!"

"Yeah, yeah, they played too poorly in the away game!"

"Hmm?" A player saw Wu Shangshan passing by and quickly stopped him. "Xiao Wu! Look, look, the National Olympic team played really badly! They're public enemy number one now! Luckily you quit the National Olympic team, haha! Otherwise, you would have regressed being in that kind of trash team!"

But Wu Shangshan turned his head and gave the other person a fierce look. "Dare to say what you just said one more time?"

"Hey, hey? What's going on?" Watching Wu Shangshan walk towards him step by step, he was frightened. "Just kidding, just kidding, no need to be so nervous, right?"

Wu Shangshan continued to walk towards him, and then brushed past him. A person who is one meter eighty-six tall is still somewhat intimidating to a person who is one meter seventy tall.

Then, Wu Shangshan ignored him and continued towards the training ground.

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The pressure Qiu Suhui faced was far greater than that of the players. In addition to the denunciations from the media and fans, the pressure from the Football Association had left him exhausted. After returning from Syria, the National Olympic team was disbanded on the spot and given a week's vacation. But as the head coach, he had to stay in the capital to accept questioning from the leaders.

Why didn't he make substitutions when he faced difficulties in the away game?

Why were the two games so different?

Why did he disband the previous National Olympic team and find some young people who rarely played in professional leagues?

Why did he implement a closed training that lasted for two months?

Why did he conceal the conflicts within the team?

Why did he neglect the ideological education of the players?

Why didn't he recall Zhang Jun and Yang Pan?

Why...

Qiu Suhui's head was spinning. Within a week, there were five reflection and summary meetings, and he was the target of criticism at every meeting. It was as if they wanted him to stand on the podium wearing a tall hat and fly a plane. If Chen Wei hadn't been defending him all along, he might have really been dismissed by Luo Wenqiang. It was obvious that the head of the Football Association had a very bad complexion.

To be a pioneer of Chinese football. This was the bold statement he made in the Netherlands, but now, however he looked at himself, he seemed like a "scavenger," suffering everywhere, struggling to move forward.

Criticism was criticism, but in front of the news media, the Chinese Football Association still strongly supported Qiu Suhui, and said to the reporters with a smiling face, "The Football Association trusts Qiu Suhui's ability."

They couldn't slap themselves in the face, could they? Besides, no matter what, the National Olympic team had finally crossed the hurdle of Syria after being hastily formed for more than two months.

And with the FIFA Women's World Cup in the United States about to begin, the Football Association could take a breather. Because everyone's attention was focused on the United States, on the Chinese women's football team that had brought countless honors and prestige to China.

Unfortunately, fate played tricks on them, and the last fig leaf of the Chinese Football Association was torn off by the Canadian women's football team, who had entered the knockout stage of the competition for the first time. The women's football team, which represented the glorious years of Chinese football, had finally become a thing of the past, a piece of history. The铿锵玫瑰 (kēngqiāng méiguī, "铿锵" describes the sound of metal striking; "玫瑰" means "rose" - refers to the fighting spirit of the Chinese women's national football team, who were once a dominant force) finally couldn't resist the erosion of time and withered in America. All the problems and contradictions were washed up by the great wave of failure.

The bleak future of the National Olympic team and the decline of women's football. The golden autumn, which should have been a harvest season, was full of angry and helpless sadness. Perhaps the only thing that could cheer up the Chinese people was Zhang Jun's continued scoring streak in the Netherlands.

While Yang Pan was still struggling to play in Bologna, Zhang Jun was proving the mistake of the Milan Lab to people with one goal after another. And reality was unconsciously pushing him to the point of being the only hope of Chinese football. Whether it was the Football Association, the media, or ordinary fans, everyone very tacitly converted their disappointment and dissatisfaction with Chinese football tenfold into expectations for Zhang Jun.

Zhang Jun's ankle, which had been cursed by the Milan Lab, was actually bearing the ardent expectations of hundreds of millions of people. This was probably something that even the person involved had never imagined.