Chapter 27 Eight Strong!

When Klose scored a goal against Sweden, including injury time, there were less than twenty minutes left for the Swedish team. Scoring a goal within these twenty minutes was not impossible for the Swedish team, led by Zlatan Ibrahimović, but for some reason, many people suddenly lost confidence in the Swedish team and felt they had already lost.

Why was this? No one could say for sure, and even the commentators themselves didn't sound very enthusiastic when talking about the Swedish team. Ibrahimović was a very likable forward because of his outstanding technique, which made the audience gasp and scream along with his movements.

Many people didn't want to see such a team being eliminated.

After taking the lead by one goal, Qiu Suhui frequently directed from the sidelines, changing tactics and players. The Chinese team chose a tactic of controlling the ball on the field, firmly grasping the rhythm of the game in their own hands, which was much more effective than passively defending.

The Swedish team replaced Baumsson with a forward. Baumsson's performance against Klose in this game was a complete failure. As the number one defensive midfielder in Sweden, he was completely helpless against Klose.

Being substituted, he glared fiercely at Klose's back on the sidelines, vowing that even if he failed this time, he would definitely get revenge one day.

As for Klose, he had faced countless players in one-on-one situations and had tricked countless others. If he remembered everyone and guarded against them seeking revenge, he would probably be exhausted long ago. So he forgot about these people in the blink of an eye and didn't take them to heart at all. "Baumsson? Who's that?" If you asked him the next day, he would definitely answer you like that.

※※※

The Swedish team went all out, pressing forward across the board, trying to equalize the score. Even though Zhang Jun almost succeeded in a counterattack, they had no intention of retreating.

Sweden had no choice; if they didn't fight, they would really be eliminated. But facing a Chinese team with a ball possession rate as high as 56%, their struggle seemed very weak. Qiu Suhui's decision to have the team control the ball as much as possible was correct. Without the ball, the Swedish team couldn't exert their strength, and their impatience caused them to waste a lot of time due to unnecessary fouls.

As the game time passed, Chinese fans danced and cheered in the stands and in front of their TVs, preparing to celebrate their team's first-ever entry into the World Cup quarter-finals.

The Swedes became increasingly frustrated, and many Swedish fans were already sitting in the stands in pain, covering their faces with their hands, unwilling to watch the game any longer.

Ibrahimović did his best to help the team at least equalize the score, but Xiang Tao stopped him once again. Just as he was about to swing his foot to shoot, he threw himself forward, blocking the ball with his body. The ball hit his chest hard and then bounced out of bounds.

Watching the ball being kicked out of bounds, Ibrahimović really wanted to tear his clothes and roar. He was unwilling!

In the eighty-eighth minute of the game, the score was still 2-1, with the Chinese team leading. The fourth official raised the board for injury time: three minutes of added time!

This was truly a pitiful amount of extra time. What could you do in three minutes? Swedish fans cursed the fourth official and the referee in dissatisfaction.

In the last minute of injury time, Ljungberg's shot hit his own teammate Linderoth and bounced out of the baseline. Just as Ljungberg ran towards the corner flag, intending to take a corner kick, he heard the referee's crisp and ruthless whistle!

"We're in! We've advanced!!!" Wang Jianxiang, the on-site commentator, couldn't wait to cheer when he heard the first whistle. Along with him were hundreds of millions of Chinese fans.

"Quarter-finals, here we come! The Chinese team is here!"

The other Chinese players and coaches, who had been waiting on the sidelines, also rushed onto the field with open arms at the sound of the whistle, hugging their teammates.

This was a historic moment for Chinese football. They had entered the World Cup quarter-finals for the first time! Four years ago, they lost 1-2 to Italy and stopped in the round of sixteen. Four years later, they squeezed out their old rivals Italy in the group stage and now eliminated the Swedish team with the same score, entering the quarter-finals. This was the pride of the Chinese people, and fans who liked the Chinese team could continue to watch their performance in the World Cup.

Klose's fancy skills, Zhang Jun's passionate goals, all of these would continue to be performed in the World Cup.

The Chinese players hugged each other in a group. Although they all thought before the game that defeating the Swedish team wouldn't be too difficult, when happiness really came, everyone couldn't control their emotions, and several emotional people burst into tears on the field.

Quarter-finals, they had accomplished something that all their predecessors had failed to do.

Zhang Jun didn't cry because his goal wasn't the quarter-finals; he had higher pursuits. If he got excited now, what would he do when even greater happiness came later? Bang his head against the wall?

Reporters, teammates, referees… Zhang Jun searched for Svensson in the noisy environment. Originally, Zhang Jun thought Svensson would be difficult to find. Why? Because his height was simply not noticeable in the Swedish team.

But Zhang Jun only scanned the crowd a few times before he saw his target.

Most of the Swedish players were lying on the ground at this time, or drooping their heads and curling up their bodies. Only this Svensson stood upright, not crying, not frustrated. In his eyes, there was clearly unyielding spirit, which reminded Zhang Jun of himself in the past.

Logically speaking, he was the most successful player in the league in the team and should be the least able to withstand setbacks, but unexpectedly, beneath his silent exterior was a strong heart.

Sabato's vision was indeed correct; this young man would be the future of Fiorentina's defense. As Zhang Jun thought this, he pushed through the crowd and walked up to Svensson.

"Come on, you should know what to do now." Zhang Jun took his jersey in his hand and held it out to Svensson.

Svensson was stunned for a moment, and then he understood. He began to fumble with his jersey.

Seeing the comical way he struggled to get the jersey over his head, Zhang Jun couldn't help but laugh, but he quickly stopped himself because he knew that no matter how strong Svensson looked on the outside, he must still be in pain inside.

"Sorry, Andreella." Zhang Jun said to him as he took Svensson's jersey.

"Why are you apologizing to me?" Svensson asked, puzzled.

"It's nothing, hehe. Keep working hard, you did a great job, successfully defending me. Next season, let's pursue more trophies and bonuses together in Florence!" He winked at Svensson.

Zhang Jun hoped to use his joking words to ease Svensson's pain a little, but Svensson didn't smile or respond to this. He just clenched his jersey and nodded silently.

Zhang Jun knew Svensson was taciturn, so he didn't push it. He said goodbye to his Fiorentina teammate and turned to look for another important person.

At this moment, the important person Zhang Jun was looking for was holding a camera and struggling to squeeze through the crowd, capturing every shot she thought was important and unmissable.

Zhang Jun weaved through the crowd and finally saw Sophie squatting on the ground taking pictures. He quietly approached, went behind Sophie, and then knelt down, suddenly hugging her.

Sophie was startled. She thought she was being molested, but when she looked down and saw the red bracelet on the wrist that was hugging her waist, she felt relieved. But soon she wanted to push the hands away: "Let go, Zhang Jun. My photos are going to be blurry!"

Zhang Jun put his mouth to the back of Sophie's ear and murmured, "I won't let go... It's okay if they're blurry."

"Oh, let go, people will see..."

"What are you afraid of? The whole world knows about our relationship, what's there to be shy about? I just want to hold you, hold you like this… I'm so tired…"

Sophie smiled helplessly, then put down her camera and knelt on the ground, letting Zhang Jun hug her, murmuring in her ear, telling her of his longing.

Li Yan said to Cariani beside him: "It's really chaotic here. We have to find Zhang Jun as soon as possible, otherwise, we'll be scooped by other media."

Cariani nodded frequently, expressing his agreement.

"There are too many people, let's split up. Call me when you find him." After Li Yan finished speaking, he walked straight to the left, while Cariani turned to the right.

Li Yan saw Wang Yu crying uncontrollably in Xiang Tao's arms. She was truly an emotional person... They also cried like this four years ago, but that was because they were eliminated. This time, it was tears of joy.

He also saw Yang Pan being interviewed by a group of reporters. This kid spoke eloquently and had the demeanor of a great general.

An Ke and Li Yongle were jumping and cheering together. Li Yongle, who was terrifyingly calm and composed on the field, was acting like a child at this moment. Led by An Ke, he also went crazy. Around him were a group of equally excited Chinese players.

Qiu Suhui originally wanted to celebrate with the people, but he was stopped by many reporters. As the first coach to lead the Chinese team into the World Cup quarter-finals, he was already a celebrity.

Assistant coach Hu Li didn't attract much attention. He was celebrating the victory with the other members of the coaching staff. Li Yan had great respect for this old man.

Klose was stopped by many media outlets, but his face was expressionless, and no one could tell if he was happy or not. Li Yan knew that Klose had this bad temper. Those media outlets that went to interview him were either because they couldn't find anyone else, or they were rookies and idiots. Because in the news media, everyone knew that interviewing Klose was the most difficult thing to do in the Chinese team.

So many stars, and he didn't even have the urge to interview them as he passed by them. He insisted on finding Zhang Jun. But it seemed that there were many people looking for Zhang Jun like him. He often saw two reporters greeting each other: "Have you found Zhang Jun yet?"

"Not yet!"

"Sigh, the stadium is so big, where could he have run off to?"

"Who knows, let's keep looking!"

Listening to the conversation between the two, Li Yan didn't know why Zhang Jun couldn't be found. It wasn't until he saw two people kneeling on the ground in a place that most people had overlooked—next to the Swedish team's coaching bench—that he found them. It was Zhang Jun and Sophie. The two were leaning against each other, and Zhang Jun had his head buried in Sophie's hair.

At this moment, his phone rang. Li Yan answered it. It was Cariani calling: "How is it? Did you find him?"

Li Yan looked at the two people not far away and shook his head, replying: "No, I can't find him..." He almost said, "Them." "Forget it, let's go interview other people. I see everyone is looking for him, but no one has found him. We shouldn't have to worry about others scooping our news."

After speaking, he hung up the phone and turned to leave, not even looking back, for fear of someone noticing his gaze.

In the middle of the noisy stadium, people were busy congratulating the victors and paying tribute to the losers, but they had all forgotten about the two people kneeling on the grass. They were so immersed in their own world that for a moment, no one came to disturb them. The two were like sculptures, completely isolated from this noisy world.

What cheers, what celebrations, what victory and advancement, at this moment, they were all irrelevant to them.

This was truly a beautiful night.

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The next day, Zhang Jun saw a photo of himself hugging Sophie and kneeling on the sidelines in a local newspaper. He didn't know which reporter took it. At the time, neither he nor Sophie had felt any flashes of light. But this photo... Zhang Jun took the newspaper away from him and then squinted his eyes to examine it carefully.

He found that this photo was really well taken, the background, the use of light, and the composition were all just right. He planned to find the author and ask for a copy of the photo to collect. This was a memento of his and Sophie's love, and what was rare was that it was witnessed by outsiders.

Now, his relationship with Sophie had long been made public to the world. When he was interviewed by reporters before the World Cup, he had already introduced the process of the two meeting and falling in love. Now this photo was nothing to be exposed. Zhang Jun and Sophie had become accustomed to how the outside world viewed their love. This was something that they had to experience as public figures.

Zhang Jun's vision was still very good. In a very short period of time, this photo spread all over the world through news media and online media. Many fans who liked Zhang Jun and Sophie used this photo as their avatar or signature picture on the internet, while more people treasured it.

Of course, these were all stories for later. Let's go back to the World Cup.

The Chinese team's World Cup journey was a journey of surprises and joy for Chinese fans. They had just finished celebrating the team's entry into the round of sixteen, and in less than two days, they were celebrating their entry into the quarter-finals.

For more than fifty years, when had Chinese fans enjoyed such treatment? One climax after another, making people happy to the point of wanting to cry.

Hopefully, in the next ten days, fans can continue to be so happy that they want to cry...