Chapter 1 When Disappointment and Pain-Filled Englishmen Still Roamed the Streets of South Africa All Night

Far away in China, the celebrations lasted almost until dawn, with nearly all domestic media providing live coverage of celebrations across the country. Only at times like these could you truly feel that football was still the number one sport, and that China had such a vast population.

It wasn't just the domestic media; there were many foreign media outlets among the celebrating crowds. The next day, scenes of Chinese fans' jubilant celebrations were broadcast worldwide. Foreign media commented, "...This is the first time they've been so crazy about football. The progress of Chinese football has allowed them to taste long-lost joy. Chinese fans are now the happiest in the world, and with each step forward the Chinese team takes, this happiness grows..."

While the celebrations within China were a carnival, within the Chinese national team in South Africa, the celebrations for reaching the semi-finals didn't last long, as the semi-final was fast approaching. They didn't yet know their semi-final opponent; the match between France and Argentina hadn't been played yet.

A match was played concurrently with China's in the upper bracket, and Brazil unsurprisingly defeated Germany. Kaka scored again, bringing his total to three goals in this World Cup, fewer only than Adriano with five goals and Robinho with four, ranking him as Brazil's third-highest scorer.

The media could clearly sense that as Brazil progressed through the knockout stage, Kaka's form was getting better and better. He was very active in the game, not only scoring goals himself but also frequently assisting teammates. He even overshadowed former World Player of the Year Ronaldinho.

※※※

Following Qiu Suhui's usual practice, the Chinese team was to rest the day after a match, so most players chose to sleep in. Zhang Jun was no exception; he was exhausted from constant matches and training these past few days. Yang Pan, on the other hand, enthusiastically got up early in the morning to take a walk, then returned to his room to read, quietly waiting for Zhang Jun to wake up so they could have breakfast together.

Zhang Jun was awakened by his phone ringing.

"Hello..." He picked up the phone from beside his pillow, his voice clearly still sleepy.

"Zhang Jun, Rong Lao has passed away..." Sophie's voice was low and hoarse.

"Ah..." Zhang Jun was stunned for a moment, still half asleep. But he quickly reacted, "You mean Rong...Rong Yunsheng, the senior in sports photography you always told me about?" Sophie had mentioned this person to Zhang Jun more than once or twice, so Zhang Jun naturally remembered him clearly.

"Yes."

"Passed away? Where did he go?" Zhang Jun was still not fully awake.

"He died...during your match against England yesterday..." Sophie's voice gradually lowered.

Zhang Jun suddenly sat up in bed, startling Yang Pan beside him, who closed his book and looked at Zhang Jun.

"Rong Lao had heart surgery four years ago, but he still needed to take medicine regularly to maintain his health. During yesterday's match, we don't know why he didn't take his medicine. We found the bottle of medicine not far from him..." Sophie could still remember the scene yesterday. In the joyful atmosphere of the stadium, a group of them stood motionless in front of Rong Lao, finding his body already cold, without a trace of life.

Many reporters, due to their work, turned to shoot the celebratory scenes after calling for an ambulance, while Sophie and two other colleagues sent Rong Lao to the ambulance and then to the local hospital.

Since Rong Yunsheng was a freelancer and not affiliated with any media outlet, Sophie eventually called his family back in China and was responsible for arranging the funeral until his family arrived.

This was also why Sophie's voice was hoarse and low; she hadn't slept all night. After things calmed down at the stadium, the photojournalists gradually came to the hospital, accompanying Sophie in guarding Rong Lao. Some people advised her to go back to rest, but Sophie refused. Rong Lao lay quietly in the morgue, while Sophie sat in the corridor outside, holding his camera. Once Rong Lao's family arrived, the camera would be returned to them. An press pass, an old camera, a bottle of medicine. These were all of Rong Yunsheng's belongings.

"Zhang Jun, I'm calling you not just to tell you this, I have a request."

"What is it? Tell me."

"I hope the Chinese team players can wear black armbands during the semi-final. Rong Lao was a die-hard fan. During the halftime break yesterday, he bowed to me, asking me to thank you on his behalf, saying that you made him feel joy and hope. In fact, he really wanted to see your semi-final, and then watch you reach the final... I think he must have been very regretful and reluctant in the end... He dedicated his life to Chinese football, to Chinese sports, taking so many photos. I hope we can do something for him..."

"Okay, I'll talk to Qiu zhi (coach Qiu) about it right away. You should also rest well, don't be too tired... Take care of yourself, Sophie." Rong Yunsheng was someone Sophie greatly respected, and many of his photographic works were collected by Sophie, so Zhang Jun could fully understand Sophie's feelings after his death. A very respected senior passed away before her eyes, the feeling... He thought of his own father.

Zhang Jun hung up the phone and jumped out of bed, then quickly put on his clothes. "Yang Pan, come with me to Qiu zhi's room, I'll tell you the details on the way," Zhang Jun said to Yang Pan.

"Not even washing your face or brushing your teeth?" Yang Pan stood up.

"Who cares about that now?"

※※※

Twenty minutes later, the two found Qiu zhi and Hu Li in the hotel lobby. Looking at Zhang Jun with messy hair and sleep still in the corners of his eyes, Qiu Suhui smiled, "What's wrong? Zhang Jun, sleepwalking?"

"Qiu zhi, no jokes, I need your help with something..."

Ten minutes later, Hu Li remained silent, and Qiu Suhui sighed, "I know the Rong Lao you're talking about. Although I wouldn't say we were close, I did meet him a few times. Not only will we wear black armbands, but I also plan to apply to the organizing committee to see if we can have a minute of silence before the game. I'll take care of this today. Also, you need to tell Sophie to take care of her health. These days haven't been easy for us, Zhang Jun."

Zhang Jun nodded, "I will."

As Qiu Suhui and Hu Li went to find the relevant person in charge, Zhang Jun also got up to walk outside. Yang Pan grabbed him, "Are you going to the hospital?"

"Yes," Zhang Jun nodded, "To accompany Sophie."

Yang Pan glanced at the door outside, "Go through the side door, and ask the hotel for a car. I'll distract them." At the door he was looking at, many reporters were lurking, craning their necks to look inside. It seemed that it would be almost impossible for Zhang Jun to go out through the main entrance.

Zhang Jun also looked and then smiled and patted Yang Pan on the shoulder, "Thank you. I'll go find a car."

"What's there to thank? I'm always being suppressed by you, it's time for me to show my face, haha!" Yang Pan waved his hand casually and then walked straight towards the crowd of reporters outside the door.

Zhang Jun watched him quickly disappear into the crowd of crazed reporters and then turned to walk towards the hotel taxi stand.

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Sophie was sitting alone on a bench in the hospital corridor. She really wanted to lie down, but because she was one of the three people who sent Rong Lao to the hospital, the other two had gone to get breakfast, and were bringing some back for her. She was afraid that if she fell asleep, the doctor would look for her. Or that she would lose the camera in her arms... Thinking of this, she hugged the camera in her arms even tighter.

The Chinese team has entered the semi-finals, they eliminated the powerful veteran team England, this should have been a very worthy of cheering and happy thing, why don't I have half a point of joy? This is not the first time I have said goodbye, why is my heart still so unsettled?

Forty-five minutes ago, he was still smiling and saying, "I've captured that goal, it will definitely be one of the most satisfying works of my life. You have a good husband, and we fans have a good player, no, a group of good players!"

Forty-five minutes later, when I saw him again, he had already become cold. At this time of universal jubilation and national celebration, Sophie felt even more sadness.

Why? Is it because everyone has overlooked your existence? The person who once used his own hands to photograph a chronicle of Chinese sports, is now no one remembers him. Look at this deserted corridor... Those reporters are now working overtime to lay out the pages for China's entry into the semi-finals, right? Only myself, a freelancer, has the time to be here with you...

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When Zhang Jun saw Sophie in the sunny corridor, she had already fallen asleep leaning on the bench. The winter sun shone diagonally from the window, spilling onto Sophie's tilted body, and the old-fashioned camera in her arms.

Zhang Jun slowed down his pace and walked to Sophie's side, taking off his coat and putting it over Sophie's body. He had originally planned to just stand there and quietly admire Sophie's sleeping posture, but Sophie, who was very sensitive, suddenly woke up.

Her first reaction was that the doctor was calling her, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Zhang Jun in front of her.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"I don't know, I saw you asleep when I came, less than a minute ago."

Sophie casually grabbed at her hair, using it as a comb, "I hope I didn't delay anything."

"Are you alone?" Zhang Jun looked at the corridor, it was empty, perhaps because it was morning, so it seemed that there were not many people.

"No, there are two other colleagues, they went to get breakfast."

"Oh."

The two were speechless for a moment, just sitting there. Zhang Jun looked up at the blue sky outside the window, while Sophie's eyes looked at the end of the corridor, if a doctor was coming, he would definitely come out from there. Some of the aftermath arrangements for Rong Lao's funeral had not yet been resolved.

Sophie's head slowly drooped down, and then suddenly stopped, she raised her head again, as if nothing had happened.

"Rest if you're tired." Seeing Sophie like this, Zhang Jun also felt very sorry for her. But their tacit understanding made him rarely force Sophie to do something.

"But..." Zhang Jun knew what Sophie was going to say, he covered her mouth, "I'm here, you sleep. When your colleagues come, I'll hand over the work to them, two big men, how can we let a girl be so tired?"

When Sophie heard Zhang Jun say this, she smiled slightly, as if relieved, she tilted her head and fell into Zhang Jun's arms, gradually closing her eyes.

Looking at the haggard Sophie in his arms, Zhang Jun felt uneasy in his heart. This summer, he must make up for Sophie, who had given so much for him.

※※※

Yang Pan simply held a small press conference in the outdoor square outside the hotel. Reporters were free to ask questions, and he had the right to choose whether to answer or not.

Qiu Suhui and Hu Li were still working on Rong Yunsheng's affairs, trying to persuade two teams to observe a moment of silence for an unknown football photographer was not an easy task.

In the hospital corridor, Sophie was leaning in Zhang Jun's arms, already fast asleep.

Domestically, various extra editions of newspapers about the Chinese team entering the semi-finals had already been published, and every household hung red lanterns and national flags, decorating the entire China as lively as the Spring Festival. People were talking about the World Cup no matter what they were doing, on buses, in offices, in schools... Everyone's face was filled with a proud smile.

In those large reports about China entering the semi-finals, news of Rong Yunsheng's death only occupied a small space. It wasn't until the next day, when the celebratory wave wasn't as intense as the first day, that a newspaper used two full pages to report on Rong Yunsheng's death and his life story. Then more and more media began to pay attention to this old senior in Chinese sports photography.

At that time, the entire Chinese team was training hard on the training ground, preparing to face their semi-final opponent - Argentina.

Sophie rested for a day and threw herself back into work with a different mood. "...A sports photographer is not only using their camera to record the game, but should also feel the things inside the game with their heart, integrate their soul into it, to take the best works. The photos taken are not cold, lifeless planes, but a vivid... recording. I think this is what Rong Lao used his life to tell me," she wrote in her column.

※※※

"Winter in South Africa is actually very warm," Li Yongle said on the training ground, feeling a little hot even wearing a long-sleeved jersey.

"That's just because you just did a lot of exercise, I think winter is cold no matter where you are..." An Ke said, shrinking his neck. In the team training match, he, as a goalkeeper, was indeed a little cold because he did less exercise.

"Simple, you go run 10,000 meters and you won't be cold, I guarantee it with my personality," Xiang Tao said from the side.

An Ke glared at him, "Your personality is worthless."

Qiu Suhui looked at the players resting next to the training ground, then handed the tactical board in his hand to Hu Li, and walked towards them himself.

"I believe everyone knows about Rong Lao's affair. Our application has been approved, and there will be a minute of silence before tomorrow's game against Argentina."

Hearing Qiu zhi say this, everyone stopped joking and became silent.

But that wasn't the effect Qiu Suhui wanted. "Our opponent is Argentina, even stronger than England. Are you afraid?"

"Qiu zhi, are you kidding? Who have we been afraid of?" An Ke snorted, "Italy, England, haven't I all stepped on them?"

Qiu Suhui smiled and nodded, "Well, I'm just confirming. The domestic media is all saying that we have created history, and that every step we take now is creating new history. No matter what achievements they ultimately achieve, I think they should all be very happy," Qiu Suhui pointed to the fans watching outside the training ground in the distance. "But my requirements are not only this. Are you satisfied with the current results?"

"Of course not," everyone replied in unison.

"Very good. Since we have already entered the semi-finals, why not go a step further and reach the final? If we really enter the final, why not go a step further and win the championship?" This was the first time Qiu Suhui, as the coach of the Chinese national team, publicly said that he wanted to win the championship. "Foreign media think that our ability to enter the top four is a miracle, like South Korea eight years ago. Why don't we create an even bigger miracle? You know, we are different from South Korea."

"Qiu zhi, are you testing us? We all still remember what Zhang Jun said at the airport. We're here for the championship!" Xiang Tao shouted, and the other players echoed.

Qiu Suhui smiled. "Continue training!" Then he turned and walked back to Hu Li, took the tactical board, wrote on it: Defensive Counterattack. Then he handed it to Hu Li, "Tomorrow's game tactics."

Hu Li looked at it and did not express any objections. The strength of Argentina's attack is well known, and at the same time, the problems with their defense are also well known. After a batch of veterans left, Argentina has produced many talents in the front and middle fields, but few talents have emerged in the defense. If the Chinese team confronts Argentina head-on, it is estimated that there will be no good results, but with defensive counterattacks, everything is possible.

"Winter in South Africa is not cold at all..." Looking at the energetic Chinese players on the field, Li Yan said with emotion outside the field.

Sophie aimed the camera at the players on the field, and then zoomed out, adding a wide-angle lens. Now, the green training ground, the blue sky, the bright warm sun, and the players shining in the brilliant sunlight. She felt that this was not a photograph, but a watercolor painting.

Yang Pan crossed the ball, Zhang Jun jumped high in the middle, overpowering Liu Peng, with a powerful header, the football went into the net...