Chapter Twenty-Two: The Goalkeeper for Champions League Qualification

Wang Ziqi, who had slumped into his dining chair, didn't start eating immediately. Instead, he asked his mother, who was already having her meal, "Mom, did Tyne win or lose their match late last night?"

Tang Xingmei, scrolling through her phone while eating, didn't even look up. "They lost, 1-2."

"Ah, man..." Wang Ziqi sighed.

Only then did Tang Xingmei look up, feigning surprise. "Why are you disappointed? Didn't you say yesterday that Tyne would definitely lose because they didn't put your dad in the starting lineup?"

Wang Ziqi, both annoyed and anxious, stomped his foot under the table. "That was me just blowing off steam! Can't you tell when I'm just venting?"

His mother couldn't help but chuckle. "So, you know you were just blowing off steam, then?"

Pouting, Wang Ziqi said indignantly, "Ever since that McNeil became Tyne's manager, they hadn't lost a league game. But the moment my dad arrives, they lose. I'm afraid all those haters are going to call my dad a 'jinx'!"

"Let them talk. Can you really shut the mouths of every hater out there? Ignore them. No matter what they say, it won't affect your dad. Now you, hurry up and finish your breakfast. I'll have Sister Deng drive you to school in a bit."

Wang Ziqi couldn't resist asking, "How did they lose?"

In truth, Tang Xingmei hadn't watched the match either. Since it kicked off at 1:30 AM local time and her husband wasn't playing, there was no reason for her to stay up. She hadn't known the result much longer than her son—she had just checked the highlights and news on her phone and found out that Tyne had lost away to Sydenham.

"Vittini assisted Van Ginkel for the opening goal in the first half, putting Tyne up 1-0. Then Sydenham equalized in the fifty-ninth minute and took the lead in the seventy-sixth," Tang Xingmei summarized the highlights for her son.

Wang Ziqi's eyes widened. "They had almost twenty minutes left and still couldn't equalize?!"

His mother gave him a "you know how it is" look.

Wang Ziqi sighed heavily. "They really are 'mercenaries,' aren't they!"

"Alright, hurry up and eat! Did you finish your study check-in? Finals are right around the corner. You're not focused at all, yet you have time to chatter away with me?"

As soon as his mother mentioned his studies, Wang Ziqi immediately behaved, burying his head in his bowl and daring not to banter anymore.

***

As soon as Wang Ziqi ran to the door of Class 2-3, he heard his classmates debating inside:

"Why didn't Wang Lie play? If he had been on the pitch, maybe Tyne wouldn't have lost!"

"What are you thinking! Wang Ge only arrived at Tyne four days ago; how could he possibly play? This is the Premier League, not the Chinese Super League!"

"I think it's good he didn't play. There was no time to adapt or build chemistry. If he had performed poorly, he would have just been criticized again..."

"What’s that supposed to mean? Do you have so little faith in Wang Ge?"

"Exactly! Wang Ge couldn't get playing time at Sofu-Lian, and now he can't get playing time at Tyne. Doesn't that mean his move was for nothing!?"

Wang Ziqi didn't need to look to know that the last sarcastic comment came from Shi Bo, a die-hard fan of Chi Zhen. Last time, it was Shi Bo who called his dad a clown, leading to a shouting match and eventually a brawl between them.

Ever since that incident, his mother had sternly ordered Wang Ziqi not to cause trouble at school, warning him not to be a burden on his father. She told him that his father was already working hard enough in England on his own, and if he truly cared for his father, he should give him less to worry about.

Wang Ziqi certainly didn't want to cause trouble for his father, so he now deliberately avoided participating in discussions about him, hoping to keep his "inner beast" under control. But even if he didn't initiate, he couldn't stop others from dragging him in.

As the class's notorious "Wang Lie superfan," it was hard for Wang Ziqi to keep a low profile. While his classmates didn't know he was Wang Lie's son, they knew he was a superfan, forming a "match made in hell" with Shi Bo, Chi Zhen's superfan. Sometimes, people would even intentionally stoke the fire between them.

Seeing Wang Ziqi run into the classroom, someone called out, "Wang Ziqi! Tyne lost late last night!"

Wang Ziqi waved his hand awkwardly. "I know."

"Tell us, Wang Ziqi, if Wang Ge had played, wouldn't Tyne have won?"

Wang Ziqi could only respond dismissively, "How would I know?"

Shi Bo feigned surprise. "That's a strange reaction, Wang Ziqi. Shouldn't you be saying 'definitely'?"

Wang Ziqi knew what the kid was aiming for and wasn't about to play along. "The match is already over—what's the point of talking about it? Don't you find it boring?"

Shi Bo grinned. "I don't. Everyone's just chatting. Don't you want Wang Lie to play and help the team win?"

Wang Ziqi curled his lip. "What I want has nothing to do with reality. Don't you want Chi Zhen to win the Champions League? You said last season that the Scousers would definitely win the league title—I guess Chi Zhen won it all, then?"

Shi Bo paused, surprised that the ball had been kicked right back at him. Seeing Shi Bo silenced, Wang Ziqi walked past him with his head held high like a victor.

***

"What time is it over there?" Tang Xingmei asked Wang Lie on the screen.

Wang Lie glanced diagonally upward toward the camera. "One-fifty in the afternoon."

"So you're in your room at the training base?" Tang Xingmei asked, surprised.

"Yeah, why?"

"I thought you were at a hotel... Are your dorm rooms really that luxurious?"

"Ha! Tyne's owner is from the Middle East, you know—the 'wear a cloth on your head, richest in the world' type. A lot of money went into this training base. Even the rooms for us first-team players are designed and decorated to five-star hotel standards."

As he spoke, Wang Lie switched to the rear camera to show his wife properly: "I'm in the living room now. Fridge, TV, big sofa, coffee table... it's got everything. Out here is the balcony, and it looks right over our first-team training pitch. Look... though the weather's bad today, overcast and freezing, so I'm not going out."

Wang Lie turned around and pointed the camera the other way: "This is the bathroom—nothing much to see, but it has both a shower and a tub. And this is the bedroom... a two-meter-wide bed, plenty of room to roll around..."

Tang Xingmei looked at the screen, where every bit of decor screamed wealth, and clicked her tongue. "They really don't mind spending money! It's like the money just fell from the sky..."

Wang Lie joked, "Not from the sky, it grew out of the ground, ha!"

His quip made Tang Xingmei laugh.

The two were still laughing when Wang Ziqi suddenly popped into the frame. "Dad, Dad! Can you play in the weekend match?"

Tang Xingmei was startled, then surprised by the sudden question. "The weekend is still days away. Why are you asking now?"

"I'm just asking!"

"What kind of answer do you expect right now? Nothing is certain!" Tang Xingmei answered for her husband.

But Wang Ziqi didn't accept his mother's answer; he stared at his father on the screen, wanting him to answer.

Wang Lie said to his son with a smile, "I will definitely play."

***

"Awesome!" Wang Ziqi cheered at the answer.

"Go to bed! It's past nine already. Do you want to grow taller or not?!" his mother shooed him away.

"Bye, Dad! Good luck, Dad!" Wang Ziqi ran off happily.

After the child left, Tang Xingmei scolded her husband, "You're lying to him; he'll be disappointed when the time comes."

Wang Lie shook his head. "I'm not lying. I will definitely play in the next match."

Tang Xingmei frowned. "Don't rush it. Go at your own pace."

She understood his desire to play; he hadn't completed a full match all season, something that had never happened in all his previous seasons, and it must be difficult. But she also knew this couldn't be rushed. Without competitive matches for so long, even if the manager played him, how much could he really contribute? How could his form be guaranteed?

If he were played just for the sake of playing, it would only hurt him. Wang Lie had such high traffic; everyone was watching him under a magnifying glass. If he didn't score or assist in his debut, the post-match criticism would be overwhelming. They wouldn't care about objective factors—they'd just see that Wang Lie didn't score or assist, and he would be labeled as having "choked." If Tyne happened to lose, it would be even worse: the struggling Wang Lie would be the scapegoat!

And don't say Tang Xingmei was imagining things—things like this had happened more than once or twice before. Yes, Wang Lie had a strong heart and didn't care about such unreasonable criticism. But she and his mother didn't. Especially his mother; she hadn't been sleeping well lately, bearing the immense pressure for her son.

So, Tang Xingmei hoped Wang Lie wouldn't rush, that he would take his time to ensure he was fully prepared. Since Tyne's manager trusted him and was willing to give him a chance, there was no need to worry about a lack of opportunities. She feared that if Wang Lie was too eager to prove himself, he would only achieve the opposite.

Wang Lie understood her concern, but he had his own perspective: "Actually, there's risk and pressure even if I don't play. And... how can I wait until everything is 'perfect'? Never have the mindset of 'let me get ready' or 'let me be better prepared.' I told you about Tyne's situation. If the goal were just to avoid relegation, then sure, I could wait. But my goal is to reach the Champions League, so I can't wait, and neither can the team."

Since the 2033-2034 season, Wang Lie had missed the Champions League for three consecutive seasons. As the competition's all-time top scorer, his tally was frozen at ninety goals, while his rivals were catching up—Arthur had already scored seventy-seven goals in the Champions League, and he was only thirty-three. It was practically a certainty that his record would be broken.

Many believed that since Wang Lie had been completely excluded from the Sofu-Lian squad this season, his tally would remain at ninety, and he would never have the chance to play in the Champions League again to refresh his record. But Tang Xingmei knew that her husband had never once given up on the dream of playing in the Champions League—to outsiders, this sounded absurd, perhaps even delusional.

Yet Tang Xingmei knew that no matter how irrational it seemed, this was exactly the kind of thing her husband could do. Never try to reason with him using common sense—if everything were analyzed by common sense, Wang Lie would never have reached the heights he had in his career.

Since her husband had brought up his Champions League dream, Tang Xingmei found it hard to dissuade him further. She could only cheer him on: "Alright, I'll watch your match then."

Wang Lie smiled. "I promise I won't let you down."

***

Before the afternoon training session, Wang Lie met Vittini, who had played in the match yesterday. Because of the match, Vittini and the other players who had featured didn't train that morning.

Seeing Wang Lie, Vittini looked guilty. "I'm sorry, Wang. I let you down... I couldn't bring back a victory..."

Wang Lie comforted him: "You did your best, Vittini. You don't need to apologize; you aren't the one who should feel sorry."

Vittini wasn't easily consoled. "And I couldn't control my emotions... I tried to do as you said and turn anger into power, but I failed..."

Wang Lie continued to comfort him, appearing remarkably tolerant: "Take it slow. It's a process. No one can change overnight."

Vittini asked again, "Does this mean we're further from the Champions League now..."

Wang Lie shook his head. "Can't say that yet. The round isn't finished."

Tyne was currently thirteenth in the Premier League. The twelve teams ahead of them, from twelfth down to first, were: Leeds, the team that just beat them (Sydenham), Wittonshire, Hellingham FC, Hunslow, Kensington, Brighton White Mountain, Waltham, Sofu-Lian, the Scousers, Clayton Athletic, and first-place Hackney Knights.

Nine matches had been played in this round. Some results didn't matter to Wang Lie's goal because they wouldn't affect Tyne's league position or the gap to the Champions League spots.

In the nine completed matches: Scousers drew 0-0 with Kensington; East London United beat Porter FC 2-0; Bournemouth Athletic drew 1-1 with Sherwood United; Leicester Fortress drew 2-2 with Brighton White Mountain; Southampton Anchor lost 0-1 to Wittonshire; Clayton Athletic won 3-0 at home against Wolverhampton; Leeds and Hunslow drew 0-0; Waltham won 1-0 away at Hellingham FC; and of course, Tyne lost 1-2 away to Sydenham.

Tenth-place Wittonshire's 1-0 away win over bottom-placed Southampton Anchor extended the gap between them and Tyne from four points to seven. The other completed matches were mostly draws, so the gap between Tyne and those teams didn't widen.

The only remaining match was the most critical one: fourth-place Sofu-Lian traveling to take on league leaders Hackney Knights. The fourth position was the divide between the Champions League and the Europa League—fourth place meant Champions League, fifth place meant Europa. Therefore, the result of this match would decide whether the gap between Tyne and the Champions League qualification would widen or remain the same.

***

"Charge! Knights! Charge! Knights!!"

In the stands of Gunner Stadium, Hackney Knights fans were chanting incessantly, creating a wave of sound like a tsunami to cheer on their team. Under their shouts, most of the Hackney Knights players had pressed into the opposing half, while all eleven Sofu-Lian players had retreated into their defensive third.

The match time on the big screen was 89:16. The score was 2-2.

The television close-up cut to the Sofu-Lian bench, where Sven Helden was frowning, biting his lower lip, his expression serious and terrifying.

"...Helden replaced forward Harris with defensive midfielder Liers seven minutes ago; he clearly hopes to hold onto the 2-2 draw away from home. But Sofu-Lian has retracted too deeply, unable to threaten the Hackney Knights' goal at all. They've been pinned back for over five minutes now, with the ball circling constantly in their half... This is dangerous! Can they withstand the Knights' tidal wave of attacks?!"

"Go Knights! Go Hackney!" In front of the TV, Vittini was jumping on the sofa, cheering for the home side. If someone had filmed this and posted it online, it might have sparked rumors that "Vittini is transferring to Hackney Knights"...

In reality, Vittini's support for the Knights had nothing to do with that; he simply wanted Sofu-Lian to lose. Sofu-Lian was currently fourth, the gatekeeper for the final Champions League spot. The Knights were first, leading second-place Clayton Athletic by only two points, so they had to win to maintain their advantage in the title race.

Vittini didn't care about the title race, but whether Sofu-Lian could hold onto that point mattered to him. Since Tyne hadn't won this round, he wanted Sofu-Lian to lose so that the gap between Tyne and fourth place wouldn't widen, leaving hope alive.

On the broadcast, the Knights launched another attack. Their captain and midfield orchestrator, Rohl Pope, sent a long diagonal ball from the right to the left flank. On the touchline, South Korean left winger Kang Dong-hun brought the ball down cleanly. Because the touch was so good, Sofu-Lian's right winger Adel Degert didn't dare to commit, fearing being beaten by the lightning-fast South Korean international. He could only hold his ground inside.

As Kang stopped the ball, Hackney Knights' left-back Tomas Vanek overlapped at high speed, drawing Degert away. The Korean star seized the moment, dribbling horizontally before passing to French forward Enzo Lemonnier, who had dropped deep to receive.

Lemonnier received with his back to goal, holding off Sofu-Lian's substitute holding midfielder Liers with his body, before sliding the ball to Kang Dong-hun, who had peeled away!

"Wall pass! Kang!"

Kang Dong-hun was a left winger for the Knights, but he was a prolific striker for the South Korean national team with excellent finishing ability! Seeing Kang receive the ball, Sofu-Lian midfielder Aaron Schouten immediately stepped up to deny him shooting space. Kang had no choice but to shift the ball to the right flank.

Waiting there was Rohl Pope, who had initiated the move. Pope lifted his leg and flicked the incoming ball toward the center, but it hit the body of Sofu-Lian defender Pablo Castine and deflected toward the ribs of the box. Hackney Knights' right-back Joseph Fitzworth had transformed into a winger at this point; he met the rebounding ball and hammered it!

"Fitzworth!!"

Sofu-Lian goalkeeper Jimmy Doug dove toward the far post by instinct! But before he could reach it, Sofu-Lian captain and center-back Tyler Murphy stuck out a leg to block. The ball hit his instep, took a deflection, and swerved toward the near post!

Doug was already airborne, unable to change his trajectory. He could only watch helplessly as the ball grazed the inside of the near post and skidded into the net!

"Ahhhhh!" Vittini screamed hysterically in front of the TV. His voice completely drowned out the commentator's roar.

"Goal!! A winner! A dramatic winner! The Knights' relentless pressure finally paid off! A shot from Fitzworth caused an own goal by Tyler Murphy!"

"Sofu-Lian couldn't hold on! Helden pays the price for his conservatism! After a crushing defeat to Clayton Athletic last round, they are now beaten away by Hackney Knights! Helden has suffered his first two-game losing streak since taking over Sofu-Lian!"

"Since Wang left the team, everyone thought Sofu-Lian would enter a brand new era. It seems it is a new era indeed, but whether it's a good one or a bad one remains to be seen..."

Amidst the commentators' gasps, the atmosphere at Gunner Stadium reached a fever pitch as the Knights players celebrated wildly. The fans began singing that song, *North London Forever*, the anthem of the North London-based Hackney Knights:

"North London forever!"

"Whatever the weather!"

"These streets are our own!"

"And my heart will leave you never!"

"My blood will forever!"

"Run through the stone!"

Amidst the chorus, the Sofu-Lian players looked drained of all strength, lying on the pitch one by one, covering their faces. Although the referee hadn't blown the final whistle, looking at the Sofu-Lian players' performance, no one believed they had any chance of coming back.

Sofu-Lian lost. The gap between fourth place and Tyne remained unchanged; Tyne was still sixteen points away from a Champions League spot!