Chapter Seventy-One: The Chaotic Match

When the lineup for the Yun Jia Tianyu 89 youth squad was announced, the coach of the Meixian Football School was utterly astonished.

Like his five most prized players—Chen Jian, Zhou Wenlong, Mu Shuo, Lin Jianwei, and Fan Xuyang—he held this match in the highest regard. To catch Yun Jia off guard, he had even concealed his team's real strength in the second round, settling for a draw with Tianjin. The coach’s motivation, however, differed from his pupils’. Chen Jian and the others wanted to prove to the world that, although Guangdong football had declined and Meixian had long ceased to produce noteworthy results, as long as its foundation remained, Meixian football would not fade into perpetual obscurity.

Few realize that Meixian’s football roots rival those of the nation’s most fervent football cities, such as Dalian and Yun Jia. In terms of heritage, Yun Jia cannot compare. Meixian’s growing obscurity stems solely from financial constraints—or, more precisely, from the absence of a wealthy and passionate benefactor like Yun Jia Tianyu’s owner, Pei Wei.

The glory of the past is gradually vanishing. The illustrious feats of Li Huitang and others are now merely topics for elderly Meixian residents to reminisce about over tea. The children of Meixian struggle for survival, relying on their football skills as a shortcut to university admission.

Chen Jian and his teammates did not think quite so far ahead, but they believed that if they could defeat recognized powerhouses like Yun Jia, Dalian, Liaoning, Shandong, and Shanghai in this Football Association tournament, Meixian would once again attract nationwide attention. Such a turning point might draw wealthy investors to Meixian Football School and vastly increase their chances of becoming professional players.

How many years has it been since Meixian produced a professional footballer? The answer is elusive, yet every year, many children from Guangdong, Shenzhen, or even Hong Kong, inspired by Meixian’s former glory, come to play football here.

Of the five, only Chen Jian and Mu Shuo are locals. Zhou Wenlong hails from Guangzhou, Lin Jianwei from Dongguan, and the dark-skinned Fan Xuyang is a mixed-race American-born in Hong Kong.

The coach, meanwhile, hoped to showcase his abilities to Yun Jia Tianyu, which offers the best compensation for youth coaches in the country. Unlike his young players, he cared more for his future livelihood than Meixian’s revival.

Meixian’s poor economy meant his salary, as an ordinary youth coach, barely supported his family. If he could attract Yun Jia Tianyu’s attention and secure a generous contract, his family's hardships would ease considerably—at least he would not have to worry so much about his daughter’s university expenses.

Chen Jian and his teammates dreamed of their own aspirations, while the coach’s thoughts remained firmly grounded in reality.

Nevertheless, before this match, everyone at Meixian Football School was united, making the most careful preparations to defeat Yun Jia Tianyu. Their collective shock at Yun Jia’s lineup was thus all the greater.

Youth matches like this are not as formal as professional games; there’s no requirement to submit rosters two hours in advance. Coaches simply assemble their teams at the pitchside and send them out. In a recent match, a careless coach sent twelve players onto the field; neither the referee nor the opponents noticed, and it was only after ten minutes that spectators pointed out the error, causing much amusement.

Notably, the standout Number Ten from previous matches did not appear; a stranger replaced him. One of the two strikers was swapped for a towering player nearly 1.8 meters tall—could this be a twelve-year-old? Ridiculous!

The Meixian coach had prepared extensively for this match. In the earlier rounds, they switched from their favored 4-5-1 formation to a 4-4-2, hoping to mislead Yun Jia’s coach. Chen Jian, as captain and defensive midfielder, was more organizer than defender. To counter Yun Jia’s talented Number Ten, Meixian reverted to 4-5-1, pairing Chen Jian with a robust defensive midfielder, since Yun Jia’s earlier attacks had prioritized the center. But Yun Jia’s sudden change in formation ruined all his plans.

Had Yun Jia already realized Meixian had hidden their strength in the previous rounds? Were the two new players secret weapons? Was Yun Jia’s bench so deep that they could let their mainstays sit out?

The poor coach fretted on the sideline—he could not afford to lose. He needed this victory to secure his future and his daughter’s security in university.

Fortunately, he soon realized that even if Yun Jia’s two new players were secret weapons, they were more like Hanamichi Sakuragi—secret weapons in name only.

The tall striker’s performance was mediocre. Yun Jia’s wings broke through and crossed frequently, but while he often won the header, he posed little threat to the goal. Sometimes, his headers were easily cleared by Meixian’s defenders; other times, the remaining striker was quickly encircled by Meixian’s back line.

Worse still, in Yun Jia’s counterattacks, the tall striker was the first to take the ball, but he couldn’t hold it. Often, he was dispossessed by nimbler defenders, or his passes ended up at the feet of opponents—hardly the hallmark of a top youth squad player.

Meixian’s midfield and attacking line excelled. With protection and no pressure from Yun Jia’s Number Ten, Chen Jian thrived, displaying his delicate technique and superb organization. With his orchestration, Zhou Wenlong, originally an attacking midfielder, pushed further forward, threatening Wu Bufan’s goal under Lin Jianwei’s cover. The flanks—Mu Shuo and Fan Xuyang—engaged Yun Jia’s wingers, preventing them from helping the center.

Although not long after kickoff, Zhou Wei sent in a fine ball from the wing, and as Meixian’s defenders focused on Long Bisheng, Zhang Yi opened the scoring from the edge of the box, Meixian soon took control. Thirty minutes in, Zhou Wenlong received a pass from Chen Jian, surged past Wu Bufan, and equalized into an empty net.

As the match continued, Meixian’s superiority became more pronounced. Individually, they were not on par with Yun Jia Tianyu and lagged in several positions, but their clear core and tactical focus lent coherence to their attacks. Yun Jia’s defense remained solid, but their offense was disorganized; with Dai Guangming absent and Hu Gandang merely distributing to the wings, although Zhou Wei and Zhang Yi’s breaks down the flanks were impressive, they could not threaten Meixian’s goal.

Were it not for the sterling performance of Wu Bufan and Li Jie in defense, and the tireless efforts of defensive midfielders Dan Xiaowu and Hu Gandang, Yun Jia’s goal might have been peppered with shots.

During halftime, Ding Yu stared silently at Long Bisheng, who hung his head, knowing he had played poorly.

After a full minute, Ding Yu finally managed a bitter smile. “Long Bisheng, do you even know what your task is for today’s match?”

“To stay up front, create chances for others, fight for the first ball, and draw the defense,” Long Bisheng replied after some thought—exactly what Ding Yu usually demanded in training.

“Did you even listen to the tactical instructions?” Ding Yu’s tone grew stern. “Didn’t I make it clear the other night? Did none of it sink in? What have you been doing? Did you bring your brain?”

“I... When I heard I was supposed to be the core, my mind just went blank... I honestly didn’t hear it...” Long Bisheng’s voice grew softer, his head lower.

“…Forget it. Right now, the important thing is the match.” Ding Yu sighed. “Let me say it again. Today, you are the core. Every first ball will come to you. In set attacks, you fight for headers—whether you shoot or lay it off is your choice. On counterattacks, the ball will come to your feet first, and you must distribute it to the flanks or teammates running up behind... In this match, you’re not just a tactical center forward—you must be the spearhead of our entire attack. Do you understand?”

Long Bisheng looked at Ding Yu in surprise; he hadn’t expected to be entrusted with such responsibility. But seeing Ding Yu’s serious expression, he quickly nodded. “I understand... I’ll do my best.”

Ding Yu nodded, then addressed the others. “Our tactics remain the same for the second half. This is just an ordinary match. All you need to do is play to your usual level. I believe, as long as we perform normally, there isn’t a single team in the country that can easily beat us... Do you understand?”

“Yes!” the players replied in unison.