Chapter Seventy-Six: Conflict

Being the lowest-ranked among the five teams sent out by Yun Jia Tian Yu left the 1989 youth squad children dispirited for some time. Although it didn’t affect their performance during training, a sluggishness weighed on them.

Their mood was especially low on the first day after they returned to school. When Ning Xi, the only girl in the class, asked about the results of the match, nearly forty students blushed and clamped their mouths shut, not willing to utter a word. At the sight of such expressions, Ning Xi immediately knew the outcome hadn’t been good—otherwise, with how eager these boys usually were, they’d have been boasting about it to the skies. Of course, Miss Ning had her own methods. After the first academic class ended, she asked Long Bisheng directly—she knew he was honest and wouldn’t lie.

“We didn’t play well,” Long Bisheng replied sincerely. “We lost in the semifinals and took third place.”

“Third place.” Ning Xi was a little disappointed. Though this result wasn’t bad by any means, for Yun Jia Tian Yu, who was said to have the best youth training in the country, making the finals was just doing the minimum.

“How did you do? Did you get to play? Did you score?” Ning Xi asked her deskmate with concern.

Long Bisheng fell silent, lowering his head even further.

Seeing this, Ning Xi realized he probably hadn’t performed well. She was about to comfort him when a classmate in front turned around with a cold snort. “Him? It’s because of him that we lost the semifinal!”

Long Bisheng hunched even lower. In fact, this classmate spoke for several others—especially those who hadn’t made the match roster. Some had already been dissatisfied that Long Bisheng, whose skills in training seemed lower than theirs, was selected. His poor performance in the semifinal only gave them an outlet for their frustration.

“What are you saying? Can one person lose the whole game?” Ning Xi’s brows arched in anger. After a month as Long Bisheng’s desk partner, she knew he was an honest soul—seeing such a person bullied always roused her sense of justice, which was not lacking.

The classmate was momentarily at a loss but soon argued back, “Ask him! The coach made him the starter, made him the core, but our offense was a complete mess. Shanghai scored two goals against us, and once he was subbed off in the second half, we took control. If we hadn’t given up two goals in the first half, we’d definitely have won!”

Ning Xi couldn’t find words to reply. She hadn’t seen the match, and Long Bisheng’s downcast demeanor lent some credibility to the accusation. Still, she wasn’t the only one at a loss; immediately, Zhou Wei jumped to Long Bisheng’s defense. “What’s the point? Is this ever going to end? Everyone feels bad about losing, but how is it all Long’s fault?”

“How is it not? If the coach hadn’t made him the core, our first-half offense wouldn’t have been so toothless!”

“You admit it was the coach’s decision, right? If it was a mistake, that’s the coach’s responsibility, not Long’s,” Dai Guangming declared righteously. “Didn’t you see how hard Long worked on the pitch? He only played half the match, but his jersey was dirtier than anyone’s! He gave his all—how can you criticize someone who tried that hard?”

“What’s this? Are you guys from Dorm 101 ganging up on us?” In a football school like this, everyone had their own clique. As soon as Zhou Wei and Dai Guangming stood up, several of their friend’s allies did as well.

“Let’s talk it out, everyone,” Hu Gandang said, stepping between the two groups. “We’re here to play football, not fight. If we’re going to talk, let’s talk it through… A loud voice doesn’t make you right, and fists don’t prove your strength. Don’t worry, Dorm 101 won’t bully anyone, but if anyone wants to settle things with their fists, we’re not afraid either.”

As soon as Hu finished, Li Jie, standing behind him, demonstratively cracked his knuckles, while the big guy Wu Bufan grinned good-naturedly—yet no one dared ignore his presence.

Only then did everyone realize that Dorm 101 wasn’t just the strongest in football, but apparently wouldn’t back down from a fight either—Long Bisheng, Wu Bufan, Hu Gandang, and Li Jie, four muscular young men, were intimidating enough just standing together.

“We’re all classmates. There’s no need to make this so tense,” Dai Guangming said lightly. “We all share responsibility for that loss. Long didn’t play well, but what player is perfect every match? You all saw how he performed in the third group match—Chen Yongjun, can you say the coach was wrong to put him on the roster?”

Chen Yongjun, the first to criticize, bit his lip and fell silent.

“Long, lift up your shirt and show them your ribs,” Hu Gandang said coldly. “Long isn’t just the hardest worker in training, he’s the most determined in matches! We barely managed a decent cross that game, but he was always fighting for position against Shanghai’s defenders! On one corner, when he jumped, an opponent elbowed him right in the ribs! It was vicious—Long told me yesterday he nearly blacked out! But he got up without a word and kept playing! Even now, his ribs are bruised. If anyone ever loses us a match for lack of effort, I’ll be the first to call them out! But who can say Long didn’t give his all? You? You?”

Long Bisheng pointed at each of them in turn, and those he pointed at all avoided his gaze. Quietly, Ning Xi lifted Long Bisheng’s shirt, revealing a shocking bruise for all to see.

“Enough,” Long Bisheng said, raising his head, his eyes reddened. “I really didn’t play well in that match—apart from heading and physical play, I was useless… In future training, I’ll work even harder, especially on my footwork and passing. I’ll do my best never to hold everyone back again. If the coach gives me another chance, I’ll prove myself. I’m sorry, everyone.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Zhou Wei shouted. “You didn’t do anything wrong! Playing badly is a matter of ability, not attitude! We’re still young—there’s plenty of time to improve. It’s not like we lost the World Cup final. Is an apology really necessary? And even if we did lose the World Cup final, what then? Life goes on—nobody’s going to shoot you! This is China, not Colombia!”

“Let’s all say less,” Liu Lin stepped in, his face wreathed in smiles. Well-liked by all, his appearance immediately eased the tense atmosphere. “Losing isn’t one person’s fault. What’s the point of fighting about it here? Let’s break it up before a teacher sees us. We all know how strict the school’s rules are—none of us wants to get expelled, right?”

That final point did the trick. Getting into Yun Jia Tian Yu Football School was a rare opportunity, and being expelled meant little chance of re-entry. The crowd gradually dispersed, and what might have been a serious conflict faded away.

But as peace returned, Chen Yongjun just had to mutter, “Fine, let’s leave it for today… Don’t think I’m afraid of you. Long Bisheng, just be glad this isn’t Colombia.”

At those words, a furious shout rang out in the classroom.

“Shut your damn mouth!” It wasn’t Hu Gandang or Li Jie who exploded, but the usually refined Dai Guangming. He grabbed the textbook from his desk and hurled it at Chen Yongjun. “Had enough yet? Picking on honest people—is that all you’ve got? Come at me if you’re so tough!”

“You dare hit me?” The book struck Chen Yongjun’s forehead, and he clutched it, yelling. Several of his close friends rushed over, and soon they were pushing and shoving with Li Jie, Wu Bufan, and Hu Gandang.

The classroom descended into chaos, the conflict escalating quickly as the two sides began to scuffle. If the neutral students hadn’t intervened to separate them, the commotion would have alerted people outside.

“Stop! The teacher’s coming!” someone on lookout shouted, and the two groups immediately returned to their seats. In the end, it was the teacher’s authority that broke up the brawl.

Chen Yongjun, his forehead swollen and red, glared hatefully at Long Bisheng and his group, spitting out, “This isn’t over!”

“Fine, we’ll be waiting—settle it however you want!” Zhou Wei shot back. “Right now, you’d better think about how to explain that bruise on your forehead to the teacher!”

At that moment, the teacher entered, surprised. “The classroom’s unusually quiet today.”

Laughter bubbled up from Zhou Wei’s side, while Chen Yongjun, hand covering his injury, cast another resentful look at Long Bisheng and his friends.