Chapter 31: You Are Lacking (Please Add to Favorites)

"Second half, swap everyone out!" Zhao Xiaotang said with a helpless grin.

In the first half, these rascals had hammered seven goals into the opposition! Guo Fan had scored a hat-trick, and Yang Fan had provided a hat-trick of assists. Some of the young players from the Quju Youth team were wiping away tears as they left the pitch. Continuing the onslaught would have been unseemly; it was nothing short of pure humiliation.

"What? Subbing me off? I haven't had enough yet!" Guo Fan protested.

Zhao Xiaotang glared at him. "Save your energy. You'll have plenty of running to do the day after tomorrow!"

Two matches in the group stage were enough to reach the final four. Once they reached that stage, they would inevitably face teams like Hongyun, Guangfa, or Bohai Port—teams whose overall strength would be several times greater, making for truly evenly matched contests.

Wei Lai didn't care much; he found the match rather dull. The pace was slow, and the physical intensity was lacking. The opposing number 10 was mediocre at dribbling, poor at shielding the ball, lacked physical presence, and hadn't even attempted a single shot. Wei Lai was puzzled—why didn't he pass? He insisted on clinging to the ball, practically begging to be tackled. What a stubborn blockhead!

"Got it now?" Guo Fan nudged Wei Lai with his shoulder and laughed. "I told you that you’d tear them apart!"

And tear them apart he did. The opposing team's reliance, their number 10, had been reduced to a state of mental paralysis by Wei Lai's marking. Guo Fan knew that feeling all too well. Once Wei Lai set his sights on you, he became an omnipresent threat, a source of constant tension. After being dispossessed by Wei Lai once or twice, your mindset would simply shatter. Even if Wei Lai just stood nearby doing nothing, his mere presence exerted immense psychological pressure.

Guo Fan glanced over and saw Li Ang, who had been full of arrogance earlier, now hanging his head in defeat, his eyes glazed over.

In the second half, the Weili Football School made mass substitutions, which finally allowed the Quju Youth players to catch their breath, though their attacks remained ineffective. As for the Weili side, they treated the rest of the match as garbage time, passing the ball around to avoid inflating the score any further.

When the final whistle blew, Weili Football School had secured a 7-0 victory over the Quju Youth training camp.

"Brother Sun, this..." Zhao Xiaotang scratched his head, feeling awkward.

Sun Chengtao shook his head. "Skills were not up to par. Losing is to be expected."

Zhao Xiaotang offered a dry laugh, unsure of how to respond.

"That number 5 of yours..." Sun Chengtao suddenly remarked.

"Wei Lai! His name is Wei Lai!" Zhao Xiaotang replied.

Sun Chengtao nodded. "He is indeed excellent at winning the ball. I have never seen Li Ang look so miserable!"

Zhao Xiaotang grinned. "Forget Li Ang. Even He Chaoyue would have his hands full going one-on-one against Wei Lai!"

Sun Chengtao was taken aback. "He Chaoyue?" He knew perfectly well how formidable He Chaoyue was. If Wei Lai could defend against him, then Li Ang’s loss was not unjust.

"If there's anyone in the country who can dribble past or shake off Wei Lai in a one-on-one, I think only Xiang Ming has a chance, and even then, the odds aren't great!"

"He's that good at winning the ball?" Sun Chengtao asked in surprise.

Zhao Xiaotang laughed. "It's not just his tackling. He didn't even get to show his full potential in this match. Wait until we play against Hongyun or Guangfa; you'll understand when you see his performance then."

"So, you've been holding something back?" Sun Chengtao raised an eyebrow.

"Not exactly holding back... ahem..." Zhao Xiaotang looked at Sun Chengtao. "Brother Sun, what about you guys..."

Sun Chengtao smiled. "Heading home. This was a good opportunity for them to realize the gap between themselves and the best in their age group."

While Zhao Xiaotang and Sun Chengtao exchanged pleasantries, the conversation among Wei Lai’s group was heating up—focused, of course, on the pitch next door.

"Those animals!"
"Those jerks!"
"Are they really that arrogant?"

Guo Fan and Yang Fan stood by the fence, looking toward the adjacent pitch. The match on Field A2 had just ended. The Guangfa youth team had defeated the Yunfeng youth team 17-0. The latter was a "wild" training camp—essentially an extracurricular class using a rented field. These young players, lacking basic fundamentals, were naturally slaughtered by the ferocious Guangfa side.

"Hey! You show-off Chen, you've made them cry!"
"Don't you know how to show mercy so we can remain on good terms later?" Guo Fan and Yang Fan shouted.

Chen Shaojie turned his head and laughed. "The same will happen when we face you!"

"Damn?" Guo Fan turned around. "Brother Yang, aren't you going to take him on?"

Chen Shaojie walked over, looked left and right, and said with some disappointment, "He Chaoyue didn't come?"

Guo Fan glared. "What of it? You've got me. I'll take you on!"

Chen Shaojie looked at Guo Fan and smiled. "You’re not quite there yet!"

"Brother Yang! Take him down! I'll back you up."

Yang Fan turned his head. "You really aren't quite there yet!"

Guo Fan: "..."

At this moment, Wei Lai walked over and patted Yang Fan and Guo Fan on the shoulders. "Let's go, time to meet up and head to the hotel."

Wei Lai also looked at Chen Shaojie, who was observing him in return.

"Old Wei, let me introduce you," Yang Fan said, pointing at Chen Shaojie. "Chen Shaojie, my teammate from the U15 national team. He's very capable. You can just call him 'Show-off Chen'!"

Wei Lai grinned at Chen Shaojie. "I'm Wei Lai!"

"Nice to meet you!"

Chen Shaojie was very polite, though he was closely scrutinizing Wei Lai. The reason was simple: Yang Fan’s use of the term "Old Wei." Yang Fan was a player of great skill and even higher standards. In the talent-packed U15 national team, only He Chaoyue and Xiang Ming were addressed as "Old He" and "Old Xiang." In Yang Fan’s words, that was the mark of his professional respect.

Chen Shaojie looked at Wei Lai and smiled. "Should you call me Little Chen?"

"Huh?" Wei Lai was a bit confused.

Chen Shaojie pointed at Yang Fan. "That’s what he calls me!"

"For now, it's Little Chen!" Yang Fan waved his hand. "He hasn't evolved into 'Old Chen' yet, but you can just call him 'Show-off'!"

At this, Chen Shaojie protested. "Why do you always call me a show-off? What’s showy about the way I play?"

Yang Fan replied, "When you play, you wiggle your butt, swaying left and right—tell me, how is that not being a show-off?"

Chen Shaojie rolled his eyes to the heavens. Deciding to ignore Yang Fan, he looked at Wei Lai. "Which position do you play?"

Before Wei Lai could answer, Yang Fan shoved him away. "Let's go, let's go! You said we had to meet up, didn't you? Let's move!"

While pushing Wei Lai, Yang Fan turned back and made a face at Chen Shaojie. Chen Shaojie grinned and shook his head regretfully; he would find out soon enough when they played the match.

Once gathered, they boarded the bus. Yang Fan sat right next to Wei Lai and pointed to his own head. "Show-off Chen has a sharp mind. Give him a bit of information, and he can analyze a dozen problems. You’ll see when the time comes."

"Later?" Wei Lai asked, puzzled.

Yang Fan replied, "The U17 World Cup. Aren't you going to play?"

"Huh? The U17 World Cup?" Although Wei Lai had harbored the thought and made it his goal, he hadn't expected Yang Fan to bring it up.

"This year's U17 team qualified for the World Cup, but next year most of them will be 18. They won't be eligible. The youth national team will definitely need to replenish its roster, and that's when they'll promote from our U15 squad!"

"Isn't there a U16 team? They’ll be exactly 17!"

"Well... let me put it this way: this current U16 group is poor. Aside from a few, the rest are useless! They’re stuck between the U17s and the U15s—it's very awkward!" Yang Fan shook his head. "We played an internal match before. It wasn't public, but I can tell you, we scored this many!"

Yang Fan held up his thumb and little finger, with the other fingers folded.

"Six goals?" Wei Lai was surprised. Even though he knew they would be promoted from the U15s, he hadn't expected that level of internal dominance.

"In that match, He Chaoyue and Xiang Ming went crazy. Neither of the opposing flanks could stop them. Chen Shaojie controlled the tempo, Pei Le led the attack, and as long as the back line held firm, our offensive power was incredibly explosive!"

Yang Fan continued, "I'll be honest with you: this national team is missing a defensive midfielder. A defensive midfielder like you, capable of total coverage—only a fool wouldn't pick you!"

"You're the final piece of the puzzle!"