Chapter Three: Transformation

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Wang Lie stood at the front of the substitutes’ bench, with his assistant coach Norbert DeMoss beside him, quietly giving him last-minute instructions. The team’s head coach, Sven Helden, stood not far away, his eyes fixed on the pitch. After listening to the assistant’s directions, Wang Lie nodded, then walked past Helden toward the fourth official. Helden remained focused on the field, never turning his head. Throughout the entire process, the two men didn’t even exchange glances, let alone words or gestures.

This was the replay shown of what happened at the Sophian United bench just as Wang Lie was about to come on. The meaning behind this scene was clear to all, and the director’s decision to replay it carried plenty of implication. Upon seeing it, Zhou Hong, sitting in her wheelchair, sighed, “I never thought they wouldn’t even bother to keep up appearances anymore…”

A little boy on the sofa to her right piped up, “No way, Grandma! You really thought those two could make up? What are you thinking, Grandma? Huh?”

A middle-aged woman on Zhou Hong’s left turned and glared at the boy. “Wang Ziqi! Is that how you talk to your grandmother?”

Seeing his mother get upset, Wang Ziqi quickly shrugged away from her “murderous glare,” and turned to make faces at his sister, Wang Zilin, who was only five, making her giggle uncontrollably.

Zhou Hong wasn’t at all bothered by her grandson’s tone. She patted his leg lightly, then turned to her daughter-in-law, Tang Xingmei, and asked, “Will this head coach lose his job? If Sophian United don’t finish in the top four…”

For a club as successful as Sophian United, missing out on the Champions League for three consecutive seasons was a humiliation. In an effort to return to Europe’s top competition, they’d changed managers three times in the previous two seasons, all to no avail. It was in this context that the Swedish coach Sven Helden was appointed as the new manager this season—their fourth in three years. The club placed high hopes in Helden, despite his unimpressive resume, giving him unprecedented support.

Helden hadn’t let them down so far. Coming into this FA Cup match, the 2036–2037 Premier League season had just reached its halfway point. Sophian United sat fourth with thirty-seven points, just one behind their archrivals, the Scousers, and four ahead of fifth-placed Waltham. Normally, the top four in the Premier League qualify directly for next season’s Champions League, so if Sophian United could hold their position, they’d be back in Europe’s elite.

But if they didn’t make it, would that mean Helden was just like his predecessors?

Tang Xingmei, knowing what her mother-in-law was thinking, gave a helpless smile. “Whether Helden keeps his job at the end of the season doesn’t affect us, Mom. Lie can’t possibly waste another whole season under this coach…”

Even if Helden were sacked in the summer, it wouldn’t matter to Wang Lie. He was running out of time. His playing minutes had plummeted in the first half of the season, mostly coming on as a substitute, sometimes only in garbage time. How was he supposed to keep form with game time like that? And if he couldn’t, how could he dream of playing at next year’s World Cup in England?

Yes, even though Wang Lie was nearly thirty-eight, he still dreamed of representing his country on football’s biggest stage—his bitter exit at the last World Cup in Saudi Arabia three years ago was never meant to be his farewell, no matter what the world believed at the time.

Hearing her daughter-in-law’s words, Zhou Hong understood all too well the predicament her son faced. Her spirits sagged, but then she remembered it was the winter transfer window and asked hopefully, “Has he found a new club?”

“Fernando is still in Germany, negotiating with Isa Munich. No news yet…” Tang Xingmei wasn’t just trying to comfort her mother-in-law; she really didn’t have any updates. It was match day, and not wanting to distract her husband from his preparations, she hadn’t contacted him.

Zhou Hong was disappointed at the lack of news, but quickly cheered herself up: no news meant no bad news—maybe the deal was done and just needed to be announced after the match.

With that thought, she settled back to watch the game. Most of her son’s matches were played deep into the night, and as she’d grown older, it had become harder to get up at such hours. If this FA Cup tie hadn’t been in prime time at home, she might not have watched it at all. Thankfully, Alatore’s injury meant her son got on as a substitute, making her wait worthwhile.

Zhou Hong fell silent, and so did Tang Xingmei. The family focused intently on the TV.

Out on the pitch, Sophian United were attacking.

Wang Lie, playing as center forward, wasn’t waiting in the box; instead, he dropped deep to midfield to receive the ball, raising his hand to call for it. His teammates immediately played it to him. Before the ball reached him, Wang Lie glanced back—the Dretting midfielders were closing fast. Rather than controlling the ball, he immediately played a lateral pass to his young admirer, Stanley Harris, out on the left.

Co-commentator Zhao Zhou exclaimed excitedly, “That’s Wang Lie’s first touch since coming on!”

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After passing to Harris, Wang Lie spun and sprinted toward the Dretting penalty area. The Dretting player who had been closing him down quickly turned and chased after him, but was half a step slower, trailing Wang Lie by almost a body length.

Seeing this, Harris decided to play the ball into space ahead of Wang Lie, giving him a direct shot at goal! Harris feinted as if to continue down the wing, then, with a flick of the outside of his right boot, played the ball forward.

Wang Lie, watching Harris intently, accelerated as soon as the pass was made. But just as he was about to reach the ball, a force from his side and rear knocked him off balance! He stretched desperately with his foot, but it was no use—he lost his balance and went down, watching helplessly as the Dretting player overtook him and intercepted the ball.

Stanley Harris, seeing this, threw up his hands and shouted at the referee, “Foul!”

But the referee spread his arms, indicating no foul.

Wang Lie was furious, clambering to his feet and yelling at the referee in protest. The referee ignored him, running away and showing only his back.

The broadcast zoomed in on Wang Lie’s lips—he appeared to curse.

Soon, Chinese fans online had made a GIF of the moment, labeling it with four letters:

“WCNM.”

Wang Lie and Harris both thought it was a foul, but most others disagreed, including the commentators.

“Jaden Hope with a brilliant recovery and tackle from behind! That’s excellent defending,” said English commentator Connor Cowley. “A fair challenge—Hope didn’t push with his hands.”

Even Zhao Zhou, a Wang Lie fan, could only sigh, “Wang Lie just couldn’t get up to speed after turning. Hope caught him from behind. It’s clear that, nearly thirty-eight now, Wang Lie’s physical decline is real. His burst over those first few steps just isn’t what it used to be. If he were ten years younger… no, even five years younger, Hope would never have caught him…”

The broadcast replayed the passage: Wang Lie, with his back to goal, played the ball wide to Stanley Harris, then turned to sprint forward. He gave it his all, every muscle straining, but his speed barely increased. Meanwhile, Dretting’s defensive midfielder Jaden Hope, a beat behind in turning, was gaining ground.

Just as Wang Lie was about to reach the ball, Hope caught up, using his side to muscle him off. You could see the veins bulging on Wang Lie’s neck—he was fighting to hold Hope off, but in the end, he failed.

This episode left many of Wang Lie’s fans in China silent. Jaden Hope, a Championship player, was an unknown on the world stage. Yet here he was, completely outmuscling the once-invincible Wang Lie.

Nothing could more starkly show Wang Lie’s age.

With his thirty-eighth birthday in mid-February, his physical decline would only accelerate…

This prospect was unbearably painful for those who still loved and supported Wang Lie.

Their hero, their idol, was struggling on the world’s stage.

Meanwhile, those who disliked Wang Lie were in a frenzy.

Just look at the barrage of comments from Chi Zhen’s fans—mockingly called the “pretty boy’s stans”—scrolling across the domestic broadcast…

And that was only what could be seen at home; the attacks abroad would be even more ferocious.

Ridicule, criticism, and personal attacks had gone on for over half a year. In theory, Wang Lie’s fans should have grown numb, but it was still impossible to ignore or remain unbothered.

The live comments on Bilibili’s FA Cup stream had become a battlefield once again…

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Just as Wang Lie’s fans expected, at that very moment, social media abroad was abuzz with celebration among those who never liked him:

“Look at those clumsy steps. I don’t understand how Wang’s brainless fans dare to criticize Helden for not giving him chances. If I were Helden, I wouldn’t play Wang either!”

“Another day, another new high in Sven Helden’s legacy!”

“Fact is, nearly thirty-eight, Wang has no business playing in Europe anymore. Why doesn’t he just go back to China? Is it because Chinese clubs have no money? But the media is always bragging about how rich China is, aren’t they? Didn’t they say ‘the Chinese will buy the whole world!’?”

“If a Championship player can dominate him so easily, I don’t know how this guy was ever considered one of the best players… Maybe it’s because TIKTOK is Chinese?”

“How dare you suggest the ‘King of Chinese Football’ was just a product of hype!”

“This is what Chinese players should look like in football! Thank you, Dretting and Jaden Hope, for tearing off Wang’s disguise and showing the world the truth!”

“Chinese fans actually say Wang belongs in the same class as Arthur Elone and Roniel Nascimento—they even invented a term, ‘The Three Peerless Beauties,’ meaning Wang, Arthur, and Roniel are the top three players in the world. Oh, come on, China, how dare you?”

“I hear Wang’s agent is negotiating with Isa Munich? My God! I hope it falls through… As a fan of Isa Munich, I really can’t understand why a Bundesliga giant would sign a thirty-eight-year-old ‘old man.’ I can’t imagine what Wang’s agent was thinking, going after Isa Munich. Do we look like a retirement home?”

…

If those could be called “reasoned” criticism, there was plenty more that was pure abuse, devoid of substance.

If you knew who these people supported, you wouldn’t be surprised:

They were mostly concentrated among a few clubs.

Clayton Athletic, the Scousers, Madrid FC, and Barcelona Athletic.

Clayton Athletic were Sophian United’s city rivals.

The Scousers were their league rivals from Liverpool.

Barcelona Athletic was a special case—it was Wang Lie’s former club.

Wang Lie had played for this La Liga powerhouse for four years, achieving great success, but left on bad terms. Every time he met Barcelona Athletic in European competition, he played with particular fire, holding no sentiment for his old club.

For example, in the 2029–2030 season, Wang Lie led Sophian United to a historic “quadruple,” defeating his former club Barcelona Athletic in the Champions League final. He was outstanding in that match, scoring the winner and celebrating wildly, deeply wounding the hearts of Barcelona’s fans.

So, to many Barcelona Athletic supporters, Wang Lie was the ultimate traitor and deserved no goodwill.

As for Madrid FC, the explanation was simple—they were Barcelona’s century-old rivals. With Wang Lie having played for Barcelona, how could Madrid fans possibly like him? Besides, Madrid’s current star, Arthur Elone, had previously played for the Scousers, Sophian United’s archrivals, and had his own storied history with Wang Lie. Madrid fans would naturally support their own man.

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The haters could mock Wang Lie all they liked, but the Dretting players on the field dared not take lightly the number nine of Sophian United.

This was, after all, the deadliest finisher among active players.

If the haters were proven wrong, they could just bury their heads in the sand; the internet never remembers. After all, who would bother to hunt down the posts of some random fan?

But if the Dretting players got caught out, the consequences would be dire…

After their successful tackle on Wang Lie, Dretting launched a counter, but it posed no real threat—Sophian United’s captain, center-back Tyler Murphy, broke it up just outside the box, then looked up and hit a long pass toward Wang Lie.

Wang Lie, running back, jumped for the ball.

At the same moment, Dretting’s center-back Liam Griffin challenged him in the air, but Wang Lie, having anticipated the play and positioned himself early, held Griffin off. Wang Lie nodded the ball down and away toward the advancing right winger, Adel Degert.

The previously subdued Redstone Stadium erupted in cheers!

Wang Lie, meanwhile, was knocked to the ground by Griffin’s challenge.

But that didn’t matter; all eyes were on Degert.

The referee signaled advantage and let play continue.

But in the end, Sophian United’s attack came to nothing—Degert’s attempt to cut in from the wing was foiled by Dretting’s defense.

Though they didn’t score, co-commentator Zhao Zhou praised Wang Lie’s contribution: “That’s what a center forward brings! With Wang Lie on, Sophian United can finally hold the ball up front. When Alatore was on, he couldn’t do this kind of heading!”

Live comments flashed across the screen:

“Cringe…”

“Keep licking!”

“Heh.”

But the broadcast replayed Wang Lie’s header, the director using the footage to make clear who had been key to the move.

Though he’d lost out in a sprint to Dretting’s midfielder, sprint speed wasn’t everything for a center forward.

Online, it was all mockery, as if that lost ball was an unforgivable sin. But Wang Lie himself wasn’t affected; he remained focused on the game.

Soon, he found himself unexpectedly in possession just outside the box—a deflected ball from Stanley Harris’s run landed at his feet.

He shaped to shoot, fooling Dretting’s defenders, but it was a feint. With the outside of his boot, he shifted the ball across the area and again faked a shot, sending a second defender sprawling. This time, he finally did shoot!

The ball slipped between the two defenders, arrowing for the far corner.

“Wang—WOOOOOW!” exclaimed Connor Cowley, as the ball flew just outside the far post.

“Oh no!” Zhao Zhou shouted, hands on his head. “So close! Just missed!”

Wang Ziqi, tense on the sofa, slammed back into the cushions, while his sister Zilin shrieked—whether from fright or disappointment at her father’s missed chance, it was impossible to say.

Their grandmother Zhou Hong heaved a long sigh.

Tang Xingmei, however, remained calm.

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Though Wang Lie’s shot didn’t go in, it clearly lifted the team’s spirits, and the atmosphere at Redstone Stadium grew ever more charged.

Sophian United’s fans began singing again:

“…We are Sophian United, from the heart of Sophord! Red flames surround us! Molten rock flows beneath our feet! Sophian United! Sophian United! Ever forward, glorious Sophian United!!”

Commentator Connor Cowley looked around at the waving scarves and singing fans, exclaiming, “Redstone Stadium is alive again!”

Not just the stadium—the team itself had come alive.

With Wang Lie up front, Sophian United’s attack was clearly more potent. They finally had a forward who could hold up the ball.

Though Wang Lie had never been a classic back-to-goal striker—he was always a finisher, facing the goal—his presence made an immediate difference.

“That’s what you call a backbone!” Zhao Zhou continued his praise.

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With someone who could hold the ball up, Sophian United’s fullbacks dared push forward more in attack.

In the sixty-fourth minute, left-back Pablo Castin exploited the space created by Stanley Harris on the wing, burst forward, and crossed into the box.

As he crossed, Wang Lie charged toward the near post, drawing the Dretting defenders’ attention.

This time, center-back Liam Griffin marked Wang Lie tightly, with others also watching his every move.

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But Castin’s cross wasn’t aimed at Wang Lie—it flew to the far post!

There, arriving from deep, was Sophian United’s defensive midfielder Andreas Lilles!

“Lilles—!” yelled Connor Cowley.

With nearly every Dretting player fixated on Wang Lie, Lilles rose unchallenged to meet the ball.

This is it, surely!

Redstone Stadium reached a fever pitch.

But the next instant, the cheers turned to groans.

Lilles had headed over!

The ball arced over Wang Lie’s head and flew over the bar.

“Oh, Lilles! Even I could have scored that!” Zhao Zhou lamented. “He completely wasted Wang Lie’s movement and cover! My brother Wang drew all the defense and still Lilles missed such a golden chance… Useless! Just useless!”

On screen, Lilles clutched his head in disbelief, eyes wide as he stared at the stand behind the goal—the final resting place of the ball.

As a defensive midfielder, Lilles was no slouch in the air, but contesting for headers in midfield was hardly the same as finishing in front of goal.

The broadcast cut to Wang Lie, who, seeing his teammate’s missed chance, spread his hands in frustration, slamming them down—almost as if he’d been the one to miss.

Of course, some would interpret that as “Wang Lie showing frustration at his wasteful teammate” or “blaming a teammate for missing a chance”…

And don’t think that’s far-fetched—after the match, haters would cut clips and spread them online. It had already happened many times before.

It was often joked online that Wang Lie’s most loyal viewers were his haters—they never missed a match, watching every second with a magnifying glass, looking for faults to trumpet.

A curious proof of the saying: “No one knows you better than your enemies.”

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Lilles’s miss didn’t stop Sophian United’s onslaught.

They kept threatening Dretting’s goal.

Connor Cowley, with a hint of mockery, quipped, “Now Redstone Stadium finally looks like Sophian United’s home, and the team finally remember they’re a Premier League club…”

With Sophian United’s relentless pressure, Dretting were forced to sit deep, clearly hoping to hold on for a 0–0 draw.

The FA Cup is a one-legged knockout competition, famous for upsets. But before the last sixteen, there’s no extra time or penalties—if it’s a draw, there’s a replay. If the replay is also drawn, then thirty minutes of extra time and, if needed, penalties.

Dretting clearly wanted to take it to a replay on their own ground.

Sophian United had no intention of letting them.

Leaving aside the disruption to preparations and needless fatigue, there was pride at stake—being taken to a replay by a second-division club would be a humiliation for a European powerhouse.

So Sophian United pressed harder, determined to break through in the final twenty minutes.

In the seventy-first minute, fourteen minutes after Wang Lie came on, they attacked again.

But facing Dretting’s packed defense, their options were limited—they passed laterally outside the box, trying to stretch the defense and create openings through movement.

With each switch of play, Dretting’s defense had to shift; too many shifts and mistakes creep in.

After some probing, Dretting’s backline was clearly slower and less coordinated in their shifts.

So when left winger Stanley Harris received the ball on the left, he wasted no time, swinging in a diagonal pass to the weak side—Sophian United’s right flank.

Their right winger, Adel Degert, had already drifted inside, dragging a defender with him and leaving space out wide.

Harris spotted the chance.

As he played the ball, right-back Josh Hughes was already on the move, bursting forward.

Amid deafening cheers, Hughes reached the ball.

“Hughes surges forward! Great first touch!”

Hughes cut diagonally into the box.

Dretting’s defenders scrambled to stop him or force him wide.

At the same time, Sophian United’s players raced into the box to meet his cross.

Degert made a near-post run, trailed by a Dretting defender.

Behind them, in the middle, was Wang Lie—shadowed by two defenders!

Clearly, Dretting’s players didn’t underestimate this “overhyped” thirty-seven-year-old, unlike the keyboard warriors online…

Almost at the byline, Hughes looked up and cut the ball back, not for Degert at the near post, but for Wang Lie in the center—a classic cutback!

The near-post defender, already drawn by Degert, desperately stuck out a leg as the ball passed behind him—he got a touch.

The ball’s trajectory changed, wrong-footing Wang Lie, who’d been perfectly positioned.

Instead of landing right at his feet, it rolled behind him.

Reacting instinctively, Wang Lie slammed on the brakes, twisting to reach the ball.

But his body, nearly thirty-eight, let him down. His left knee—the one bearing all his weight—couldn’t generate the explosive power he needed.

As he tried to force it, his knee buckled. He couldn’t hold himself up—he fell the other way.

All-out sprint, sudden stop, change of direction—too much for a body this age.

He was trapped by his own body but still managed to turn his head, tracking the ball to see who would get it.

Through his wobbling, tilted vision, he saw a player in Sophian United red emerge from the crowd, accelerate toward the ball, and swing his left foot.

“Stanley—!” Connor Cowley screamed the name.

The crowd was already cheering—at the ball’s destination, only Stanley Harris was present; no Dretting defender in sight.

It was a chance even a grandmother could score!

Harris met the rolling ball and struck it clean and true.

With a thud, the net bulged—the ball was in!

“—Harris! A brilliant goal! Seventy-fifth minute, and Sophian United finally lead at home! It’s 1–0 against Dretting!”

Redstone Stadium erupted in jubilation.

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PS: During this new book period, please support by bookmarking, voting, and following! Thank you!

Special thanks to yesterday’s two “Allies,” “Sanmu Janssen” and “Nottingham’s Forest”! Sorry that, with my current slower pace, I can’t add bonus chapters for new Allies, but I’ll do my best to maintain quality as thanks for your support!

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