At first, the players in the locker room were still immersed in the pain of conceding a goal.

They could have held the first half, yet were broken through in the final moments. Combined with Qin Qiechu’s earlier harsh words, everyone was holding back their emotions, that feeling of being just short by a bit hovering over everyone’s hearts.

So they didn’t immediately react to Lin Wanxing’s words.

After a while, Qin Ao was the first to respond.

“Who did you say?” Qin Ao tilted his head slightly, asking with an almost fierce tone.

“Wen Chengye,” Lin Wanxing said with certainty.

“He came?” Qin Ao threw aside his towel and stood up. All the humiliation from the match suddenly surged up. He looked around the locker room, almost lifting the lockers. “What kind of joke is this? If he came, where is he?”

“I’m not joking. At four-thirty this morning, he got on the bus from Hongjiang to Yongchuan, but the bus he was on was hijacked, so he couldn’t make it,” Lin Wanxing recounted what had happened.

The students all widened their eyes, some even rubbing their ears.

More unbelievable than the fact that Wen Chengye had come was the reason he hadn’t been able to reach the Yongchuan field.

“Did he tell you that? He’s lying to you, right?”

“How is that possible? Can a bus be hijacked?”

The students were very skeptical about Wen Chengye. First of all, they didn’t believe that selfish, cold-hearted person would board the bus to Yongchuan.

“Open your phones now and search for news about the Hongjiang Shifang Road section. You’ll see news about a bus being robbed at gunpoint. If you don’t believe it, check for yourselves.”

The students immediately searched for their phones, using their dirty hands to search the web pages. After a while, they found this was true.

“We’ve already confirmed with the police,” Lin Wanxing said.

Strange, absurd, bizarre—like a huge black painting that had sucked everyone in.

The entire locker room fell into silence again.

“What an idiot,” Qin Ao put down his phone and took a deep breath.

“Is he sick or something?”

“Why would he come…”

“Is he okay now?”

“He’s fine.”

“Isn’t the rest stop far from us? Can he make it?”

Lin Wanxing shook her head. “He won’t make it in time.”

For the first ten minutes after learning the news, the Hongjiang Eighth Middle School students hadn’t fully processed it.

Many questions confused them. After the initial disbelief came overwhelming bewilderment.

Why would something like this happen?

Why would he come?

Why?

The halftime break was only 15 minutes long.

They had no time to digest this before they needed to return to the field.

Around them were the strong opponents they were facing. Players from both sides were scattered across the field, preparing for kickoff.

The lake wind blew in from the southwest of the field, making everyone shiver.

Qin Ao raised his head.

Opposite them, two Yongchuan Hengda forwards stood at the center circle kickoff point. Behind them, four midfielders stood in a row, and further back were four defenders. The opponent’s formation was complete; everyone looked ready to tear them apart.

And what about them? Five defenders stood in front of the penalty area, three midfielders in the middle, and at the very front, only he stood alone.

He suddenly looked back.

Looking at the empty position in the defensive line behind him.

So, he wanted to come?

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the highway rest stop, there was also a wetland lake.

Vast fields of bluish-green reeds surrounded the light blue lake surface. When the wind blew, it stirred up ripples of bluish-green all around.

The halftime break was possibly the most torturous moment in Wen Chengye’s life.

He kept opening his chat with Lin Wanxing, knowing that the break hadn’t ended yet, but he just kept clicking. He watched the short videos Lin Wanxing had sent several more times, repeatedly watching that goal.

They could have defended it.

Suddenly, a huge argument erupted in the rest area.

He looked up in confusion, not knowing what was happening.

There seemed to be camera flashes and other things happening.

But he wasn’t in that world at all; he remained trapped in that reed thicket.

He suddenly wondered why he hadn’t left earlier.

When the WeChat call rang.

Qin Qiechu’s shot had just been blocked by Lin Lu. The ground was slippery, and both players fell. The referee showed Lin Lu a yellow card.

Because the situation was tense, Lin Wanxing didn’t immediately notice her phone vibrating.

Wang Fa glanced at her and pointed to her phone. Only then did Lin Wanxing realize her phone was ringing.

It was a video call.

When she answered, she only saw gray-white floor tiles.

The image was trembling slightly.

Lin Wanxing took a few steps back and sat back down on the bench in the rest area.

The lake breeze, laden with moisture, brushed past her ears.

“Wen Chengye,” she calmed herself and spoke slowly.

For a while, there was only the gently swaying ground on the other end of the video.

The clouds above seemed to have grown thicker.

“I won’t make it in time.”

The voice came from the other end of the phone.

A drop of rain fell on the back of her hand.

What kind of feeling was it?

You thought the goal in the last moment of the first half would be enough to crush this team.

Many matches were like this—everyone held back until they lost that energy, and then they’d give up at the start of the second half. Either numb, dispassionate defense or chaotic, random attacks.

However, Hongjiang Eighth Middle School was different.

They clearly had no hope left; they were still in a daze at the beginning of the second half.

Why, after kickoff, did they quickly restore their previously solid defensive formation?

Qin Qiechu didn’t understand.

But it didn’t matter; he didn’t need to understand his opponents’ thoughts.

Even the most solid wall has moments when it cannot withstand impact.

So after kickoff, they directly began their tireless attack, frantically assaulting Hongjiang Eighth Middle School’s defensive line.

Brute force breaks all methods.

Qin Qiechu quickly moved to the wing, created a gap with a forceful breakthrough, then immediately lifted his foot to pass the ball.

The football entered the penalty area. Neither team’s central players touched it, and the ball flew toward the far post.

The Hengda player shook off Fu Xinshu’s defense in a sprint and, facing the descending football, directly shot!

The loud “bang” seemed like a wake-up call for the Hongjiang Eighth Middle School players.

The football hit the crossbar and bounced high.

This was an excellent opportunity—just a little bit more!

Even Hengda’s head coach couldn’t help jumping up on the sideline.

The moment the ball bounced out of the goal, Qin Ao became fully alert.

A cold drop fell on his brow.

He suddenly wondered, how many shots was that?

…

The sixteenth shot.

At the sixteenth shot.

The dark clouds that had accumulated in the sky finally turned into rain.

The video call on the sideline was still connected, but no one was speaking.

Lin Wanxing held her phone, trying to give the person on the other end a clear view of the match.

Though it was just a drizzle, it made quite a racket when hitting the canopy of the coach’s bench.

The rain made the already slick grass field even more slippery.

A brutal collision occurred at the edge of the penalty area.

Fu Xinshu and Yongchuan Hengda’s number 11 forward crashed heavily into each other. Both covered their foreheads, unable to recover immediately.

Taking advantage of this pause, Yongchuan Hengda players went off the field to change into longer cleats.

The Yongchuan Hengda Youth Team’s head coach rubbed the slippery grass with the sole of his foot.

No team likes playing in the rain. When wet, grass blades become particularly slippery, and frequently trodden areas of the field become muddy after being trampled. Whether slippery or muddy, both conditions cause the ball to be more affected when rolling on the ground.

Defensive teams hate rain, but rain affects attacking teams even more.

Inadvertently, he looked toward the adjacent coach’s bench again.

That person had not made any moves to direct his players from beginning to end.

He just stood silently on the sideline, showing no emotion whether the defense succeeded or not as if this match had nothing to do with him.

But from the start, he had his players change into long cleats.

His players would expend more energy, offsetting the added grip, while sacrificing running speed in exchange for ensuring his players wouldn’t fall for no reason, reducing potential defensive errors.

He suddenly felt a sense of purpose in the match beyond winning or losing, though he couldn’t quite understand it at the moment.

He just felt the other side was also gambling, but even if they bet on rain, making our attack more difficult…

So what?

You have no counterattack means. This is a match destined to be without hope.

What are you betting on?

Step by step on the muddy grass.

Fu Xinshu was soaked through. He stood up; his head still hurt and seemed swollen, but it didn’t matter.

He also understood the coach’s intention. This was a hellish defensive trial.

His body was already very tired.

He had just learned that the match had progressed to the 61st minute.

So they had been defending for this long.

Against Yongchuan Hengda, with a 1-0 score maintained until now.

Then, what if there was one more person?

This thought couldn’t help but occur to him.

Perhaps the defensive line they worked so hard to maintain would be easily torn apart by that person.

Perhaps they would argue and curse, perhaps they couldn’t cooperate at all.

Just as he had firmly believed before.

But what if…

What if he were here?

Would they have another possibility?

In the rain, Fu Xinshu felt a cloud-high wall standing before him.

He had thought that no matter how hard he ran, he couldn’t cross this wall called fate.

But now, standing on the field for perhaps his second-to-last match in life, standing at this huge turning point called fate,

He suddenly realized how ridiculous his “had thought” was.

He couldn’t cross this wall, not because he didn’t run hard enough, but because he had given up.

He thought Wen Chengye didn’t want to win, so he gave up too.

But now, he was very reluctant; he regretted it.

He regretted it very, very much.

The twentieth shot.

Feng Suo didn’t know that was Yongchuan Hengda’s twentieth organized attack of the match.

Yongchuan Hengda’s players were more technically oriented, but the rain hindered ground attacks, so they could only play high and long.

No need to talk about tactics or coordination, just constantly sending long crosses into the penalty area, and then competing for the header. Hengda continuously launched the ball from both wings and the middle, directly passing into the penalty area looking for opportunities.

They had at least four or five players in the penalty area ready to contest, knowing Hongjiang Eighth Middle School couldn’t organize an effective attack. They didn’t need many reservations.

Qin Qiechu dropped back to receive the ball and then distributed it to the wing. The wing player forcefully broke through Lin Lu’s defense. Although Lin Lu turned around to chase valiantly, his steps were already staggering.

Yongchuan Hengda’s wingback shook off Lin Lu in one go, cut into the penalty area, and facing Zheng Feiyang who came to cover, he deftly chipped the ball to the far post. Fang Sulun followed up cleverly, meeting the ball with an aerial bombardment.

The football flew at high speed; rain made Feng Suo’s vision blurry.

He threw himself toward the football. The next moment, he crashed heavily into the goalpost and then fell on the goal line, covered in mud and water.

The football was firmly protected under his body.

Wen Chengye held his phone. He felt as if he too was in that heavy rain, completely drenched.

In the video, the goalkeeper didn’t get up for a long time.

He could hear some conversation between Lin Wanxing and the coach on the sideline, but couldn’t hear clearly.

It was too far away. He gripped the edge of his phone, his knuckles completely white.

The phone battery was getting low. WeChat popped up another notification message:

“You and your mother are cut from the same cloth.”

Wen Chengye didn’t feel angry.

The rest stop was too cold; he curled up in his chair.

He just felt that perhaps this statement wasn’t wrong.

If they weren’t the same…

He shouldn’t be sitting here.

He could have left earlier, could have communicated properly, could have tried to cooperate.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t bow his head.

So he was here, not there.

He was trapped in this narrow track in his heart that seemed to stretch endlessly, so he lost the chance to stand on that field.

He regretted it deeply.

He was unwilling to accept it.

The rain on the field grew heavier.

The twenty-first shot.

Qi Liang flew through the air for a header clearance. The Yongchuan Hengda player couldn’t retract his foot in time, and his cleats directly kicked Qi Liang’s face.

The twenty-second shot.

Lin Lu threw himself out, blocking a cross.

The twenty-third shot.

Qin Ao had already fallen but was still using his body to forcibly block Fang Sulun, taking the opponent down with him into the muddy grass.

Hengda players took a corner kick. The football approached the goal, and Feng Suo came out to try to catch it.

However, a gust of wind blew in, and rain hit his eyes. He blinked, losing a step.

Feng Suo couldn’t get the ball; it flew past his hands toward the far post…

Lin Lu jumped there, preparing to head the ball away.

Hengda’s defender, who had moved up to assist, used his height advantage to overpower Lin Lu, flicking his head to shoot!

The football instantly changed direction, flying toward the empty goal. Qin Ao, guarding in front of the goal, flew to intercept, barely extending his foot, kicking the ball away in mid-air!

Just at that moment, Qin Qiechu abruptly appeared in the ball’s flight path.

No one knew where he had come from.

The angle was tricky; his posture was awkward. In that situation, there was no room to shoot. He just positioned his chest in the ball’s flight path!

The ball Qin Ao cleared hit his chest, then rebounded and flew into the goal.

Rain poured down in sheets.

The referee’s whistle pierced the clouds, but on the field, it was terrifyingly quiet.

Qin Ao knelt in front of the goal, head down, looking at his hands.

He remembered standing at the podium saying, “We’re prepared to face defeat!”

To hell with defeat, I wasn’t prepared at all!

“Ah!” He shouted to the sky.

He slammed the ground hard.

A gentle pat on his shoulder.

Fu Xinshu walked to his side, step by step.

The captain’s forehead was still swollen, his face long stained with mud and grass.

“I always thought he didn’t want to win, but actually, he wanted to win more than us,” he said, lowering his head.

Qin Ao looked at his hand pressing the ground, suddenly recalling the punch he had thrown at Wen Chengye.

Fu Xinshu extended his hand to him: “At least from now on, we can’t lose to him. We have to want to win a little more than he does.”

Qin Qiechu stood beside the two of them.

No longer making any hand gestures.

He saw Qin Ao place his hand in Fu Xinshu’s and saw him use all his strength to stand up again.

Qin Ao thought.

Wang Fa had asked them: which shot did they want to defend?

Not which shot.

But this shot, and the next one!

This was a match where no matter how many shots you defended, you couldn’t achieve victory.

Why continue?

Because they weren’t resigned to it.

The final whistle sounded at Dongming Lake.

0-2, Hongjiang Eighth Middle School’s fourth consecutive defeat.

The rain, at some point, had gradually lessened.

Wind swept across the lakeside field, stirring up layers of misty rain.

Everyone stood where they were.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment.

There was no sound in Lin Wanxing’s WeChat, but she seemed to hear the gentle rustling of reeds where Wen Chengye was.

“I’m such an idiot,” Wen Chengye said.

“I did the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, encountered the stupidest outcome, and I feel like a joke.”

Though he sat in the rest area, with water birds chirping outside the window and bluish-green reeds swaying in the wind, he was truly exhausted. He had run such a long, long road—that narrow track that never showed its end, with a destination he could never reach.

The dividing line called fate stood before him.

One step forward was still a sea of suffering. You might encounter the most laughable situations, the most bizarre experiences, never finding release.

But why still move forward?

The sound of furious footsteps echoed in the space. His father’s figure appeared in the hall.

Wen Chengye stood up and walked toward him.

The next moment, a slap landed on his cheek, and thunder rumbled in his ears.

In the reed thicket, white egrets took flight in alarm.

Wen Chengye looked at his father’s ferocious face.

Yet he felt extraordinarily relieved.

Although he hadn’t reached there, he hadn’t stood still either.

The dark red track beneath his feet continuously extended into the distance. He saw that path.

The phone call ended.

Lin Wanxing suddenly turned and looked at Wang Fa.

The young man’s hat had been blown to the ground at some point. He just tilted his head slightly, looking at the sky.

The fluffy rain had moistened his hair tips and eyelashes.

“I think you two are very similar,” Lin Wanxing said to Wang Fa.

She knew clearly.

At this moment, Wang Fa’s question had been answered.

What is football?

It’s violence, competition, confrontation.

It’s Wen Chengye, who after countless arguments still inexplicably wanted to stand on the field with his teammates.

It’s the heart of ordinary children who wanted to give up but ultimately didn’t, firmly continuing to move forward.

It’s refusing to accept fate and being unwilling to surrender.