Chapter 47
Jiang Yihao's imposing figure dominated every frame, bursting onto the scene like a hero and sweeping away the gloom of the team's slump, reigniting the drowsy crowd.
"Go!"
"Go!"
The arena erupted as everyone rose to their feet, cheering him on. Jiang Yihao became a streak of black lightning, galvanizing the entire team, compressing their formation and driving toward Giant Mountain's half with suffocating pressure.
His long legs pumped furiously, as if he had wind-fire wheels strapped to his feet, leaving three or four Giant Mountain players in his dust in a single breath, crossing from RQ's front field all the way to Giant Mountain's goal.
"Whoa!" Ruan Ning's cousin suddenly shouted. "This guy's got some moves."
"Charge! Come on, come on, come on!" Her cousin set down her snacks and grabbed her arm, shouting with excitement.
Ruan Ning patted her cousin, too afraid to speak loudly, her eyes glued to Jiang Yihao as he blazed past defender after defender.
The live crowd's screams were practically off the decibel charts, nearly lifting the roof off. Even the ever-calm Lao Fang lowered his arms and stepped forward, his eyes widening to follow the action.
The commentator perked up in the studio and tossed out a little rhyme on the fly: "RQ's new recruit is really fired up—call it the fearless calf that defies the tiger, riding solo into Giant Mountain, hahaha."
The whole world watched Jiang Yihao, waiting to see if he'd score, and Ruan Ning was so tense she couldn't feel her own existence—her eyes held only him and the round football at his feet.
A Giant Mountain defender charged head-on at him. Jiang Yihao ran straight at the enemy, then suddenly dropped his shoulder to stop the ball, and at less than two meters' distance, sidestepped with a tight angle, dribbling past the opponent's elbow to shake off the encirclement.
The fooled Giant Mountain player spun around in hot pursuit, and two more defenders rushed in from the front—Jiang Yihao was now trapped in a 1v3.
The entire stadium hushed in unison, watching to see how he'd break free. Every move he made tugged at the hearts of hundreds of millions of viewers worldwide.
In a split second, Giant Mountain closed in on Jiang Yihao and lashed out viciously at the ball.
Ruan Ning covered her eyes, unable to watch. It was over—the ball was doomed.
But Jiang Yihao hooked the ball and held it for a brief pause, then in the blink of an eye, took a huge stride, swung his arm, feigning a burst toward the stopping corner, and traced a graceful arc around his opponent, slipping past with effortless agility!
"Beautiful!" The commentator and the entire crowd roared in unison.
Ruan Ning let out a long breath and smiled. Hadn't she told myself She'd just casually watch? Yet somehow she was getting hooked more and more.
"What you just witnessed was RQ's new number 33, Zhang Hao. The lad's got real flair on the dribble—gives me a hint of Du Jun from back in the day," the commentator praised Jiang Yihao lavishly.
Du Jun was the legendary star of Country A's football twenty years ago, a name inseparable from the country's football history. Hearing such high praise, she felt a quiet joy for Jiang Yihao.
The commentator's tone lightened as well: "Zhang Hao is a youth academy product from RQ, and this is his first professional match. To perform like this on debut is already impressive. I'd bet the happiest man right now is RQ's owner—when the main players are absent, a young blood steps up to carry the banner."
The camera cut to Lao Fang, and his perpetually downturned mouth had loosened at some point, his eyes revealing a satisfied look.
Jiang Yihao single-handedly tore through Giant Mountain's defensive line. Enemies converged from every direction to swarm him, leaving a massive vacuum in front of Giant Mountain's goal.
He chose his moment and kicked with precision—the ball sliced through the crowd like a blade, landing at an RQ teammate's feet directly facing the enemy's goal. Giant Mountain's goalkeeper crouched nervously, swaying left and right, flailing his spider-like hands.
At that moment, the whole world shouted in unison: "Score!" "Score!"
Ruan Ning clasped her hands together, my heart hammering wildly.
The teammate received the ball and, without a second's delay, spun and volleyed—the ball flew like a bullet toward the corner of the frame, then suddenly stopped—caught by Giant Mountain's goalkeeper!
"Aagh!" Ruan Ning's cousin slapped his forehead, groaning along with the live crowd.
"What the heck! Useless teammates," my cousin cursed, blaming the players for wasting a gorgeous goal Jiang Yihao had carved out of the enemy's jaws and fed right to their feet.
Even the commentator couldn't help sighing: "So close. But that's football—weaker teams tend to have stronger defenses, and Giant Mountain's keeper is a top-three name in the A League. Breaking through their goal isn't easy. That's why in football, the underdog doesn't always lose and the favorite doesn't always win. Every goal is hard-earned. That's the beauty of the game."
Ruan Ning pursed her lips, wanting nothing more than to see Jiang Yihao right now.
Jiang Yihao watched the Giant Mountain goalkeeper clutch the ball and roll over, as teammates from all sides ran over to celebrate, his eyes burning with unwillingness.
RQ's players stood frozen in disappointment, still lost in regret over the goal that had slipped through their fingers.
Only Jiang Yihao snapped back into gear. He lifted his jersey to wipe the sweat from his hair, revealing a set of chiseled chocolate abs, then turned and clapped his hands, shouting for his teammates to move and continue defending.
Ruan Ning's cousin said with pity, "So handsome. I want to touch."
She then sighed: "What a shame—that was the best chance. Now Giant Mountain will adjust and RQ's window is gone."
Giant Mountain hadn't expected a newcomer to burst onto the scene, and sure enough, they immediately shifted their focus to specifically mark Jiang Yihao.
No matter where he ran, three or four players shadowed him, smothering his space. With their morale leader trapped, RQ's freshly risen spirit scattered like water once more.
Ruan Ning watched, a dull ache building in her chest, her eyes growing hot.
With his teammates already conceding defeat, only Jiang Yihao refused to give up, sprinting the full length of the field, creating every possible chance. He ran until his hair was soaked, his face flushed red, veins bulging on his forehead.
His fierce, sharp gaze could have killed every opponent on the field—there was no fear of losing in those eyes, only a hunger for victory.
But after more than ten minutes, Giant Mountain's ironclad defense left him utterly futile.
Giant Mountain was a small club to begin with; holding RQ to 0-0 already exceeded expectations. As the match neared the final countdown, their team's morale steadily rose, launching a few final waves of attack, the scales tipping gradually toward Giant Mountain.
My cousin saw RQ's cause was lost and shook his head, pulling out his phone to scroll videos: "Completely hopeless. Ninth last year, and now without Gang Mahaya they can't even beat Giant Mountain. RQ's fallen—don't call them a powerhouse anymore."
"The match isn't over—stop with the doom and gloom," my cousin retorted, though she lacked conviction in her own words.
She'd watched it all: every time the handsome guy won the ball and passed it to a teammate, they were worse than a robot vacuum—couldn't receive a single pass, and got robbed every time. All those tackles he'd taken to win the ball were wasted.
The commentator watched RQ's players squander chance after chance and couldn't help lamenting: "What a pity... if that shot had been just a little lower, it would've gone in."
The camera on RQ had almost entirely cut to Jiang Yihao, because he was the only one moving with real purpose on the field.
Jiang Yihao was everywhere at once—attacking one moment, defending the next, and constantly dropping to midfield to share the playmaking burden.
Alone, he faced dozens of Giant Mountain players who took turns hacking at his legs and body-checking him. He fell again and again, only to spring right back up and fight for the ball.
Jiang Yihao's lip was bleeding, and the team doctor rushed over to treat him, but he refused without even looking, his eyes fixed on the football, charging on with a body smeared in mud and grass, feeling no pain.
With the youngest body on the team and zero big-game experience, he single-handedly carried RQ, refusing to let them kneel before a second-rate little club.
The match's final countdown was ticking away at breakneck speed, making each of Jiang Yihao's desperate harries look more like futile suicide charges against Giant Mountain's massive wall.
Ruan Ning gripped the hem of my clothes, an indescribable ache flooding her heart.
She was a fragile, overthinking person—when faced with hardship, she only wanted to run. If she knew a situation was doomed, She'd surrender and accept her fate early. But Jiang Yihao possessed a tenacity she could never have—refusing to give up even in adversity, fighting to his last breath to win.
Watching the weary, resolute look in his eyes after such a brutal battle, Ruan Ning felt a sense of strangeness. She could no longer see him as the bright, naive boy from before—he was a real man now. The thought startled her, and she quickly pushed it away.
As the match wound down, the main spectacle became how long Jiang Yihao could hold out. The moment he gave up would be the moment RQ collapsed.
Ruan Ning couldn't bear to imagine the pressure he carried on that field, under the eyes of millions, and let out a regretful sigh.
Back at the stadium, Lao Fang watched the child he'd pinned his hopes on standing alone, using his body against seasoned veterans' relentless attacks, and pressed a hand to his brow.
The Gang Mahaya incident had affected the match—without it, he could have been sheltered behind his seniors, gaining experience. But this kid valued winning above all else, throwing his young body in front of Giant Mountain, straining every fiber to defend RQ's honor.
He looked up—only three minutes and change remained, the outcome decided. He let out a deep sigh.
On the vast pitch, Jiang Yihao was still battling, still pressing.
The sky had turned black, and fans were already trickling out of the stands. He glanced at the glaring red countdown above his head, bent over, hands on knees, gasping for air.
His throat tasted of blood. In one match, he had run thirteen kilometers straight—more than his teammates combined. His body was now like a fuel tank burned to the dregs, utterly devoid of strength.
Jiang Yihao thought of the endless days and nights he'd trained through thunder and wind, and suddenly a headache hit him.
The match entered its final minute, and the entire stadium was silently counting down, the seconds ticking soundlessly into Jiang Yihao's ears.
Jiang Yihao cursed furiously in his heart, his temper flaring as he wanted to punch the whole world—didn't any of them believe RQ could win?!
He straightened up and ran forward again, then looked up and caught sight of the VIP box he'd reserved in advance. Even at the end of the match, it remained empty.
He stopped abruptly.
The entire stadium gasped in shock—what reason could make the ever-charging Jiang Yihao halt in his tracks?
Jiang Yihao quickly averted his gaze and resumed his desperate battle against Giant Mountain.
With thirty seconds left on the clock, the ball suddenly flew out from the edge of Giant Mountain's penalty area, shooting straight toward the corner flag by the sideline.
The players scattered, none bothering to chase it. The corner flag sat level with the goal; even if someone retrieved it, there was no threat. With only thirty seconds left and the result all but sealed, no one paid the stray ball any mind.
But suddenly, like a ghost, Jiang Yihao had accelerated to the corner-kick zone, and with his last ounce of strength, he struck. The ball skimmed parallel to the goal and curved in a graceful arc through the air—in!