Chapter 1 The Chinese Team Strikes Back

After the match restarted, the Chinese team launched their counterattack, and the English team cooperated by retreating into defense.

The song "Jingzhong Baoguo" (Serving the Country with Utmost Loyalty) would ring out every so often, especially when the Chinese team couldn't break the deadlock; it was even more effective than the national anthem.

Li Yongle, who was originally organizing the attack from the back, made a feint to pass the ball, then suddenly dribbled forward, charging all the way to the edge of the penalty area. Before the opposing defenders could stop him, he took a long shot!

His signature rebound shot, Robinson fumbled the save. Fortunately, Rio Ferdinand reacted quickly and cleared the ball with a long kick.

"Concentrate on defense! Concentrate!" Rio shouted loudly, clapping his hands after the clearance. "Why didn't anyone go up to defend him just now?!"

It was a throw-in for the Chinese team, with Xiang Tao coming up on the left to take it. He wrapped the ball in his jersey and wiped it, then raised the ball over his head, took several steps back, and built up his running distance. Seeing this posture, everyone knew he was going to throw the ball directly into the penalty area with force.

A good throw-in specialist's throw is even more threatening than a corner kick because controlling the ball with your hands is more reliable than controlling it with your feet.

Xiang Tao was such a person; his throw-ins were as accurate as grenades.

The English team knew his characteristics, so they focused on reinforcing their defense in the penalty area. This was one of the few opportunities for the Chinese team to directly attack their penalty area, so they couldn't afford to be careless.

Xiang Tao started his run-up, and just when everyone thought he would throw the ball directly to Zhang Jun in the penalty area, he threw the ball to Ke Lu, who came up to meet it!

Ke Lu received the ball and turned around, and none of the English players came up to defend him. He unceremoniously dribbled towards the penalty area.

The English defense was indeed tight, but it also depended on which team they were playing. In the 2002 Korea-Japan World Cup, their defense was very successful against Argentina, but they lost to Brazil. This was because Argentina didn't have Riquelme at that time, while Brazil had Ronaldinho.

Now the Chinese team had Ke Lu. Li, who was no less than either of them, so the English defense was worthless in Ke Lu's eyes. He could come and go as he pleased; there was nothing he couldn't do as long as he wanted to.

Glen Johnson, the English right-back defending on the right flank, stepped forward to defend, but Ke Lu easily shook him off!

"He's into the penalty area! Look, two English players are coming to defend him at the same time, giving him a lot of respect!" the commentator shouted.

Two people defending Ke Lu meant that the marking on the others wasn't as tight. Taking advantage of the fact that Rio and Lampard hadn't closed in on him, Ke Lu passed the ball between them.

Wu Shangshan, unmarked, appeared where he should be, and then shot!

Robinson dived towards the ball, but he didn't touch it. Amidst exclamations, Wu Shangshan blasted the ball high.

He regretfully held his head, watching the ball finally land on the stands behind the goal.

"What a scare! Wu Shangshan missed a golden opportunity! Ke Lu's breakthrough was really beautiful. On the right flank, on the left flank, the English defenders simply couldn't do anything about him. The English penalty area is like his own backyard; he can come and go as he pleases, and no one can stop him!"

"The Chinese team's attack is becoming more and more fierce after losing the ball. How long can the English hold on with this kind of defense?"

※※※

Ten minutes had passed since the English team scored, and it was already the thirty-fifth minute of the first half, with just over ten minutes left until the end of the first half. The English goal was still tightly sealed. Apart from long shots, the Chinese team could only rely on Ke Lu's forceful breakthroughs, and they hadn't scored yet.

The commentator had once questioned whether England's negative tactics could withstand the Chinese team's bombardment, knowing that the Chinese team's attacking strength in this World Cup could be compared with that of Brazil.

But from the current situation, they had indeed successfully defended against the Chinese team's attacks time after time.

Ke Lu once again broke through forcefully in the middle, and as he approached the goal, he was tripped by Gerrard. "Yellow card! Yellow card!" the Chinese fans shouted loudly, knowing that the referee couldn't understand, but they wanted to use this shouting to create psychological pressure on Gerrard, who had committed the foul.

Gerrard was explaining to the referee, who didn't show a card but gave him a verbal warning.

Lampard stepped forward and helped Ke Lu, who was lying on the ground, and patted him on the head in a friendly manner. Now that the English team was in the lead, Lampard was in a good mood.

Ke Lu was used to being tripped, pulled down, and pushed down by others, and he didn't have any emotional fluctuations. He stood up, stepped aside, and let Zhang Jun take the free kick.

Zhang Jun, Yang Pan, and Xiang Tao all stood in front of the ball. The ball was about twenty meters from the goal. To be honest, any of the three would be a threat to take it. Yang Pan and Xiang Tao had very similar free-kick styles, both being power-based, while Zhang Jun was more of a technical player.

However, everyone still remembered the free kick in the match between China and Ukraine in the last World Cup, when Zhang Jun cleverly assisted Yang Pan to score.

Therefore, England didn't dare to be negligent. They set up a seven-man wall to block the free kick. Robinson was nervously shouting and directing the wall's positioning, trying to seal off the near post as much as possible so that the ball wouldn't have an angle to fly in from that side. He was guarding the center of the goal, so he could reach either the near post or the far post in the fastest time.

Zhang Jun stood on the right side of the ball, while Yang Pan stood on the left side and didn't build up a running distance. It looked like Yang Pan wouldn't be taking the kick. Xiang Tao, on the other hand, had retreated about five or six meters. The wall and the goalkeeper began to focus their attention on Xiang Tao, who was making full preparations.

After the wall was set up, the referee retreated from the penalty area, and then he blew the whistle.

Xiang Tao started his run-up, indeed heading towards the ball. The English players also knew that Xiang Tao's habit was to powerfully shoot the ball, letting it drill into the goal from under the feet of the jumping wall. So since Xiang Tao was taking the kick, the wall absolutely couldn't jump, couldn't give up the space under their feet to the opponent.

Zhang Jun passed the ball to Yang Pan, and Yang Pan stepped on it. This further deepened the English players' belief that Xiang Tao was going to follow up with a powerful shot. Unexpectedly, Xiang Tao suddenly swerved halfway through his run and ran past Zhang Jun, while Zhang Jun followed up with a shot, lifting the ball that Yang Pan was holding down. The ball went around the wall and flew straight to the near post!

Robinson had the wall stand close to the corner, hoping to seal off the near post, but Zhang Jun's left-footed shot still went around the wall!

Fortunately, the crowd in the penalty area didn't block goalkeeper Robinson's view. He flew to save, but the ball went over the crossbar and landed on the net above.

The Chinese team still hadn't scored!

"Look at this ball... What a scare! The Chinese team's free-kick coordination tricked the English wall, but although the ball kicked out by Zhang Jun bypassed the wall, it flew directly out of the crossbar because it was too high!"

Zhang Jun waved his hand in annoyance and ran away. He always felt that the opponent's wall hadn't retreated enough 9.15 meters, otherwise he wouldn't have increased his power in order to bypass the wall, causing the ball to be kicked too high.

And Xiang Tao, who had just come up to cooperate with Zhang Jun's shot, was quickly running back. When passing Zhang Jun, he turned his head and applauded Zhang Jun: "Next time, it will definitely go in!"

Zhang Jun smiled wryly. Next time, next time. If every time is next time, then the game will be over soon. What's the use of next time if the current opportunity can't be seized?

※※※

Zhang Jun was figuratively described by FIFA in this World Cup, according to Chinese tradition, as a swordsman. Of course, what Westerners had in mind might not be the white-clad swordsman in Chinese martial arts novels, but more likely a Western-style swordsman. However, this title was quickly accepted by fans all over the world, especially Chinese fans.

So far, he had scored five goals in four games, averaging more than one goal per game, which was a remarkable scoring rate. No matter how hard his opponents racked their brains to defend him, he could always find a chance to shoot and always score. Except for the game against Mexico, where he didn't score due to a lack of luck, he scored in every other game, which was a remarkable achievement in the history of the World Cup in recent years.

It should be known that the World Cup had been held eighteen times, and only Alberto, the captain of the Brazilian team in the 1970 World Cup, had a record of scoring in every game in a single World Cup. This record had yet to be broken.

If the Chinese player most likely to score in this game was Zhang Jun, probably no one would disagree. Everyone had seen how good Zhang Jun's form was this season. What was even more commendable was that his good form hadn't been affected by playing too many games and had been consistently maintained in the World Cup, where he was attacking and breaking through for the Chinese team, invincible and always victorious.

Because England chose their red jerseys for this game, the Chinese team wore their away jerseys for the first time in this World Cup, with a white base and red and gold stripes. This outfit really made Zhang Jun, wearing the number 11 jersey, look like a "white-clad swordsman."

Now this "white-clad swordsman" was working hard to find a chance to draw his sword. He wasn't an ordinary person; his sword couldn't be drawn casually, but once it was unsheathed, it would surely draw blood and surely kill someone. An efficient killer, Zhang Jun was still implementing his philosophy.

Ke Lu was controlling the ball in midfield, surrounded by two masters, Lampard and Gerrard. The English team attached great importance to Ke Lu, as could be seen from how many English players came up to defend him every time he got the ball.

Gerrard kicked him in the back, and Ke Lu staggered but didn't fall. The ball was still under his control. Lampard followed up with a charge. Don't think they were greeting each other so friendly off the field; they were more ferocious than anyone on the field.

Ke Lu was just worried that he couldn't get away quickly when he saw Lampard bump into him. He had an idea in his mind. With Lampard's bump, his body rushed out, and at the same time, he hooked the ball away with his foot. Lampard didn't knock Ke Lu down, but instead helped Ke Lu.

"Ke Lu is the star of this game. He alone has attracted the attention of the entire English midfield, making Yang Pan, Li Yongle, and others pale in comparison! His dribbling is superb, and his ball control is as if glue has been applied to his shoes. Neither Lampard nor Gerrard could break him down!" The commentator was obviously a Ke Lu fan, and he dedicated all the praise to Ke Lu.

"But... no matter how beautiful the dribbling is, what's the use if it can't get the team to score? The Chinese team's current situation isn't very good. Now their offensive is like a tide. If they don't equalize at this time, and the English team gets a chance to breathe during the half-time break, their own momentum will decline, and the game will be even more difficult to play," the commentary guest said, with a view opposite to that of the commentator.

"Yes, what you said makes sense. There are less than ten minutes left in the first half. Let's take a look at the Chinese team's last wave of attacks."

※※※

Li Yongle controlled the rhythm a little. The Chinese attack had been too fierce just now, seeming chaotic and without any plan. This wouldn't work; they had to stabilize the situation.

He passed the ball back to the center back, and after Liu Peng received the ball, he passed it horizontally to Li Suisheng. At this time, Li Yongle shouted loudly, directing the defense to pass the ball. Li Suisheng passed the ball to Xiang Tao on the left.

Some English fans booed in a provocative manner. The Chinese team turned a deaf ear and continued to pass the ball in the backcourt.

Xiang Tao passed the ball to Wang Yu, and Wang Yu passed it back to Li Yongle. After the ball went around a circle, it returned to the starting point.

This time, Li Yongle didn't pass the ball anymore. After this circle of passing, the Chinese players' mentality had stabilized, and the formation wasn't as chaotic as it had been just now. Although the opponent's defense had already taken its position, this wasn't important, because that was what they were supposed to do.

Since it was a positional battle, then they had to look like a positional battle. Simply launching surprise attacks wasn't a long-term solution. A steady and solid approach, patiently searching for opportunities, and delivering a key blow was the effect that Li Yongle wanted.

He was the brain of the Chinese team. Others couldn't consider these things, but he had to think about them and think them through.

Just as the English fans were constantly booing the Chinese players and mocking them, Li Yongle suddenly made a long pass, sending the ball directly to the front.

Yang Pan received the ball and passed it to Ke Lu, who came up to meet him. The two crossed paths, with Yang Pan running towards the center and Ke Lu running towards the right flank.

Ke Lu was dribbling towards the flank. Similarly, Gerrard and Ashley Cole pressed up. Having learned a lesson from being broken through by Ke Lu as soon as he came up, Ashley Cole didn't dare to be careless anymore. He didn't refuse Gerrard's help, because in his opinion, the current Ke Lu might not be able to be stopped by the two of them. This person was no longer the impulsive kid who fought with Vieira in his first Premier League game.

Ke Lu started doing the bicycle kick, but this time it was different from the traditional bicycle kick.

He first pulled the ball to the right with his right foot, and then his right foot swiped over the ball. Ashley Cole and Gerrard were unmoved, knowing that this must be a feint.

Sure enough, Ke Lu pulled the ball back with his left foot, and his left foot also made a circle over the ball.

These feints seemed meaningless, and the two people defending him didn't know what Ke Lu was planning. Was delaying time beneficial to the Chinese team's attack? Judging from the first half of the game, the Chinese team's attack emphasized one word: fast. Fast passing, fast breakthroughs, fast shooting. Ke Lu was even making feints very quickly. Now, suddenly slowing down, what was he doing?

Just as the two were unable to figure it out, Ke Lu suddenly passed the ball!

He didn't have a run-up, without any warning, suddenly he lifted his foot and crossed from the spot!

Near the sideline, without a run-up, crossing from the spot was almost impossible to do well. Was it a hasty kick?

Soon people discovered Ke Lu's intention – he had relied on his reputation and feints on the flank to firmly attract the attention of two English defenders, and then, while all the attention was on him, he gave Zhang Jun time to insert into the penalty area. The ball was passed to Zhang Jun!

"Watch him! Keep him outside!" Robinson shouted. He had made all the preparations. No matter what, he couldn't let the Chinese team score this goal. The first half was about to end. If only England could get fifteen minutes to catch their breath...

Terry watched Zhang Jun rush over and reached out to hold him tightly.

At this time, Zhang Jun realized that he was running a little too fast... He had overshot...

Damn it! When Zhang Jun turned to retreat, he realized that his jersey was firmly held in Terry's hand, and he couldn't go back at all!

At this time, as long as he shouted and then fell to the ground, a penalty would be a sure thing, right? This thought flashed through Zhang Jun's mind.

But looking back at the ball flying towards him in the air, Zhang Jun was unwilling to fall down like this. A penalty... What kind of skill was it for a striker to score with a penalty?

Thinking like this, Zhang Jun turned sharply and rushed outwards, seemingly desperate to get the ball.

Terry felt the pressure coming from his hand, and naturally he wouldn't give up so easily. Strikers and defenders were always such mortal enemies.

Zhang Jun tried desperately to break free from Terry's control, while Terry tried his best not to let Zhang Jun get his way. In the end, Terry suddenly exploded, using force in his hands to pull Zhang Jun back, and even pull him to the ground!

Seeing that he was about to lose his balance, Zhang Jun simply gave up trying to break free from Terry and instead decided to use the situation to his advantage.

He suddenly leaned back, at the same time, his body took off, his left foot raised upwards, and then quickly pressed down, and his right foot followed up, hitting the flying ball!

Bicycle kick!

……

Zhao Ke wore a hood of patterned silk, Wu Gou (a famous sword) was as bright as frost and snow;

A silver saddle shone on a white horse, swift as a shooting star.

Kill one man in ten steps, leave no trace for a thousand miles;

After it's done, brush off the clothes and hide the body and the name.

……

In the enemy's formation, the white-clad swordsman flashed, his long sword was unsheathed, and in an instant, it was chilling and murderous, after a flash of white light, he sheathed the sword.

Terry did see a flash of white light – that was the afterimage of the silver-white football passing before his eyes...

"Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooal!!!"

Robinson stood in place, turning his head to stare blankly at the football that had just fallen from the net, while Terry lost his footing and fell down directly with Zhang Jun.

Zhang Jun climbed up from Terry and ran excitedly to Ke Lu on the flank, who had assisted him.

Who would have thought that Zhang Jun would actually use a bicycle kick to shoot? And he scored...

"The ball went in!!! The Chinese team equalized the score at the end of the first half! Bicycle kick! Too beautiful! Zhang Jun scored his sixth goal in this World Cup! He is now far ahead in the scorer list! Adriano's goal count in second place is still three, no change. England's lead has vanished! Facing the combination of Zhang Jun and Ke Lu, you simply can't defend it, Englishmen!"

This time, the Chinese fans in the stands seemed to be commanded, shouting in unison: "Who can resist us between heaven and earth?! Who can resist us?!" The Englishmen who had been booing the Chinese players just now were all silent at this time.

They weren't asking the Englishmen; in fact, they weren't asking anyone, just expressing their confidence. What the Italians couldn't do, you Englishmen can't do either! Want to stop us from moving forward?

Bring it on.

※※※

"Oh shit!" O'Neill angrily slammed the tactical board in his hand on the sunshade of the coach's seat. He had been thinking in his mind about how to adjust during the half-time break to allow England to continue to maintain this rhythm in the second half. He didn't expect that the Chinese team would equalize the score just before the end of the first half.

On the other side, after seeing Zhang Jun score, Qiu Suhui jumped up from his seat and hugged Hu Li next to him like a child.

The bench was even more boiling.

"When Ke Lu and Zhang Jun were in Florence, the combination of the two made the Italian defenders tremble with fear. Now this combination has been moved to the World Cup, to the Chinese team, and it is still full of power. Ke Lu attracted the attention of Ashley Cole and Gerrard on the flank, emptying England's central defense and giving Zhang Jun a chance to insert from behind. At the same time, Zhang Jun also gained the upper hand in his personal confrontation with Terry, and he humiliated Terry with a bicycle kick!"

The commentator commented on the goal just now for the fans, Zhang Jun and Ke Lu were the key figures.

After celebrating the goal with his teammates, Zhang Jun bowed his head and kissed the national flag on his chest in front of the fans, and then patted the national flag. His actions once again made the Chinese fans cheer, and people cheered his name. Chinese is not a language that any foreigner can understand, but "zhangjun" is a universal language, and fans on Earth can understand it, and understand the meaning behind this name.

There were also many neutral fans who shouted this name along with the Chinese fans, because Zhang Jun's goal just now was so beautiful that it made them supporters of the Chinese team at that moment.

※※※

Just as the TV was repeatedly showing the replay of Zhang Jun's bicycle kick, the referee blew the whistle to end the first half. The first half ended with both sides averaging 1:1.

Judging from the situation off the field, the English players were somewhat frustrated. After all, they had finally taken the lead, but they were brought back by the opponent just before the end of the first half. Anyone would feel uncomfortable. The referee just happened not to give them a chance to vent, rushing to blow the whistle to end the game, making them feel like they had nowhere to use their strength.

However, the coach would definitely have some action during the half-time break. They firmly believed that relying on England's strength and reputation, the team that would eventually advance must be England.

On the other hand, although the Chinese team had taken the lead in the first half, they only equalized the score at the last moment, but they were all satisfied with the result. And more importantly, the goal scored by Zhang Jun was very beautiful, that was a bicycle kick that could greatly damage the opponent's morale!

This goal also greatly boosted the Chinese team's morale. They all believed that the team that was adjusted during the half-time break would definitely be able to defeat England in the end.

The two teams left the field with their own different moods, and the game entered the half-time break.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the first half is over. I think if the game continues for another ten minutes, the Chinese team might be able to score another goal, because their morale is high and they can play any kind of game. This half-time break is indeed very important for the English team, winning them a valuable chance to catch their breath. What changes will happen in the second half, let's wait and see!"

※※※

Contrary to the joy of celebrating the goal just now, Qiu Suhui now looked at the players with a serious face.

"Don't be happy because you equalized the score. England is a strong team, and they will definitely have more actions in the second half. So just equalizing the score can't make us sit back and relax. Their defense is too dense. To be honest, there was an element of luck in the goal we scored. Look at the statistics, we only scored one goal with eleven shots in the first half, while they scored a goal with only four shots. This problem must be improved in the second half. We must improve our shooting accuracy. If we can't score, the Englishmen may use the gaps behind us to launch counterattacks. Therefore, pay attention to your defense in the second half. Wang Yu, you don't need to go up to attack, just stay in the back to defend and keep Rooney firmly marked!"

Wang Yu nodded. He was far less dazzling than Zhang Jun, Ke Lu, and others in the World Cup, but his role was definitely not to be underestimated, because of the Chinese team's two defensive midfielders, Li Yongle focused more on the attack, and the defense mainly relied on Wang Yu. Wang Yu did all the dirty work and hard work. Without someone like him, there would be no glory for Zhang Jun and others in the front.

"The two wingers should pay attention to the rhythm of inserting and assisting. When defending, you are the full-backs, and you must return to defend in time when you need to defend. Be careful of the Englishmen's counterattacks, their long passes are quite threatening."

Yang Pan and Zhao Pengyu also nodded.

"As for the others... continue to maintain this momentum in the second half, stick to the attack, and that's it. The remaining time is up to you."

After saying this, the atmosphere in the dressing room suddenly became active.

Of course, they were all congratulating Zhang Jun on scoring. Now Zhang Jun was the most promising player among all the participants to win the World Cup Golden Shoe. Every goal he scored meant he was one step closer to his dream.

Zhang Jun himself was also very happy. Since the Spring Festival this year, his condition had been very good, and more importantly, he had not been troubled by injuries at critical moments like some players. Many talented players did not perform well in the World Cup because of injuries.

At this time, in addition to thanking his teammates for their support, there was one more person he wanted to thank, and that was his dead father. When he burned incense to his father during the Spring Festival, he asked his father to bless him not to be injured before completing his dream. Sure enough, his fragile left leg had not brought him any trouble. On the contrary, he was as strong as an ox.

Do you think there are gods in this world? Zhang Jun definitely did not believe in these things. But there was indeed something very magical in this world that affected every corner of our lives.

That was faith.

※※※

In the English team's dressing room, the atmosphere was slightly solemn. No one wanted to let their opponents equalize at the last moment.

O'Neill had not recovered from the bicycle kick, and after a while, looking at the silent players, he decided to say something.

"Actually, this is nothing. We have only returned to the beginning of the game. We could score a goal before, so we can definitely do it again in the second half." Looking at the players staring at him one by one, he put his hands on the table and leaned forward, "You don't need to put on a frustrated expression. The Chinese team is indeed very strong, but we are England. Show your momentum, defeat them, and send them back to China!"

Afterward, he made some adjustments based on the situation in the first half. Because the score was the same again, the tactics of only defending in the second half of the first half could no longer be used. The team needed to actively counterattack while consolidating the defense.

In the second half of the first half, because the Chinese team's offensive was too fierce, Owen, Rooney, and others had to retreat to defend, and they did not play the role they should have played at all.

Now that the score had been equalized, maybe they were happy, because they finally had a place to play again. Fast counterattack was the favorite offensive method of speed-type forwards.

※※※

During the half-time break, many photographers guarding the sidelines were no longer holding their cameras and staring at the field. They either asked their friends to buy some fast food and coffee to fill their stomachs, or gathered together in groups of three or five to chat.

The Chinese photographers naturally gathered together. Chinese people like to gather in groups.

A few years ago, there were almost no Chinese photographers at this kind of world-class competition. The photos used by the Chinese media were all bought from foreign media. Later, with the rise of Chinese football and the appearance of more and more Chinese players on the world stage, our photographers also went abroad and became regular visitors to international competitions.

Perhaps because she was also a photographer, Sophie felt that most of the Chinese photographers were good people, much better than those reporters, although there would be paparazzi who secretly took pictures of her dating Zhang Jun. At least the authenticity of the pictures of the photojournalists could be examined, which was far more credible than the fabricated stories of the reporters.

Sophie's identity was no longer news in the circle, and everyone had accepted the fact that the beautiful and moving photographer Sophie was Zhang Jun's fiancée. And now the outside world was spreading rumors that Zhang Jun was going to marry Sophie after the World Cup.

Based on the principle of attraction between the sexes, many Chinese colleagues surrounded Sophie during the half-time break. It was also a good leisure time to chat with warm water bottles in their arms. Moreover, with the beauty around, the dull men were now witty.

"Sophie, I heard that you and Zhang Jun are getting married after the World Cup, is it true?" Someone asked.

"Yes." Sophie brushed away the hair blocking her eyes. Everyone knew about this, and she didn't need to hide anything.

"Then congratulations, do you want me to take your wedding photos? Let me tell you, I'm the no.1 portrait photographer in China!"

"Okay, stop bragging, Lao Li. You're embarrassed to talk about your fake portrait photography?"

"Lao Zhang, we're familiar, but if you say that about me, I can still sue you for defamation. Isn't it you who has fake portraits?"

Looking at the two old men in their forties insulting each other, Sophie found it quite interesting. She covered her mouth and smiled. "Thank you, uncles, we have a photographer." She still remembered what Chen Huafeng said to them a long, long time ago, when she and Zhang Jun were still high school students: In the future, when you get married, I will take your wedding photos.

Therefore, this position was reserved for Chen Huafeng.

Hearing Sophie call them "uncles", those old men who never admitted that they were old all cried...

"Hey, you are so happy, think about my old woman..." Lao Li sighed aside.

"Okay, this is other people's privacy, don't ask one by one. Let's talk about the game. After this game, what feelings are you going to write about, Sophie? I am a loyal reader of your column... Why didn't our magazine dig you up?" The person who spoke the last sentence complained in a low voice.

Sophie smiled: "Hehe, I haven't thought about it yet. I have to wait until all the games are over to know what to write. Although we equalized the score, there are still forty-five minutes in the second half, and there are many variables. Of course, from the bottom of my heart, I still hope that the Chinese team will win. Don't you think so?"

"Of course! Of course! Chinese people definitely support Chinese football!" A group of men nodded desperately, fearing that if they nodded too slowly, they would not be able to fully express the firm belief in their hearts.

The oldest photographer in the crowd, already with gray hair, squeezed in from behind the crowd. Everyone present knew him, and Sophie knew him too. He was the pioneer of Chinese sports photojournalists – Rong Yunsheng. He had gone to many international competitions to take photos at his own expense, and his photos were liked by many foreign sports stars and officials. In 2010, he was already seventy years old, but he still insisted on coming to the scene to take photos.

In his own words, it was a big event for the Chinese team to appear on the World Cup stage. He had been engaged in sports photography all his life, and he could not miss this opportunity no matter what. He had missed the opportunity to go to Germany four years ago because of a heart attack, which had made him very regretful. Fortunately, the young men in China were competitive, and they entered the World Cup finals again four years later. He was able to fulfill his wish.

He was an old senior that everyone present had to respect. They all put away their laughter and quietly looked at the old man.

Unexpectedly, Rong Lao didn't say anything, took off the hat on his head, and gave Sophie a good bow!

Everyone was stunned.

Sophie was also very surprised, but she reacted quickly and quickly got up to hold Rong Yunsheng with both hands: "Rong Lao! What are you doing?"

Some people next to him also came up to help him. "Yes, Rong Lao, you are..."

"Don't help me, I can stand firm. I just want to give this girl a good bow." Rong Yunsheng was very strong, and didn't look like a seventy-year-old who had had a heart attack.

"But... why did you bow to me?" Sophie felt that this gift was too big, how could she be worthy of this bow? "Rong Lao, you are the old senior and teacher I respect. I can't accept it no matter what."

Seeing that Sophie's tone was a little unhappy, Rong Yunsheng quickly explained with a smile: "Don't worry, don't worry. Listen to me. You all know that I am a sports photography enthusiast." He always referred to himself as a "sports photography enthusiast", because he had not undergone systematic training, but was self-taught. Although he later won many honorary titles such as a member of the Chinese Photographers Association, he still represented those "photography enthusiasts" who came out of the grassroots. "I have dedicated almost my whole life to the camera in my hand, but you may not know it? I am a standard fan, a staunch Chinese fan."

The others were surprised. This was the first time they had heard of it. Rong Lao had never mentioned it before.

"In 1994, when the Chinese professional league was established, I took a lot of photos of the professional league." Some people with good memory remembered that the Football Association had published a book to commemorate the tenth anniversary of professional football, and the author's name under many photos was indeed "Rong Yunsheng".

"Chinese football is not competitive, and I, like those fans, don't know how many tears I have shed." Rong Yunsheng pointed his withered hand to the red color on the stand. "But, now we also have a team that we can be proud of. In 2002, some people said that we were lucky to enter the World Cup. Now we are in South Africa, and no one says that we are lucky. As a Chinese fan, I can hold my head high when chatting with those foreigners and say that I am a fan of the Chinese team. And not only that, there are also many foreigners who are fans of our team. These things were never seen in the early years, not only could they not be seen, but they didn't even dare to think about it!" The old man's tone gradually became excited, while the others were silent.

"This girl is Zhang Jun's fiancée, and I also know that you have a good relationship with many people on the national team. I, an old man, don't have the opportunity to thank those good young men in person, so I can only bow to you and thank you. You have a good husband, and we fans have a good player, no, a group of good players!" Rong Lao gave a thumbs up to the stunned Sophie.

"I took a picture of that goal, and it will definitely be one of my most satisfactory works in my life."

Due to the special nature of their work, not everyone can jump up and cheer when their favorite team scores a goal. At this time, their love for football and their love for the team and players are all injected into the film along with the fingers that press the shutter. When a picture after picture of exciting photos appears in front of the readers, that is the soul of the photographer.

In Rong Lao's photos, those who are attentive will definitely feel a strong sense of pride, that is the lifelong pride of an old fan.

Sophie also bowed respectfully to Rong Yunsheng: "I also want to thank Rong Lao. Today you let me understand what real sports photography is!"