Chapter 171 - 164: Shoot

As time ticked by, the match remained at a stalemate.

Both Porto and Ajax were starting to realize that the ninety minutes of regulation time would likely end in a zero-zero draw. The coaching staff on both sides began preparing their strategies for extra time.

Ajax had one substitution left, while Porto had two. When they saw McCarthy jogging out to warm up, the Ajax coaching staff knew Porto was about to make a change. In all likelihood, Delray would be the one coming off.

’How should they deal with the Portuguese Super League’s Golden Boot, who had just been subbed on?’

The players on the pitch felt it just as keenly. After battling for an hour and a half, their stamina was nearly gone. The tempo of the match gradually slowed, and even the fans in the stands were growing too hoarse to cheer.

Ajax had possession, but Porto continued to press high up the pitch near the halfway line, making it difficult for the Eredivisie giants to move the ball forward.

The moment Talabesi received the ball, he was immediately pressured by Arenichev. Just as he was about to pass back to one of his defenders, he suddenly saw Yang Yang dropping back from an advanced position, his right hand raised high, demanding the ball. His run created a clear passing lane, away from Arenichev’s press, and Talabesi knew he could make the pass.

The Tunisian right-back didn’t hesitate for a second, immediately playing a low pass straight to Yang Yang’s feet.

Yang Yang trapped the ball and turned, moving as if he already knew he was clear of any defenders.

The moment he turned, Yang Yang immediately charged forward with the ball.

Maniche, the nearest player, was the first to close in, with left-back Valente right behind him.

Without waiting for Maniche to get close, Yang Yang quickly laid the ball off to Sneijder and immediately broke into an all-out sprint forward.

Sneijder had just brought the ball under control when he spotted Yang Yang’s surging run. Sensing Maniche closing in fast, he didn’t hesitate, immediately chipping a pass over the top and into space for Yang Yang to run onto.

...

"Ajax once again launches an attack from the right flank."

"It’s Yang Yang again, driving the play on the wing. He’s in a footrace with Valente!"

"Yang Yang is incredibly fast! He’s caught up with Valente, and now they’re both racing after the ball!"

...

The Ajax fans in the stands were startled by this sudden turn of events, then erupted into a massive roar.

Although Yang Yang had the edge in speed and stamina, Valente had a head start. The Porto player was clearly a tenacious defender, chasing with all his might and even making subtle tugs at Yang Yang’s shirt.

But Yang Yang paid it no mind.

His only thought was to get to that ball.

Without even looking up, he could clearly judge the ball’s trajectory and landing spot through his God’s Vision. After a year of being tempered by competition, he had developed a keen sense of his own speed; he was sure he could get to it.

’But Valente is right beside me. Even if I get to the ball, how am I supposed to trap it?’

’Almost every fan in the world knows my first touch is terrible, and trapping a ball out of the air is even harder for me. Sneijder must have been worried about Maniche, Costinha, or Valente intercepting a ground pass, which is why he went for the lob.’

’So how do I trap it now?’

The question flashed through Yang Yang’s mind. In the next instant, he recalled something he had seen in *Bergkamp’s Ball Control*—the Ice Prince had once trapped a ball just like this one. Yang Yang had practiced it many times.

He hadn’t just practiced it in the Super Training. During his regular extra sessions, Maxwell had also challenged him with similar passes, so he had experience.

In that split second, Yang Yang made his decision. But it was different from Bergkamp’s approach.

The Ice Prince had brought the ball down dead at his feet. But he’d had some distance from his defender and was already inside the penalty area, setting himself up for a direct shot. Yang Yang’s situation was completely different.

Valente was right on top of him. If Yang Yang trapped the ball at his feet, Valente would immediately shut him down.

So he decided to cushion the ball behind him. At least there were no defenders back there, which gave him a larger margin for error.

The whole thought process took only an instant. Yang Yang reacted, judging the ball’s flight path and landing spot. He thrust out his right foot to meet the descending ball, instinctively adjusting the angle of his instep and shin.

Soon, he felt the weight of the ball on his instep. The descending ball connected, changed direction, and looped over his left shoulder, dropping perfectly into the space between him and Valente.

The unexpected move left Valente, who was caught in the middle of it, completely baffled.

’What just happened?’

’How did he trap the ball like that?’

’Wasn’t this kid supposed to have a terrible first touch?’

’I saw it in the video clips. His touch was atrocious. How did he dare to even attempt something like that?’

But Yang Yang gave him no time to process it. After the trap, Yang Yang came to a dead stop and instantly changed direction.

Valente reacted quickly as well, slamming on the brakes. As he pivoted, he reached out to grab Yang Yang, desperate to stop him from reaching the ball at all costs.

But just as his hand reached out, Yang Yang forcefully swung his right arm. WHAP! He slapped Valente’s hand away, knocking his entire arm aside. The defender’s feet suddenly slipped from under him. He lost his balance and tumbled to the grass, forced to watch helplessly as Yang Yang reached the ball, cut inside with his right foot, and stormed into the penalty area.

...

"What a beautiful touch!"

"On the right for Ajax, an absolutely gorgeous piece of control from Yang Yang, and he’s shaken off Valente!"

"Let’s see how he handles it now..."

"He’s facing Jorge Costa... he tries the Pendulum Move again, but can’t get past him! He lays it back to the edge of the area..."

"Ibrahimovic runs onto it and takes the shot!"

"The angle is too direct! Goalkeeper Baia blocks it..."

"The ball hasn’t traveled far, it’s still in the penalty area..."

"Yang Yang..."

...

As the ball rebounded off Baia and flew straight toward him, Yang Yang’s mind went blank.

’It was too sudden!’

He had been certain Ibrahimovic would score. He never expected Baia to make the save, let alone for the rebound to come flying straight at him. In that instant, his mind went completely blank as he instinctively stuck out a foot to trap the ball.

The ball wasn’t hit hard, and Yang Yang brought it under control right in front of him. He felt as if the very air had frozen around him. Everyone’s movements seemed to slow to a crawl.

He could see Jorge Costa turning. The defender had just lunged toward Ibrahimovic; now he was reacting, trying to turn and charge at Yang Yang, but he looked so slow.

Baia, still on the ground, was shouting something, his hands moving sluggishly as he tried to scramble back to his feet.

And Cavaleiro, who had been holding the center, was launching into a slide tackle.

Behind him, Valente was only just scrambling up from the ground. His earlier slip and fall must have been a nasty one.

In the stands, countless fans wore expressions of disbelief. The Ajax supporters were ecstatic; the Porto supporters, horrified. Everyone was stunned by the sudden turn of events.

On the Porto sideline, Mourinho’s face was a mask of fury as he roared what looked like, "Stop him!"

Nearby, Ronald Koeman’s eyes were wide with shock, but the shape of his mouth clearly formed a single, urgent command: "Shoot!"

In that one instant, all of this flooded into Yang Yang’s mind. Then, as if waking from a trance, he snapped back to reality and swung his right foot at the ball before him.

Jorge Costa spun around, Cavaleiro slid in, Baia scrambled to his feet...

But all they heard was a sharp THWACK as Yang Yang’s right foot connected with the ball. It shot off the turf like a bolt of lightning, rocketing straight into the virtually unguarded net.

The moment his foot struck the ball, Yang Yang was one hundred percent certain: it was a goal.

He had struck that exact shot countless times over the past year, from the skate park in Almere to Ajax’s De Toekomst training ground. He practiced it relentlessly, day after day. The moment he made contact, he could already picture the ball hitting the back of the net.

The shot felt like an extension of his own body. The feeling was so intense that he didn’t need to hear the referee’s whistle; he let out a guttural roar and broke into a dead sprint.

Behind him, the referee, Nelsen, finally blew his whistle to confirm the goal!

It was only then that the entire stadium—the fans, the Ajax players—seemed to snap out of their shock. But Yang Yang was already off the pitch, sprinting all the way to the base of the stands where his parents were seated.

He dropped to his knees, head thrown back and hands raised high to the sky. Tears streamed down his cheeks as silent sobs wracked his body.

He dedicated this goal to his parents, who had brought him into this world, raised him, and supported him. He dedicated it to his uncle, aunt, and cousin, who had taken care of him; to the brothers Wei Zhen and Wei Zheng; to John Reep and everyone in Almere; to Van Gaal, Van Basten, and everyone at Ajax. And he dedicated it to every single fan who had ever supported him...

The Ajax players went wild!

The players on the pitch, the substitutes on the bench, even head coach Ronald Koeman and his entire staff—all of them sprinted wildly toward Yang Yang, roaring as they swarmed him, burying him in a massive group hug.

No one had expected it. No one could have possibly imagined it. It was Yang Yang who had scored!

But this late in the match, it didn’t matter who scored. It wasn’t important. All that mattered was that Ajax had scored. That was enough!

...

...

In the stands, countless Ajax fans were crying tears of joy.

Watching Yang Yang kneeling below, his face streaked with tears, Shen Lifang and Shen Yuzhu couldn’t help but cry out. Even Yang Yongqiang, Shen Ming, and the Wei Zheng brothers found their eyes welling up. The moment was too moving, too powerful.

Even Xiaoyezi, a delicate young woman who didn’t know Yang Yang at all and understood nothing about football, found herself dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, completely swept up in the emotion.

This was the Champions League Final!

This was the raw, emotional power of football!