Chapter 112

In the locker room, Escrivá emphasized several points regarding today’s match.

The core point was simply to play according to the tactics—today’s opponent, like Villarreal, also comes from La Liga, and the two sides are old rivals.

Escrivá told the players he had already contacted Leganés’s head coach; both teams would give their all in this match.

This is not an important pre-match warm-up!

“Come on!”

Escrivá pulled Tang Ye up from the bench; the latter was still in a dazed state.

Just before the last match ended, Escrivá had specifically warned him about on-field discipline, and now he was being started today.

“Tang, are you under a lot of pressure right now?”

Escrivá smiled at Tang Ye, who stood there with his laces still untied: “Huh? Why haven’t you tied your laces?”

Tang Ye pointed to the timer hanging by the locker room door: “There’s still five minutes until kickoff—no rush, right?”

“You don’t seem stressed at all?”

Escrivá sized Tang Ye up and down.

Right now, Tang Ye didn’t look like a 17-year-old youngster at all.

He might as well be a 37-year-old superstar who’s experienced every major tournament?

Hearing his coach say that, Tang Ye crouched down, tied his laces, then stood back up: “Mr. Ferran, I’m under a lot of pressure right now.”

“...Alright, alright, get ready to go out, get ready to go out.”

“Kickoff! Today, Huang Qian’s opponent is Leganés—a team considered pretty weak in La Liga, but even the weakest La Liga side can’t be that bad.”

“A lot of people doubt whether Tang the King can play in La Liga—after today’s match, you’ll see whether Tang the King can play in La Liga.”

Tang Ye had too many haters; as his most loyal fan, streamer Wang Chao had to speak up for his idol now.

One goal and one assist against Porto couldn’t prove Tang Ye had the ability to play in La Liga—surely this match between two La Liga teams could prove something?

Thud!

Thud!

The sound of instep strikes echoed constantly on the pitch as both La Liga teams displayed their excellent passing and control.

Tang Ye struggled to keep up.

Although he had little role in this passing system, if he paid attention and moved intelligently, Tang Ye could still follow some of the rhythm.

By the 20th minute, Huang Qian led with 62% possession.

“Good! That’s it!”

Escrivá gave a thumbs-up to the pitch.

With the team’s current form, securing a top-six finish this season shouldn’t be a problem!

Whether they can overtake Atlético to claim third place depends on a bit of luck!

Their passing game was steady, and since both teams knew each other well, their defense was also solid.

At the 30th minute, the score was still 0-0.

Someone needed to break this balance.

And that man was Leganés’s striker, Guerrero.

“Guerrero, move to the right baseline!”

“Shoot directly!!”

“Goal!”

“Damn! The home team takes the lead!”

Wang Chao clutched his head with both hands.

Was it really the weaker Leganés who scored first?

What the hell was going on?

The director showed a slow-motion replay.

It wasn’t that Guerrero shot well—it was a fatal passing error by Huang Qian’s defender Álvaro González.

He passed the ball straight into Guerrero’s feet!

“It’s fine, it’s fine!”

Captain Bruno comforted the players.

Escrivá’s expression wasn’t good—this kind of mistake might be acceptable in a friendly, but in an official La Liga match, Villarreal could lose three points because of González’s error!

Falling behind was painful; Escrivá quickly instructed the players to adjust their rhythm.

Half-time ended with Huang Qian trailing by one goal.

“Stay focused! You need to stay focused!”

In the locker room, head coach Escrivá was in a bad mood: “Our opponent is clearly weaker, yet they still managed to capitalize on our mistakes. Why? Because they’re fully focused. You need to understand your role—we’re a professional team, a professional team! You can’t zone out!”

In the locker room, head coach Escrivà was in a foul mood: “Our opponent is clearly the weaker side, yet they keep capitalizing on our mistakes. Why? Because their focus is razor-sharp. You need to understand your roles—we’re a professional team, a professional team! We can’t afford to lose concentration!”

From Tang Ye’s perspective, he had found the first half excruciating.

Not only was the team losing, but he himself was utterly exhausted.

He was already regretting it!

If he’d known, he’d have stayed in the Eredivisie for a few more seasons before coming to La Liga!

The second half began; both teams, per their coaches’ agreement, made no major substitutions.

Escrivá brought Ale on as center forward—a tactical adjustment based on the match situation.

Everyone said to treat this friendly like a real league match—then they had to give their all!

Everyone says to treat this friendly as if it were a league match—then you must give your full strength!

Ale ran up to Tang Ye and handed him a note.

Alé, who had just come on, ran up and handed Tang Ye a note.

Escrivá was completely stunned.

He didn’t give Ale any note!

Tang Ye opened the note—it read in Dutch: “Pass to me.”

Clearly written by Ale himself; Tang Ye immediately understood.

Ale wanted him to pass to him like he did in Utrecht!

Alé wants me to pass to him the way I did when we were at Utrecht!

Tang Ye gave a thumbs-up.

He was damn tired of this passing game!

“Huang Qian brought on Ale—I swear, I feel the away team’s about to explode.”

“The Eredivisie’s top scorer and top assist provider are both on the pitch—let’s see how Huang Qian will operate.”

“Here it comes! Just like the last friendly, Huang Qian suddenly abandoned their passing game!”

“Their style is becoming more aggressive—their possession rate is dropping!”

“Their play is becoming more aggressive, and their possession rate is dropping!”

“Tang Ye, send it straight into the box—a 45-degree cross!”

“Ale, head it!”

“Did he get it?”

“Damn! So close!”

Ale’s header clipped the post and flew out.

What a pity!

Extremely unfortunate!

Villarreal missed their best chance of the match so far!

Villarreal failed to capitalize on their best opportunity of the match so far!

After watching for a few minutes, Escrivá’s patience was about to snap—the team’s overall tone had shifted.

Tang Ye’s playing style clashed completely with Villarreal’s and with La Liga’s norms!

Tang Ye’s style on the pitch clashes completely with Villarreal’s and with La Liga as a whole!

Escrivá threw his hands up, then slumped back into his substitute bench chair.

He wanted to substitute Tang Ye, but the bench had no usable players left.

On the pitch, at the 72nd minute, Villarreal won a free kick on the left flank.

Captain Bruno prepared to take it—when Tang Ye walked over.

“Can we do this together? Can you cover for me?”

“Can we link up on this? Can you cover for me?”

Bruno knew Tang Ye had good free-kick crossing ability, so he readily agreed.

Besides, he was left-footed, so they could stand apart.

But Tang Ye was strange—he stood behind Bruno.

Since getting Zhou Botong’s template, he’d only used it for dribbling and outside-of-the-foot shots—he’d never tried a left-footed free kick!

He wanted to give it a shot!

He wanted to try!

Bruno glanced at Tang Ye behind him, assuming the kid had some special run-up pattern to ensure his right foot struck the ball, so he didn’t ask further.

“Villarreal’s free kick opportunity—Captain Bruno and Tang Ye stand one in front of the other!”

Beep!

The referee blows the whistle—Bruno sprints forward first!

He misses the ball!

Tang Ye!

Run up from behind and strike with your left foot!

Escrivá: ?

That’s the [Ward-Prowse Free Kick Template]—a standard topspin cross!

But it’s slightly different from Tang Ye’s previous kicks.

This time, he used his left foot!

The ball flies over the defenders in the box and lands precisely at Alem’s head.

Perfect positioning!

Head it!

“Goal!”

“Goal!”

“Alem scores!”

“Holy shit, King Tang, free kick assist—perfect!”

Wang Chao shouts excitedly; the director cuts to a replay.

The live director, clearly a regular football viewer, zoomed in specifically when Tang Ye touched the ball.

Tang Ye’s left foot struck the ball.

“Huh? Is this a mirror image?”

“Wait, what the hell is going on?”

Wang Chao squinted, leaning his head close to the computer screen.

At first glance, it looked like a mirror image.

But on second glance, it didn’t seem like one?

【My King Tang is a right-footer—what’s this left-foot free kick?】

【Obviously the director turned on the mirror—don’t know why, but that pass was dead accurate】

【Didn’t Tang Ye also use his left foot to pass last match? Wasn’t that outside-of-the-foot with the left?】

【Was that a mirror too?】

What mirror? He moved from the right flank to the center—that curve is unmistakably from a left-foot outside-of-the-foot strike. Haven’t you watched the video?

【My King Tang actually trained his left-foot outside-of-the-foot and free kicks? Nice—very disciplined.】

“What the hell, is this real? Left foot? That can’t be right.”

Wang Chao argued intensely with fans in the livestream for a long time, but eventually accepted the truth.

Tang Ye really did strike the free kick with his left foot!

Left foot—aside from a slight difference in curve, the landing point, speed, and spin were nearly identical.

If Wang Chao hadn’t watched Tang Ye’s matches regularly, he might have thought Tang Ye was equally skilled with both feet.

“Hah!”

Tang Ye stood in place and twisted his waist a few times.

Honestly, Zhou Botong’s Left-Right Combat technique really felt comfortable.

Even though he used his left foot, Tang Ye didn’t feel like he was kicking with his non-dominant foot at all!

Wait a second?

Tang Ye suddenly noticed a serious problem.

He looked down at his feet.

Which side was left again…

On the bench, head coach Escrivá turned to his assistant coach Ma Di.

He asked a very serious question: which foot was Tang Ye’s dominant one?

“Right foot!”

Ma Di answered quickly.

“Are you sure? Why would a right-footed player use his left foot for free kicks? He used his left foot for that cross last match too—don’t you remember?”

“Ferran, you’re making me doubt myself…”

Ma Di scratched his head, checked his phone for the registration data he’d filed for Tang Ye, then gave his final answer.

“It’s definitely the right foot.”

“This…”

Escrivá stared at him: “So he’s a right-footed player, but can use his left foot for free kicks—and even for outside-of-the-foot crosses?”

As he spoke, Escrivá’s lips slowly curled upward: “We rented a non-dominant-footed midfielder for three million euros?”

“By the way, does he have a buyout clause?”

Escrivá leaned his head toward Ma Di, who checked his phone.

“No buyout clause, Ferran—you were there when the contract was signed. Utrecht refused to include one.”

Escrivá stopped smiling.

…

(End of Chapter)