Chapter 778: The Tense Match and the Referee's Disputed Call

Bang bang!

Bang bang bang!

Facing the chance before them, the Saudi fans in the stands were visibly worked up — some even flung the green jerseys they had in their hands.

"A bit to the left, to the left!"

Yan Yan Junling directed his teammates in setting up the wall.

The pressure was now on China's side.

Tang Ye glanced toward where the players were, then jogged over beside Yan Yan Junling: "Careful — they might go straight for goal. Keep an eye on the left."

Yan Yan Junling looked at Kanu, who was preparing to take the free kick, and raised his right thumb.

"Beep——!!!"

Ready!

Kanu began his run-up!

Smack!

A free kick sent flying, aimed at the top-right dead corner of the goal!

!!!

Al-Shehri lifted his right leg, ready to stretch for a desperate deflection.

In the end, Al-Shehri didn't get to the ball, and neither did Yan Yan Junling.

Most fans thought the ball was going to go directly out of bounds, but no one expected it to graze the post and stay in play inside the frame.

Goal!

"Damn!"

Eskrilava punched the air twice in front of the bench, his whole face flushing red.

"Foul! Foul!"

He went to the fourth official to protest, but the fourth official on site insisted Saudi hadn't committed an attacking foul and refused to give Eskrilava the time of day.

What a load of crap!

"That was a defensive mistake by China in their own back third…"

"Ssh — at this rate the score is 1:0, and China are now a goal down."

The Chinese players stood rooted near the box as if serving a penalty, while the Saudi players ran toward the stands to soak up the cheers from the fans.

Shwa-shwa-shwa!

Four Saudi players dropped to their knees in a sliding celebration together — a truly spectacular sight.

The broadcast immediately cut to the replay.

Let's take a closer look.

Mm, Saudi really didn't show any sign of an attacking foul.

Saudi's combination play broke down, and China's defending had its flaws too — under the chain effect of both factors, the ball ended up in the net.

Damn it — sucker-punched by the other side!

"It's fine, it's fine."

Wu Lei and Zhang Zhang Yuning were consoling Yan Yan Junling, while Tang Ye stood on the spot, thinking.

Everyone said Saudi were in great form, but judging by what Tang Ye felt on the pitch, the Saudi players weren't actually so strong they couldn't be contested — you could even say they were a bit sloppy.

The problem was, Tang Ye was only one of China's eleven players; what he felt couldn't stand for the whole team's experience!

"We've been scouted."

Tang Ye said to Wu Xi, his expression a little grim.

"Then what do we do…"

"Just feed me the ball more."

Tang Ye shook his head.

To be honest, he was out of ideas too — at this point, if he didn't show off, it wasn't going to work.

18th minute of the first half.

Saudi grew bolder and bolder as they played, and soon they pounced on another Chinese mistake in the front third, launching a rapid counter from it.

A big clearance from Al-Sharhili!

The ball was sent straight forward to Faraj, who was in open space.

Wu Xi tried to chase, but it looked like he wasn't quite going to make it!

Faraj pushed forward!

Smack!

A small-arc pass was played out, but Wu Lei — no, Wang Wang Shenchao — got a foot in and broke it up.

"Beautiful! Wang Wang Shenchao!"

The commentator shouted it out directly.

Wu Xi didn't waste his teammate's effort either — he let the ball run precisely behind himself, then turned and took it under control.

"Tom! Tom!"

Eskrilava's voice came from the side, and Wu Xi didn't dare dawdle — he played the ball forward first to Wei Wei Shihao.

Wei Wei Shihao looked toward the middle.

He was looking for Tang Ye too!

Tang Ye didn't ask for the ball; instead he raised his left hand and pointed toward the byline, signaling Wei Wei Shihao to take it on himself first.

"Wei Wei Shihao is driving forward — his pace is still pretty decent…"

"See if you can pass it to Zhang Zhang Yuning!"

The commentator's prediction failed, because Wei Wei Shihao passed the ball to Wu Lei, who had surged up the right flank.

Wu Lei glanced back at Tang Ye.

Based on nearly five years of playing together, Wu Lei already had a pretty good idea of what Tang Ye wanted to do.

He trapped the ball in place, then sprinted forward.

Tang Ye steps up!

Boom!

"Wow!!!"

A tomahawk chop of an elevator on his very first touch — you could say Tang Ye's imagination is a little too vivid.

But!

The ball went in!

Ochoa at the goal line turned his head to look back as the ball slammed into the net and stretched the mesh.

"1:1!"

"Tang Ye!"

"Oh! That long-range strike from Tang Ye to break the deadlock couldn't have come at a better time!"

The commentator and the fans all let out a huge sigh of relief.

When they were down 0:1 everyone was still on edge, but thankfully Tang Ye can always step up when it matters most.

This was indeed very timely, because Tang Ye's thunderous long-range strike basically brought the whole Chinese team's fighting spirit back.

A long-range goal beats a botched free kick, so the Chinese players' current match morale will also surpass the Saudi players'!

"Awesome!"

Wu Lei leapt onto Tang Ye.

The link-up between China's current number one and number two footballers.

Mm…

Way too strong!

"Tang Ye!"

"Tang Ye!"

"China, you're amazing!"

"…"

One goal brought all the momentum back.

But from the TV footage, Eskriwa didn't seem all that happy at the moment.

The Spanish head coach was chattering away with Marti beside him, but unfortunately the two of them were covering their mouths as they spoke, so there's no way to know exactly what they were saying.

"Terrible."

Not only did he cover his mouth, Eskriwa was also speaking very quietly — only Marti and Luo Lu Guofu behind him could hear.

"We're being completely dominated by them, and we're purely relying on Tom and Lei (Wu Lei)'s individual ability to play football…"

Eskriwa was pessimistic, but this was indeed the dilemma the Chinese team was facing right now, and all Marti could do was offer some verbal comfort.

"…"

Check Dongqiu Di live ticker: Tang Ye was fouled on the edge of the box and went down, but the referee did not award a penalty.

"Beep beep beep!!!"

"Fuck the referee! That was a penalty!"

"Penalty!"

Tang Ye sat on the ground, waiting for his teammates and the referee to sort it out.

In the end, the referee simply refused to give China a penalty.

Wu Lei came over, said nothing, just helped Tang Ye up from the ground. Neither of them spoke, both keeping serious expressions.

The home bias in this match was a little too obvious.

I know Saudi Arabia and Qatar and those teams are the AFC's sugar daddies, but there's no need to go this far, is there?

"Close down the middle!"

The assistant coach relayed Eskriwa's instruction to the players in Chinese: "Close down the middle."

After hearing it, Tang Ye clenched his teeth as well.

Closing down the middle — on the surface it sounds like telling the players to combine play more, but in reality it just means he has to contribute more himself.

This match China needs one or two, even more, players who can go super Super Saiyan to step up.

And for Ferran, the players he can trust are basically just three: Tang Ye, Wu Lei, and Zhang Zhang Yuning — all three of these guys have played under him before.

"…"

"Zhang Zhang Linpeng, a very smart choice!"

"Hey, I'm in no rush!"

"Exactly, what China needs to do right now is slowly find their rhythm — playing too urgently won't help."

No sooner had he finished speaking than Jiang Guangtai just launched a big boot upfield.

Sent out to the right — so obviously it's for Wu Lei.