Chapter 887: Asia

The match is over!

The match is over!

4:3! After 93 minutes of play, China defeated Portugal 4:3, winning their first-ever third-place playoff in team history! This means China becomes the first Asian team ever to win a World Cup bronze medal!

Today!

Let’s congratulate the Chinese team!

The moment the whistle blew, the Chinese substitutes sprinted onto the pitch.

Escrivá finally stood up too.

Vamos!

Vamos!

Thud!

Chinese players rushed out from both sides; Escrivá and Ma Di collided: “We won, we won, haha, vamos!”

We won! Vamos!

“Haha, Feran, calm down, Feran!”

Ma Di, slightly hurt by Escrivá’s embrace, shoved him away hard: “I know, I know we won.”

Vamos!

Before Ma Di could finish speaking, Escrivá shouted again, right into the assistant coach’s ear.

“Okay okay, I got it! But—”

“Next time, can you please not kneel on the pitch? It’s so embarrassing for me!”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Haha, we won!”

Whether because of the noise or not, Escrivá seemed to have completely missed Ma Di’s complaint, and let out another “Vamos!” before finally running off.

“...”

“Fine.”

Ma Di flung his arms out: “Then kneel by yourself—it’s none of my business.”

Seeing Escrivá about to join the players, worried he’d be left out of the celebration, Ma Di sprinted after him: “Hey, wait up! Damn it!”

Dongqi Di top post: 4:3! Wu Lei scores a last-minute rocket to seal the win—China defeats Portugal in the third-place playoff to claim third place at the Qatar World Cup!

[Incredible!]

[6666]

[This is history being made! Honestly, I’ve had a feeling China could beat Portugal for a while.]

[Fun fact: This World Cup, China only lost to France. I wonder if France would’ve won so easily without Dembélé?]

[Medal! Medal! Shut up, haters!]

Chinese players were sprinting across the pitch.

Their running postures were perfectly uniform—all arms fully extended, as if this was the only way to release the emotion of victory.

Feng Xiaoting and Wu Xi were already crying.

These two were veteran players of the Chinese team, and likely playing in their final World Cup.

They seized their one and only chance to win a World Cup medal!

On the other side, Cristiano Ronaldo looked devastated. In the footage, his cheeks were visibly bulging—likely from clenching his teeth tightly. His eyes were red too; though no tears fell, his expression clearly revealed the pain the Portuguese captain was enduring.

Bruno Fernandes stood with hands on hips, staring blankly at the staff setting up the podium in the center of the pitch.

“...”

Tang Ye noticed this and walked toward Bruno Fernandes and Cristiano Ronaldo.

Bruno showed no expression, but Cristiano seemed to notice Tang Ye approaching—he quickly pretended not to see him and turned toward the players’ tunnel.

Fine.

Tang Ye sighed. Cristiano’s competitive drive was absurdly intense; after a loss, he became utterly resistant to everything.

“Bruno.”

Tang Ye embraced Bruno Fernandes.

“Congratulations.”

Bruno patted Tang Ye’s back: “You played well.”

“Thank you.”

“...”

The two stood face to face, suddenly silent.

“...I’m heading back to Carrington. Uh, congratulations to you!”

Bruno and Tang Ye embraced again.

“See you at Carrington!”

This was the only appropriate thing Tang Ye could think of.

[FIFA World Cup Qatar]

[2022]

[Third Place: China]

“Sir.”

Tang Ye embraced Escrivá, then stepped back.

“Huh?”

Escrivá spread his hands; Tang Ye pointed to the steps of the podium: “You first.”

“Haha, okay okay, thanks!”

Escrivá bowed slightly to Tang Ye in jest, then walked toward the podium, with Tang Ye following closely behind.

FIFA President Infantino had already been waiting on the podium, ready to place the medals around the necks of the Chinese players as they ascended.

“China Central Television! Dear viewers, you are now watching the third-place medal ceremony of the 2022 Qatar World Cup. After more than 90 minutes of intense battle, China defeated Portugal.”

“What a truly spectacular match.”

“Yes, China nearly didn’t make it—Portugal didn’t play badly at all.”

“Haha, but we’re the ones standing at the end.”

“Let’s congratulate China!”

[6666]

[666666]

[I have a feeling, guys, Tang the Ball King will appear on next week’s monthly exam—I bet he’ll be on next year’s Gaokao physics paper too, force analysis!]

The screen was flooded with “666” and “Incredible!”—over twenty Chinese players and the coaching staff had all found their positions on the podium.

Wu Lei gripped his medal in one hand and shouted Tang Ye’s name.

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

“Damn it, don’t zone out now! Say ‘3, 2, 1!’”

“Oh right, haha. I got it!”

Tang Ye shook himself, then stood in the center of the front row with Feng Xiaoting.

“3!”