Chapter 444: He Who Bears Thunder in His Heart Yet Keeps His Face Calm as a Still Lake May Be Appointed General

Upon hearing this, several members of the team fell silent.

Li Hua, Ma Guojun, Liu Yang, and even Sun Zhicheng, who had always been at odds with him, couldn't help but glance at Jiang Nian.

"Wait, bro, you're not even scared?"

"Damn it, Nian," Li Hua gave him a dead-eyed stare, "right now, you still gotta show off?"

3

"You can't say that," Lin Dong said. "What if we win? I just saw someone carrying a camera."

"Really?" Yang Qiming's eyes lit up with hope. "If my goal gets filmed..."

"Just finished?" Li Hua looked at him. "The way you say that? You'd need four or five hits to come up with something that stupid."

"Hard to say—what if we get lucky?" Tao Ran flicked his hair. "Too bad the dimensional wall can't be broken. What a shame."

"What's the point of talking?" Ma Guojun couldn't stand the gloomy vibes. "Fuck it, I don't even fantasize about you scoring a single goal."

"Just don't kick the ball into your own net—that's all we ask. Every goal counts. Especially you, Li Hua. Don't act like a dog chasing its tail."

"Red Stone! Red Stone!" Li Hua couldn't take the insult—he pointed at him. "Guard your goal. Stay humble."

"Shut up, useless defensive mid."

The sports field was chaotic; the pitch hadn't been cleared yet.

The two teams stood at opposite edges of the field, waiting for the signal to enter. As time passed, the other side began chatting and laughing.

"This match is crucial—we're about to get paid," said the team captain. "Guys, stay calm. Don't give them any openings."

"Wait, we're still gonna lose? Our skill level?"

"I watched their class play. One guy's strong. Their defenders can't even kick. The rest? Total garbage."

"Strong? How strong? Give him some physical pressure and he'll shut up."

"Ease up, don't break the genius. What if his wound heals before you even peel off the bandage?"

Unrestrained laughter drifted from their ranks. The opponents were so weak, they looked like they'd collapse with a single hit.

An invisible sense of home-field superiority spread through their teasing banter.

"Did anyone come to watch the game?"

Suddenly, someone started it. Then came the knowing, ambiguous laughter.

"No," the love-struck guy scratched his head, embarrassed. "Let's win first. I want to use the prize money to visit Wugong Mountain."

"Ohhh!!"

"You're not going alone, are you? Moving this fast?"

"Fuck, I envy Song Ge so much. Such a gorgeous girlfriend. Congrats on 99! When you get married, remember to hand out candy!"

The love-struck guy smiled but didn't answer.

"Don't talk nonsense."

In an instant, a girl with a cold, elegant aura stepped out from the sideline—everyone involuntarily turned to stare.

All the carefully crafted compliments about beauty instantly collapsed.

The people who had just been praising the love-struck guy's girlfriend fell silent. Their gazes followed her until she walked into Class Three's team.

The genius.

"Actually..." The love-struck guy had nothing left to say—any words felt clumsy. "Guys, give it everything!"

"Yeah, we really should take this seriously."

"This school-level match still has value. We should respect our opponents. Sportsmanship means the game comes first."

On Class Three's side, Li Qingrong gave the team a task.

"We need to chant a slogan."

"Huh?" Jiang Nian was confused. He turned toward the class's side, but too many people blocked his view. "What's Old Liu up to now?"

"Old Liu's gonna start directing again—great," Li Hua groaned. "Why the hell do we need a slogan?"

"To show our class spirit," Li Qingrong said calmly.

She only delivered the message—whether the players shouted it or not was none of her concern. Of course, she had her own small personal reason.

"Win," she said, looking straight into Jiang Nian's eyes.

"Mm." Jiang Nian nodded, expression calm. "There's a trophy for winning. And a separate medal."

Hearing this, Li Qingrong understood his meaning.

"Mm. I'll wait."

With that, she turned and walked away.

To win would be difficult.

It was the consensus among spectators.

Whether judging by the teams' attire or their energy and spirit, Class Three was clearly inferior to the semi-professional side.

Even if the other team wasn't from the school's sports class, even if they had only half as many athletes, their strength was visibly obvious.

Without saying a word, everyone in Class Three placed their hopes on Jiang Nian. Their gazes unconsciously drifted toward him.

Whoosh—!

As both teams entered the field, spectators were barred from entering. The whistle blew, and both sides received their jerseys.

They called them jerseys, but they were just vests.

Campus soccer was a makeshift affair—after all, neither team could muster a single professional player.

Class Three, wearing red, put on their vests.

The players shook hands, then lined up on either side of the referee. A designated person took photos—click! "Whoosh—!"

"Alright, players, take your positions!"

There are still no offside rules, perhaps it's not pretty. But it's better suited for this wild field, after all, this field

doesn't even have much grass left.

It's a small place—just as long as you can play.

The referee tossed a coin.

"Call one?"

Jiang Nian lowered his eyelids, 【Precise】 guessing.

"The side with the character."

"Then I'll take the flower."

The coin flew up and landed in the referee's hand.

"It's character."

To the opposing forward: "?"

He scratched his head, silently regretting. Who kicks off doesn't matter much—it's just that he felt unlucky.

The match won't last long; each half is about twenty minutes.

The opening was tense, with three or four players surrounding Jiang Nian, forcing him to pass, then targeting Li Hua and Lin Dong.

Five minutes passed, neither side scored.

To spectators outside, five minutes was but a blink. But for the players on the field, it felt endlessly long.

Because each team's stamina was at its peak in the first five minutes, this was usually the easiest time to score, so attacks and defenses came frequently.

Both sides were pushing to their limits, determined to tear a piece of flesh off each other.

The ball was intercepted.

"Damn, how did they steal it?" Li Hua sprinted forward and tackled without hesitation, as if aiming for mutual destruction.

"What the hell?"

The opponents could only pass the ball away, sending it to the fullback.

Jiang Nian spent most of his time in midfield and the opponent's half, focusing purely on offense; he wasn't worried about defense in the first half.

The students from Class Three still had decent stamina—at least enough to last a few more minutes.

He was looking for an opening, trying to score.

Outside the field.

"Jiang Nian's form is good, but he's under too much psychological pressure," Bao Weiwei, dressed in a cotton dress, began her commentary toward the field.

Hearing this, the Class Three students gathered around Bao Weiwei looked astonished.

"Teacher, you understand soccer?"

"You sound so professional."

"Of course—I went through student life too," Bao Weiwei crossed her arms, putting on an air of superiority, though in truth she'd heard it from Jiang Nian.

Psychological pressure because they must score within the first five minutes of the half,

the longer they wait, the smaller Class Three's chances become.

Even if wild punches might knock out an old master, it couldn't be denied that the opponents' passing and control far outclassed Class Three's makeshift team.

At this point, the weakness of the defensive midfielder became obvious. Li Hua's dribbling was average, his shooting inaccurate, and he couldn't push forward to become a winger.

Jiang Nian had to constantly expand his vision while also preparing to retreat defensively—otherwise, they'd get broken through before even scoring.

As a result, neither side gained any advantage.

Dejiang had arrived early and stood not far away.

She watched for a while, then walked over to Bao Weiwei and greeted her. Not awkward, but a bit forced for someone with social anxiety.

"Did Teacher Zhuang come too?"

"Yes, it is the championship match," Bao Weiwei smiled sweetly. "Class Three's kids are so cute—I have to watch with them."

"Teacher… waaahhh!!"

One could only say: Bao Weiwei was a pure, wicked woman. One sentence, and she sent the entire Class Three into a daze.

"So moved, Teacher, I love you so much!"

"Teacher loves you too! Mua!"

Dejiang stood to the side, suddenly feeling utterly defeated. Encountering an old teacher, she exhausted every strategy—and still couldn't… win.

She couldn't bring herself to say those words, so she murmured softly,

"Me too."

Zhang Ningzhi pulled Yao Bei Bei away to take photos elsewhere, passing by just then. She flashed through her own team's group, then walked off.

The two girls were searching for the best vantage point and had already taken many photos of Jiang Nian.

"Beibei, did they score?"

"No," she shook her head, frowning. "I feel like our team's guys are almost out of stamina."

"Huh?"

Zhang Ningzhi grew slightly panicked—she'd agreed to photograph Jiang Nian, but hadn't expected the situation on the field to be this dire.

Suddenly, she remembered Jiang Nian's words: If they don't score within five minutes, then…: She quickly turned and asked,

"What minute is it?"

"Eight."

Among the crowd, Zhang Ningzhi felt the pressure too, unconsciously rising onto her toes to watch Jiang Nian sprinting across the field.

She silently prayed: Just score one.

Click.

Wang Yuhe took a photo with her phone; surrounded by strangers, she turned to look at the girl beside her.

"Yunyun, I want to go play too."

"How many minutes?"

Nine.

Jiang Nian's last two attacks were both blocked by several players; his rear defense had too many gaps, forcing him to spend time retreating.

The opponents had skill, and even their cleats were professional.

Jiang Nian thought dribbling past and shooting wasn't hard—it was hard because this game wasn't about one person; teammates also applied pressure.

But whether teammates lost the ball or kept passing poorly, Jiang Nian's gaze remained calm, running while scanning for openings—"Nian!"

The ball flew out from behind and landed near Jiang Nian.

The opportunity had come.

Jiang Nian accelerated, dribbling the ball toward the opponent's penalty area; his control over the ball's speed was precise.

With just the right amount of dribbling, he passed two players.

At the same time, he forced the opponents to contract their defense, even

pulling their central midfielders back. Several closed in, surrounding Jiang Nian.

Li Hua panicked, cursed, "Fucking disgraceful!" He rushed to support Jiang Nian—but it was too late.

Then, an odd thing happened.

Jiang Nian swayed twice, slipping out from between the two defenders, and the ball shot through the blockade at a sharp angle.

It hit the ground, rolling a few times to slow down—the perfect force, as if waiting for Jiang Nian to come and take control.

Undoubtedly, the most brilliant dribble yet!

"Holy shit!"

"What the hell are you doing, you fucking idiot!" the opponent's boyfriend yelled, "How could you lose this ball? Unbelievable!"

The opponent's half-field descended into chaos.

Jiang Nian remained calm, sprinting across the field; the ball stuck to his feet like glue, steady and unyielding.

He'd broken through—the goalkeeper, wearing a green vest, stood alone before the wide goal. The half-field was empty—he was as if walking through无人之地!

That tiny green dot looked incredibly small.

One-on-one!

Jiang Nian sprinted forward, chased by a group behind him. In barely seconds, he closed in on the goal.

Entering the penalty area, he put immense pressure on the goalkeeper.

Fuck, never seen anything like this.

Should I rush out to tackle him, or wait and see? This guy dribbles so smoothly—he treats passing me like drinking water.

Dammit, someone save me!

Unlike the panicked goalkeeper, Jiang Nian didn't overthink. He kept his speed, charging straight at the goal without shooting—his presence alone crushed the opponent with pressure.

Finally, the goalkeeper cracked under the psychological strain. He abandoned his post and charged out.

At that moment, every eye fixed on Jiang Nian alone.

Hearts rose to their throats.

Near the ten-minute mark, the most brilliant breakthrough—the first scoring chance of the match, the highest-probability goal opportunity.

As Jiang Nian neared the goalkeeper, he suddenly lifted his foot to shoot. The keeper instinctively dove—only to miss. Jiang Nian executed a smooth feint, flicking the ball to the right, darting past the goalkeeper in one fluid motion.

Now, only the empty goal lay before him.

He swung his foot and struck—no doubt about it!

The football spun through the air and flew straight into the net! A long, sharp whistle blew—goal confirmed, score achieved!

"It… it's in!!"

"Holy shit holy shit! Aaaahhh!!"

The entire class went wild; after a brief moment of breathless silence, cheers erupted, arms flailing, voices roaring to the heavens.

"Scored!" Xu Qianqian

Xu Qianqian was equally excited.

She'd watched the match for ten minutes on the sideline, her heart suspended in midair; after ten minutes of tension, she finally heard good news.

One goal, scored by Class Qie!

"That's great!" Song Xiuyun exhaled, gripping Xu Qianqian's hand, "I was terrified just now."

"Me too, so nervous," Xu Qianqian's cheeks flushed red, "I've never been this tense—it felt like I was playing myself."

After relaxing, she remembered something. She pulled Song Xiuyun along the sideline, heading toward Class Qie.

"Come on, let's go see how pretty his teacher really is."

Players on the field were celebrating, but Jiang Nian showed little reaction. Watching their cheers, he calmly organized tactics and substitution timing.

Li Hua stood stunned, sincerely saying:

"Honestly, I'm moved. I thought you didn't care about anything—but turns out you're the one on our team who wants to win the most."

Jiang Nian thought this was true: if the team lost, they'd only lose time and prize money; if he lost, he'd be finished.

"Yeah, I really want to win."

Li Hua slowly walked to the sideline, slightly dragging out the time.

After all, they had the advantage—delaying a minute increased their edge further.

"Hua-ge, need a towel?" Ceng You pulled out a rag.

"Y-yes..." Li Hua froze, then roared, "Cishi, you fucking asshole—this isn't a blackboard eraser!"

"Use this for now—will it work?" Zhao Hao pulled out a ball of steel wool.

Li Hua wasn't really wiping sweat; he grumbled and walked away.

"Fuck, a bunch of idiots."

The match continued, but this time Class Three didn't have such good luck. The opponents scored a goal in the final minutes of the first half.

Jiang Nian had no choice—he couldn't get back in time to save it.

Lin Dong and the others were nearly out of stamina, but they still showed some face: when retreating, they didn't walk—they used Slow Step.

The defense was shattered; it was 1-1.

Jiang Nian, from afar, locked eyes with a few players from Class Two. Lin Dong nodded, preparing to leave the field for a rest.

Whoosh—!

In the final minutes of the first half, the opponents' Love Guy charged forward with full confidence. But suddenly, from his left, Lin Dong slid in with a tackle.

Thud.

The ball flew away; Lin Dong also crashed into the Love Guy, sending him flying half a meter with a slide.

"Fuck!"

"Dong Ge is awesome, so brutal!"

"Wow, fierce."

The opponents' Love Guy collapsed, writhing in pain, face contorted.

"Are you fucking…"

"Sorry, sorry!" Lin

Dong quickly apologized and helped him up. "I'm just a beginner—I'm really sorry."

The first half ended.

Lin Dong tackled the ball first, didn't kick late, and didn't lift his foot—so the referee didn't call a foul.

But he voluntarily stepped down, letting Sun Zhicheng take his place.

"Ah Cheng, remember to tackle the ankle," Lin Dong patted his shoulder, passing on the torch, "Win this."

On the other side, Xu Qianqian had already met the teacher Jiang Nian mentioned.

From afar, she glanced at Ye Yanqing and saw Jiang Nian walking toward her during halftime, taking a bottle of water from her hand.

Another female teacher, very elegant and mature, also walked over. She patted Jiang Nian's shoulder and said something with a smile.

She couldn't help narrowing her eyes, a faint frown forming.

"Is she that pretty?"

Although… she was still a bit behind me, she had confidence. In a few years, her aura would surpass that teacher's.

Mature women, disgusting!

Just as Xu Qianqian was studying Ye Yanqing, Song Xiuyun beside her suddenly asked.

"Should we go over?"

"No, look at how pathetic he is," Xu Qianqian reflexively refused. "I'm not going—look at him smiling like that."

Song Xiuyun glanced over and pursed her lips.

"Alright."

Li Qing had wanted to bring Jiang Nian water, but seeing Ye Yanqing had already given him some, she didn't dare offer again—after all, the woman was a teacher.

Kang Ningzhi felt the same—she was constrained by the fact that the teacher was a teacher. Both teachers had come to watch Class Three's match, and they hadn't left even after so long—that was already more than generous.

She huffed in annoyance, glaring at Jiang Nian a few times, then twisted open her electrolyte water and drank it down in big gulps.

Cat on the prowl!!

On Chen Yunyun's side, because Wang Yuhe was socially anxious, she didn't go over either—she only watched from afar, waiting for the second half.

The rest period lasted only a few minutes; the second half began quickly.

Whoosh—the match resumed.

This time, the situation was almost entirely one-sided.

Within five minutes of the start, after the opponents substituted players, they broke through like a flood, storming into Class Two's penalty area and scoring again.

It was 2-1.

Sun Zhicheng and Yang Qiming, as substitutes, faced immense pressure the moment they stepped on the field—and immediately, the team collapsed.

The opponents' fierce offense forced Jiang Nian to retreat. He switched from forward to defender, barely holding back their attack.

Both sides sank into a stamina war, waiting to see who would collapse first.

Yang Qiming had average stamina and no standout ability. He used every trick to defend, yet the opponent slipped past him effortlessly.

"Can't stop him!"

Sun Zhicheng was slightly better—he at least had solid fundamentals.

He could at least block some attacks, easing some pressure off the team.

But he lacked Lin Dong's boldness—he was too hesitant to commit a foul.

This time, Tao Ran stepped in.

A tackle—technique was extremely clumsy.

Whoosh! Directly sent off.

"Ah! Fuck you, you idiot!!" The opponent player rolled on the ground, his ankle throbbing, "Ssah! Ssah!"

Class Two's players were stunned—they never expected the class monitor to have this side.

"Although it's a foul, isn't it still a good tackle?"

"Well, for…"

Chen Yunyun's camera never left Jiang Nian. She stared at the screen, at that face—calm, unchanging, like still water.

Every time the opponent attacked, they drove straight toward Qiban's penalty area; spectators held their breath for Qiban, yet he remained calm.

Even as danger loomed like a mountain pressing down, his expression remained as flat as a plain.

Eight minutes later, aside from Jiang Nian, almost no one in Qiban could still move; Sun Zhicheng had been defending nonstop.

Yang Qiming was even worse—he nearly fainted from frustration.

The score: one to two.

The situation was perilously dire; collapse was moments away. The opponent had launched multiple attacks and continued to press hard.

"It's over. I can't watch anymore." Chen Ningzhi covered her eyes. "Beibei, how much time's left?"

"About fifteen minutes," Yao Bei Bei replied.

Li Qing watched from afar, her face expressionless. More precisely, her gaze had been locked onto one person.

"Are we going to lose?" Song Xiuyun clenched her hands.

"No. If that man were going to lose, he wouldn't look like this," Xu Qianqian shook her head, no longer paying attention to Qiban's female teacher.

Even though she said that, her brows still unconsciously furrowed.

"Jiang Nian—he grows colder the more he's pushed. That's proof he's still holding back a breath, ready to fight fiercely."

On the field.

Jiang Nian stood in the opponent's half, occupying the best vantage point.

He noticed it wasn't just Qiban's players moving slowly—the opposing team's movements had also slowed significantly since the first half.

At the start of the second half, the opponents attacked like madmen.

With a thud, Ma Guoci cleared a sideline ball out of bounds—another successful defense, giving Qiban a chance to catch their breath.

Jiang Nian knew the moment had come: one surge, then decline, then exhaustion.

Fifteen minutes.

Li Hua seized an offensive opportunity and unhesitatingly launched a long pass to forward Jiang Nian—but didn't expect much.

Everyone was exhausted; no more physical energy could be squeezed out.

Yet Jiang Nian, with a speed defying human limits, suddenly sprinted across the field, dribbling alone toward the opponent's half.

Charging forward.

"Sssss~!!"

"What the hell is he doing?"

Not only did the players in the opponent's half stare in shock—Qiban's own teammates were stunned too. What kind of beast has this kind of stamina? Can he still run?

"Defend! Defend!" the opponent's captain shouted, yet he wasn't panicked—only set up standard defense. "Stop him."

As he retreated, he couldn't help smiling.

A cornered beast's last struggle.

The next second, Jiang Nian charged straight in—dribbled past defenders, reenacting a one-on-one break, showing not a trace of fatigue.

This time, the opponent's captain was stunned.

"What's going on?"

"Can't stop him!! How is this happening?!"

"Surround him! Don't let him shoot! Quickly close in!"

"Biiiiii—!!"

History repeated itself: teammates behind struggled to defend. A perfect combination—forward broke through alone, fulfilling his teammates' hopes.

Scored!!

The score instantly became two to two.

The field erupted in cheers, a tidal wave of applause crashing over them. People felt directly,

the charm of competition.

Near death—yet rebirth!

"Scored! The score…: …: …is tied!" Wang Yuhe excitedly hugged Chen Yunyun. "Yunyun, it's two to two!"

"We're going to win," Chen Yunyun said, equally excited—from tense anticipation to shock to disappointment to tense anticipation again, speechless with emotion.

Not just wanting to win. Not just able to win. But destined to win.

The final four minutes—every heart hung suspended in midair.

After retreating, Jiang Nian regained possession. His face showed no emotion—he passed the ball to a teammate instead of going solo.

He had no hesitation; he could only choose the latter.

The ball went to Li Hua. The entire team nearly abandoned defense, surging forward together, all fighting for the final moment.

"Intercept!"

"Stop that idiot defensive midfielder!"

The opponents were nearly hysterical—this was their last chance. If they delayed further, it would go to extra time; everyone chose to gamble.

Yet Jiang Nian was too fast.

Like a red lightning bolt, he shattered the few defenders chasing him in an instant.

The final minute—no one knew exactly how many seconds remained.

Five opponents still stood before Jiang Nian. Countless cameras focused on him. Everyone held their breath, waiting for a miracle.

【Cure】 was still rising, still rising!

"Never before has there been such a magnificent start!" Amidst the roaring cheers, Jiang Nian dribbled past the defenders, as if entering an empty field.

Final five seconds—GOAL!

Beep—

A long whistle sounded, and a tidal wave of screams drowned the entire arena.