Chapter 20: My Girlfriend Was Stolen, Yet I Cannot Hate Him
The Southampton manager hadn't expected the Emirates Stadium to be more perilous than Old Trafford.
An ominous premonition welled up in his heart: tonight, escaping the fate of a massacre would be difficult.
Since shrinking back meant getting cut, and stretching your neck out also meant getting cut!
They might as well go all out!
After Southampton restarted the game, the entire team pressed forward.
This sudden, fierce move actually caught Arsenal a bit off guard.
Lambert dribbled down the wing and broke through, surprisingly running almost as fast as Walcott.
The two treated the pitch like a running track, tangling and scheming against each other all the way from the center circle to the corner flag.
Lambert couldn't shake off Walcott, and Walcott couldn't disrupt the breakthrough.
Based on this clip alone, Lambert's value would definitely rise after the match.
At the corner flag, the two continued their deception, each calculating against the other.
Walcott: Sister, boldly carry it forward! Carry it forward!
Lambert: Brother, come play with the ball! Seriously!
One wanted a corner kick.
The other resolutely refused to give it.
Walcott spread his arms, threading through Lambert's arm and pinning his hand, simultaneously embracing Lambert in his arms.
This wasn't for intimacy, but to prevent Lambert from turning around easily.
Once Lambert turned around, his field of vision would open up, and earning a corner would be easy.
If this weren't on a football pitch, the scene would truly be unsuitable for children.
Lambert hadn't seen Walcott extend a leg to steal the ball for a long time, knowing this "scumbag" had affection but no sincerity.
So he deliberately squeezed backward, feeling for the approximate position of Walcott's center of gravity.
Then, he quickly backheeled the football toward Walcott's center of gravity.
Who would have thought Walcott was already prepared and dodged just in time?
Self-perceived clever dodging turned into being a "big smarty-pants" (fool).
The football leaked past him, rolling toward the right rib of the penalty area.
I only wanted ten bucks, but you gave me a hundred?
What a good person!
Lambert accelerated past Walcott, chasing after the football.
Vermaelen rushed out of the penalty area at high speed to fill the gap.
But Lambert was faster, crossing the ball to the front of the goal first.
A semi-high ball, flying from right to left—front, middle, and back points all had a chance.
Puncheon and Djourou, at the near post, fought for the point. The two wrestled with each other, and the football was grazed, losing a layer of skin.
This graze changed the football's direction, flying behind the two of them, causing panic among the Arsenal players rushing for the middle and far points.
Schneiderlin seized the opportunity of Arsenal's minor error, rushing in from outside the box and unleashing a world-class volley. Coates threw his body to block the gun but failed.
The football struck the inside of the goalpost and rebounded across the face of the goal.
Szczesny dove sideways, his hands reaching to hug the football.
Arsenal fans collectively let out a sigh of relief, their suspended hearts returning to their rightful places.
However, Szczesny, who had been watching the game for free in the backfield for too long without exercise, found his hands stiff.
The football bounced in his palms like a mischievous child—neither caught nor slapped away.
Butterfingers!
He had dove sideways, and with no center of gravity to support a second save,
He could only watch helplessly as it jumped out of his palms.
...
...
The ownerless football turned the goalmouth into a chaotic battlefield.
Long legs battled spindly legs; thick thighs battled short legs.
After a round of strategic maneuvering,
Djourou's nose was red.
He had scored his first goal of the season.
Why is heaven always jealous of geniuses!
Before there was Sun Ce and Zhou Yu, now there is me, General Djourou???!
Szczesny held his head and comforted him: "It was my mistake, I'm sorry."
3:1!
Southampton discovered that this was how you play Arsenal. Arsenal was strong in attack but weak in defense, and they had "General Djourou" secretly helping them.
They had to be reckless!
Reckless! Recklessly forge a bright path!
Continue!
Arteta kicked off, and Walcott reached out for the ball.
Lambert, who had gained a slight advantage in the last round, proactively stepped up to defend.
The two almost re-enacted the previous round of offense and defense, only swapping the leading and supporting roles.
At the corner flag, Walcott wanted to imitate "Xi Shi clutching her heart" (a beauty move) and also backheeled the ball.
But it turned into "Dong Shi imitating the frown" (an ugly imitation). The football hit the arch of Lambert's foot, rebounded, and hit the calf of Walcott, who was turning to pass him.
After two rebounds, the football lost power. The final bounce was neither high nor far.
Both men had a chance.
For honor,
For their market value,
The two, fighting for their cause, kicked at each other in mid-air.
Meanwhile, in Xia Qi's mind:
"Ding! Detected that a second drop point is about to appear. [Teamfight Radar] attribute activating..."
"Precisely locking position. Making off-the-ball run..."
The football flew toward the corner flag again. Just as it was about to bounce out of bounds,
Xia Qi saw his body uncontrollably rushing toward the corner flag, thinking: This counts as a second point? Then there's a lot that can be snatched.
He first rushed out of the baseline, then stood outside the line, slightly adjusted his position, met the football, and unleashed another outside-of-the-boot volley.
A pass!
No,
It was a shot!
The football traced a bizarre arc, flying from above the near corner of the goal, scraping across the entire crossbar, falling at the far post, and dropping into the dead corner.
Goalkeeper Davis stood in the center of the goal and reached up single-handedly toward the space above the crossbar, but failed to intercept.
"A Van Basten zero-angle shot! A zero-angle shot in the truest sense."
"When it comes to shooting technique, I only bow to Xia Qi!"
At the Emirates Stadium, no one sat in their seats; everyone stood and applauded.
The on-site DJ asked loudly: "Who scored for us?"
The Arsenal fans at the scene shouted with all their lung capacity: "Xia Qi!"
Then he asked: "Van Persie?"
The whole stadium answered: "Who?"
At this moment, the gloom of Van Persie's departure truly dissipated...
The sky above the Emirates Stadium seemed to be perfectly clear.
Arsenal scored 5 goals, ending the first half with a score of 4:1.
Xia Qi had performed a hat-trick in one half, plus one assist.
In the second half, they changed sides and fought again.
Southampton might have drunk some "chicken soup" (motivational speech) during halftime.
They came out and almost gave Arsenal an "opening kill."
Lallana kicked off, Schneiderlin sent a through ball, and again Lambert cut inside from the byline. Without Walcott to block the knife, Coates could only meet him head-on.
Meanwhile, Puncheon and Schneiderlin rushed into the penalty area from the center, splitting into front and back points.
Lambert lived up to expectations. After two rounds of battling with Coates, he sent the football into the penalty area.
Vermaelen and Puncheon both missed the football at the near point.
The football reached the center and was kicked out of the penalty area by Djourou.
After the match, Djourou resolutely refused to admit it was a big-boot clearance. He emphasized that he had seen Xia Qi positioned at the very front.
This was a "deliberate" long-pass assist!
Xia Qi was currently standing near the center circle, in his own half, glancing sideways at Hooiveld.
The football flew over more than half the field and landed in front of the two of them.
Hooiveld was human and had emotions. His brothers were currently struggling for a second goal in Arsenal's penalty area.
His attention was inevitably distracted by this, but the AI was different—it had no emotions.
As the football flew over, Xia Qi immediately sprinted out.
He didn't volley it in the air but stopped the ball first, pushed it a small step forward, and seeing that goalkeeper Davis still didn't understand what was happening, stepped on the center line and swung his leg like a windmill.
On the TV broadcast, Zhang Lu suddenly remembered something and exclaimed, "It can't be a half-court lob, can it?"
How could anyone born before the 80s forget that shocking lob by the handsome blond lad?
The style of that lob was engraved in their DNA!
The football was like a Dongfeng missile, traversing the entire half-court and bombarding the goal with precision.
Davis realized it too late and retreated constantly, but no matter how hard he tried, the football missile was faster. As it flew over his head, Davis jumped symbolically, which of course was of no use.
The football blasted into the net, even puffing up a small tent after the bombardment.
"First pay tribute to Torres, then to Van Basten, and now pay tribute to Beckham. Say no more, from now on I am a 'Xia-blow' (Xia Qi fanboy)."
The cheers lifted the roof of the Emirates Stadium all the way to Old Trafford.
Many male Arsenal fans clutched their chests and sat down slowly: My girlfriend was stolen, yet I cannot hate him.
At this moment, my girlfriend and I fell in love with the same person.
If she wears a Xia Qi mask, will Laura be even wilder?
...Not suitable for children, ten thousand words omitted...
(Real match result: Arsenal 6:1 Southampton. It's not too excessive to make it 8:1 in the story, right!)
Biography of General Djourou (Excerpt from Gooners Bar!)
Djourou, courtesy name John. A man from the Ivory Coast. Height nine chi, waist circumference ten wei, face as black as charcoal. Familiar with Cuju (football) since childhood, proficient in ball skills. Possessed talents capable of managing heaven and earth, and ambitions encompassing the universe. Often compared himself to C. Ronaldo and Messi. Pelé evaluated him as "a capable minister in chaotic times, a hero in peaceful times," though no one could understand why.
Professor Wenger of the British Arsenal was appointed to recruit soldiers to contend for the crown. Knowing his great name, he visited his house seven times, wishing to hire him as a military strategist. On the way, he was intercepted by Man-Dogs. Villagers reported this to Djourou. Shortly after, Djourou arrived, gave a loud shout, and the dogs all scattered and fled. Wenger marveled greatly at this, saying: "This is my Zizou." Thus, he appointed him as a High General. Djourou came and went freely among millions of enemy troops, taking the heads of enemy leaders as easily as taking objects from a bag. Later, Wenger established repeated great merits and became the Shepherd of London; all this was due to the power of Djourou.
(END CHAPTER)
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