Chapter 200: A Goal Like Neo Dodging Bullets from The Matrix
Holy shit!
Frank Lampard, who do you look down on?
"Captain!"
"Ding-dong"
"Please choose 'Training' or 'Match' mode, Host."
"Match."
"Please choose pitch position: A Forward, B…"
"A."
"Detected that the Host's team is in a difficult situation. Matching Host with attribute [Absolute Ball Sense]."
"The ball at your feet obeys you like a well-trained puppy…"
"Please choose 'Autonomous Mode' or 'One-Click AFK Mode'."
"Tip: During AFK, the system will automatically execute actions to meet performance metrics."
"One-click AFK!"
Terry attacked the back post to meet the ball. Xia Qi sprang out of the crowd like a cheetah — so fast that before Ramires could finish his warning he was already in front of Terry, and with lightning speed he hooked his toe in.
The ball slipped through Terry's legs without Terry noticing. At the same time, a gust of air rushed past Terry's cheek as Xia Qi's legs powered through.
The icy-face who had startled was gone!
"Xia Qi!"
"Take it, then break!"
"He passed the ball to himself three seconds later!"
In the live stream Zhan Jun was hoarse with excitement, shouting like a man possessed.
Matching his mood were the Arsenal fans in the stadium — everyone jumped out of their seats, waving their arms to cheer Xia Qi on.
On the pitch, one of Chelsea's two center-backs, John Terry, had been pierced by Xia Qi. In front of Xia Qi now stood only Chelsea's other center-back David Luiz and goalkeeper Petr Čech; behind him was the turning, chasing Terry.
Luiz saw the distance between the trailing Terry and Xia Qi growing and lost hope in his partner.
He retreated while calculating Xia Qi's stride and cadence.
Suddenly,
Xia Qi's next touch — a drag — was a longer stride than before.
Rhythm broken???
This is an opportunity!
A chance to dispossess!
In a flash, Luiz didn't have time to consider another possibility — maybe this was a trap.
He immediately abandoned the retreating defense and lunged for the ball.
Reality is cruel.
It really was a trap!
The more he lunged forward,
the more Xia Qi immediately accelerated again,
a lightning step not only catching up with the ball but flicking it to the right.
That direction was opposite to Luiz's sliding motion.
Seeing Xia Qi change direction so effortlessly while speeding,
Luiz realized he'd been outplayed.
In an instant, humiliation and anger overwhelmed him; he braked hard despite the ankle's protest and launched a second effort, aiming a sliding tackle at the ball.
That sliding tackle was the maximum in that situation — he had given everything, even risking his World Cup!
But choice matters more than effort.
His slide was still a fraction too slow; Xia Qi pushed the ball past Luiz's toe.
Seeing Xia Qi's silky sequence of direction changes, Luiz pictured that Brazilian football wizard.
Ball affinity 100!
This guy too!
In slow motion you could see that Xia Qi's poke wasn't just fast.
On the replay, Xia Qi's bent left leg looked like a spring compressed to the extreme, explosively launching him forward while his right foot stretched forward to prod the ball away before Luiz could reach it.
Right after poking the ball with his right foot, Xia Qi leapt up.
That jump not only avoided Luiz's sliding tackle but also cleared the obstacle and kept him in the attacking lead.
Luiz knew that if Xia Qi got through, all the team's efforts would be wasted, so he slightly raised his left foot — a scissors kick!
He still had some decency; the scissor wasn't wide, just enough to trip Xia Qi slightly.
That moment was crucial!
Xia Qi would lose balance mid-air and fall.
But Xia Qi in one-click AFK mode had all attributes at max level; it would be Xia Qi who suffered later, not now.
After Xia Qi's left foot landed, though his body tilted, he didn't lose balance — he staggered a bit, regained his center of gravity, and resumed chasing the ball.
"Xia…" the stadium DJ stretched the name out in disbelief.
"Oh my God!" sounded intermittently from the stands…
If those foreigners knew "Little Qiang," they'd all be shouting "Xia Xiaoqiang!" right now.
However,
Luiz's effort was not wasted!
Terry used the moment Luiz tried to "trap" Xia Qi to close the gap and accelerate the chase.
He vaulted over Luiz with a hurdling action and thundered toward Xia Qi like lightning.
To catch Xia Qi, Terry put every ounce of energy he'd ever used chasing other men's wives into this recovery sprint.
He closed in,
He overtook,
When he was half a body length ahead he lashed out at the ball with a huge boot.
This should end it!
That was Terry's inner cry as he swung.
But what if that momentary lead was exactly what Xia Qi wanted?
Terry swung and missed!
In that instant, as Terry wound his boot, Xia Qi, in a flash like a dragonfly, clipped the ball with a touch that made it vanish from its previous spot.
Terry not only missed the ball but brushed past Xia Qi's shoulder.
He could only turn his head in astonishment and watch Xia Qi drag, flick, and glide away.
After blinking several times, he understood — the illusion of catching Xia Qi was created by Xia Qi himself.
Bitter taste rose to his tongue! For a moment he toyed with retirement after the World Cup.
Wembley exploded, went mad. Many Arsenal fans, after Xia Qi got past Terry, tore their shirts off and waved them overhead like maniacs.
Many of these fans were female; the camera shots were a bit risqué, but who cares — we all wanted to see.
Amid the fans' hysteria, Xia Qi accelerated toward Chelsea's goal.
Čech, furious after Terry's big boot flew through thin air, howled "useless" and surged out at Xia Qi.
Around the small box line, the two charged forward unstoppable, and a "car crash" seemed inevitable.
Some timid viewers had already covered their eyes.
Many held their breath, eyes wide so as not to miss a frame…
At the moment of the collision, Xia Qi twisted his hips and slipped past Čech like a fish through water,
dodging Čech just as Neo in The Matrix dodges bullets.
"Oh my God!"
The crowd felt as if tonight's number of "Oh God!" exclamations had exceeded the past few years.
Unbelievable.
If you hadn't seen it with your own eyes,
if others around you weren't also in disbelief,
you'd think you were dreaming or watching anime.
But this was reality.
In reality, Xia Qi twisted and slithered past Čech's lunge, faced the empty net, and struck a low shot!
"Goal!"
"Goal!"
"My God! This is the most beautiful goal I've ever seen in my life."
When Xia Qi beat Terry, the roar at Wembley had already gone wild; by the time the ball hit the net, the cheering was deafening.
Even the usually genteel Professor — Arsène Wenger — had taken off his coat and waved it overhead. Can you imagine anyone still calm in the Arsenal camp?
If you watch Xia Qi's goal in slow motion and you're an Arsenal fan, you'd go mad!
If you're a Chelsea fan, you'd grudgingly applaud like the Chelsea supporters did.
This was a "goal of the century"!
Other Puskás Goals would bow down before it…
Chapter 201: The Poke Shot Built on Powerful Computation
José Mourinho watched Xia Qi continue full throttle and felt his fists clench, staring anxiously.
But the expected car-crash moment didn't happen. As Čech lunged to bring Xia Qi down, Xia Qi suddenly twisted and slipped behind Čech.
This is freaking magical!
Mourinho rubbed his eyes hard, glanced up at the big screen again and muttered, "Is this a world of magic? Is Xia Qi some kind of wizard?"
His assistant George gave a wry smile and said, "Boss, we're 0–1 down now. Should we adjust the tactics?"
Trailing means if you don't take the initiative, you're basically surrendering.
George's words snapped Mourinho to attention. A 0–1 deficit was not insurmountable; Chelsea not only had the chance to equalize, they could possibly turn it around.
What mattered most was steadying the team and not letting Xia Qi's magical goal sap their will.
With that in mind, Mourinho hurried to the sideline, gestured and shouted Terry's name to have him comfort and warn the players: don't panic, continue the counter-attacking tactics.
Back at Chelsea for his second spell, Mourinho had rebuilt a squad with its iron will largely restored over half a season. They had repeatedly overturned situations in the Premier League and Champions League.
The players' morale was hit by Xia Qi's hat trick and that magical goal, but under Terry and Mourinho's encouragement they licked their wounds and prepared to fight on.
A comeback against Arsenal was everyone's shared desire.
But football is a two-sided game.
Arsenal's players, inspired by Xia Qi's one-on-three and the spectacular goal, were buoyant — their combat power was off the charts.
If this were a game, clicking on each Arsenal player would show they're at full HP.
When play resumed,
Chelsea kicked off but didn't hurry to attack.
Arsenal, with the lead, didn't want to slow-walk; seeing Chelsea crouched back, every Arsenal player moved forward, as if they could run forever.
Faced with Arsenal's ferocious high press, Chelsea's passing faltered; the ball could only be passed layer by layer backward, while Arsenal pressed forward layer by layer.
Soon the ball reached David Luiz. Facing the advancing Mario Balotelli,
Luiz intended to pass to his goalkeeper Petr Čech but changed his mind at the last moment.
Worried Balotelli wouldn't stop charging at the keeper, he flicked the ball forward intending to play it to Ramires.
Ramires, seeing Luiz shaping to pass to Čech, hadn't planned to take the ball and began to prepare a switch with John Obi Mikel, but the ball came anyway.
And Kevin De Bruyne was loitering nearby.
Danger occurred casually.
"Chance!"
"Luiz makes a huge mistake!"
"De Bruyne intercepts!"
After the interception, Kevin De Bruyne looked to the front and sent a long pass — go!
The ball sailed to the edge of the box arc.
That area should have been Balotelli's, but he'd sprinted toward the goalkeeper, leaving a gap.
De Bruyne trusted that Xia Qi on Balotelli's flank would instantly understand his intention.
And he was right.
"Ding-dong, [Telepathic Connection] attribute triggered."
Before the voice faded in Xia Qi's head, he had already rocketed into that vacant space.
Mourinho's defense was impressive; the instant De Bruyne lofted the pass, Terry surged like a tiger.
Only Xia Qi was faster and took the optimal position, waiting for the ball to drop.
Terry, resentful, stuck close to Xia Qi to try to squeeze him out, but his usual "big butt" tactics that worked on others had no effect on Xia Qi.
Xia Qi barely acknowledged Terry's harassment. After chest-trapping the ball, he rolled his foot, spun his body to the right, executed a Marseille turn, and ended up behind Terry.
"Beautiful!"
"Control and dribble in one smooth motion!"
"What a superb cover defense!"
Frank Lampard, who had been assigned to mark Xia Qi all over the pitch, was momentarily distracted and let Xia Qi slip away.
At that moment, Lampard arrived just in front of Xia Qi, plugging the hole for Terry — a splendid recovery!
The AI seeking the best moment didn't have Xia Qi push on but instead passed to Santi Cazorla, who came to support.
After passing, Xia Qi kept running forward, seemingly aiming for a wall pass with Cazorla.
Mourinho's defense wouldn't be broken easily. César Azpilicueta rushed like a hungry wolf toward the advancing Xia Qi.
Lampard and Terry lunged at Cazorla.
"Chelsea's defense is well-ordered and layered; Xia Qi still can't break them…"
Cazorla was double-teamed and couldn't play forward, so he passed back.
Behind him, De Bruyne didn't stop the attack; he continued driving forward without taking a touch.
The ball rolled along the turf, threading past Cazorla, Terry, and Lampard toward Xia Qi.
"Xia Qi receives the ball right on the edge of the box."
Xia Qi turned side-on to the goal, with Azpilicueta positioned square at his flank.
A forced shot was possible, but AI doesn't gamble on randomness. With a flick of his ankle he passed to the onrushing Mario Balotelli.
Balotelli didn't stop the ball either and slid it across.
From that position, Theo Walcott cocked his long leg as if drawing a bow.
Terry had to rush at Walcott, ready to use his body to block the shot.
However, when Walcott settled the ball he didn't shoot; he turned and laid a reverse triangle pass back to Kevin De Bruyne.
That move was unexpected!
It was like putting a hat on but forgetting to put on the pants — Terry was furious and nearly spat blood. Chelsea's normally well-running back line was thrown off.
They, like Terry, felt Walcott's cheeky operation lodged in their throats like phlegm.
De Bruyne seized the chance — control, pull, dribble — a flurry of moves that left Lampard behind and drove into the box.
He glanced and saw Luiz sliding in; De Bruyne used the inside of his foot to drag the ball away from the tackle.
"One-on-one with the keeper!"
Arsenal fans erupted again — this was a superb chance; if they seized it, the FA Cup would be within reach.
Seeing De Bruyne through, Chelsea's defense collapsed.
Branislav Ivanović abandoned his marking of Balotelli to close down De Bruyne.
Azpilicueta abandoned Xia Qi to close down De Bruyne.
Terry abandoned Walcott to close down De Bruyne.
Almost simultaneously, Xia Qi and Walcott made overlapping runs.
Walcott attacked the near side to stretch defenses and relieve pressure.
Xia Qi — with superior technique — positioned at the far post, ready to receive.
Lampard pursued De Bruyne, but by the time he chased back it was pointless. Between the uncovered Walcott and Xia Qi, Lampard hesitated for a split second and instinctively chose to mark the nearer Walcott.
Although this description is long, it all occurred in a heartbeat; attacking and defending were driven by ingrained experience rather than conscious thought.
De Bruyne, one-on-one, faked a shot but Ivanović powered his legs and swung his back to block the attempt.
But De Bruyne didn't shoot. With a heel flick he lifted the ball backwards.
It was a "God's-eye" pass — behind him, Xia Qi was unmarked.
Arsenal's most lethal player — unmarked.
Chelsea players suddenly felt like the word "stupid" was stamped on their foreheads. At least the looks Arsenal players gave them said as much.
At the far post, Xia Qi planted himself on the edge of the big box, like Walcott had, and cocked his long leg.
Again the posture of drawing a bow.
But everyone knew this time it was for real!
The ball became a white flash, hurtling toward the goal…
Čech, like a predator, fixed his gaze on Xia Qi's ankle and tried to anticipate the motion.
He spread his wings and dived —
Yet the expected thunderous cannon didn't come.
The instant Xia Qi's right foot met the ball he slightly pulled the foot back, like retracting a punch, and then — amid gasps — sent a razor-like prod with his toe.
He converted a power strike into an exquisite poke!
In the air, Čech swore; the penalty area was packed with players and Xia Qi chose a ground-struck shooter — what audacity!
"Xia Qi! I f*** your ancestors…" (Čech's outburst)
Xia Qi's poke skidded along the turf, zipping toward goal like a little mouse fleeing among people.
Arsenal players in the box scattered and cleared a path for the ball.
Chelsea's players, conversely, all flung legs to block.
Of course, none touched the ball.
This seemingly "irrational" shot was actually based on AI calculation, not a hot-headed gamble.
When no one stopped the ball, all eyes turned to Čech, placing the last hope on him.
But Čech misread the direction and dove the wrong way — how could he save it???
No miracle.
No suspense.
The ball hit the net and rippled the mesh!
"Xia Qi!" (off-key shout)
Hearing De Bruyne's delightfully cheeky heel pass, Zhan Jun's voice took on a strange falsetto.
"Sc… cough, cough… goal."
Everyone except Xia Qi expected a whipped power shot; instead Xia Qi produced a jaw-dropping low drive.
"Goal!"
Arsenal fans leapt up with a thunderous roar.
In the live stream Zhan Jun screamed: "Goal! A ground-driven strike! The ball weaved perfectly past everyone and tucked inside the left post."
His partner, Zhang Lu, heaped praise on the goal.
"This goal is incredibly beautiful, no less than Xia Qi's first. It's the fruit of team cooperation.
Through patient passing and dizzying combinations they allowed their best finisher to be left unmarked and created the chance.
Xia Qi executed the final blow with exquisite skill — a sudden ground-struck poke that toyed with all Chelsea defenders…"
Online,
"I owe Xia Qi an apology; I was calling him crazy when he tried the low shot."
"Pfft, what are you talking about? That's a god-level goal."
"Xia Qi was unmarked; he chose the option he trusted most. This low strike wasn't a gamble on luck."
"Exactly. Xia Qi surely saw the route to goal; with his technique he could've chosen a lofted shot too."
"No matter what you think, I admit I was shallow — I owe Xia Qi an apology."
"Me too!"
"Same +1…"
"…"
"Don't mistake our hobbies for a professional's work."
"Xia Qi takes his finishing seriously…"
After the goal, Xia Qi didn't perform a celebratory routine. His cold face slowly walked back.
His teammates poured over and clung to him.
"Beast!"
"A brace!"
"Damn, you act like you don't care and I want to punch you, but I'm perverse — love your calm after a goal. Tell me, how did you do it?"
Across the pitch, Chelsea players were stunned; they began to doubt Mourinho's tactics, their back line, even their own intelligence…
Confusion, frustration — those were their feelings.
On the touchline, Arsène Wenger and Patlès slapped hands to celebrate.
If Arsenal won the cup tonight, there would be no more "Mourinho-Wenger" supremacy argument.
That was Wenger's knot of worry — his eyes were wild and excited, convinced that once he broke the cocoon he would become a butterfly and his coaching abilities would reach a new level.
Mourinho flailed his arms and cursed as he saw the goal.
He could accept a two-goal deficit, but not that Xia Qi had been left unattended… Lampard felt the most wounded.
Soon Mourinho forced himself to calm, pacing the sideline, thinking about how to engineer a second-half comeback.
For the first half he had given up hope: players had no fight left, and not conceding further was a blessing; scoring one felt unthinkable.
When the referee blew for halftime, Mourinho snatched up his notebook and strode quickly into the tunnel with his head held high.
But the moment he entered the tunnel his confidence deflated like a punctured balloon.
Mourinho massaged his brow in pain — he knew the reason for trailing by two goals was entirely his fault.
Pre-match his preparation hadn't been as thorough as Wenger's.
Arsenal's second goal made that clear, especially the interchanging runs of Xia Qi and Walcott — an obvious tactical design Wenger had prepared against Mourinho's defense.
Was Lampard at fault for being caught unprepared?
No!
It was Mourinho's fault!
He'd been complacent, believing he had Wenger figured out, unaware that Wenger had grown; he was no longer the coach of a team without great generals.
On the walk back to the dressing room Mourinho gave his arrogant self a hard, deserved punch.
Mistakes corrected — there were still 45 minutes left. After I brew the chicken soup, I will rebuild the realm!
(END CHAPTER)
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