Two minutes of stoppage time were added to the first half.
In the first minute of added time, Zidane feinted past Cambiasso and charged straight toward Inter's defense with the ball.
Ronaldo burst forward.
Su Hang dropped back to receive the pass.
Zidane played the ball to Su Hang and continued his forward run.
Su Hang played a wall pass.
Beep!
The referee's whistle blew.
The camera panned to Zidane—he had been brought down by Materazzi.
Zidane clutched his ankle, wincing in pain.
Materazzi immediately showed his displeasure. "Stop acting, Baldy. I barely touched you. Don't pretend your ankle's about to snap."
"What did you say?" Zidane glared up at him.
Materazzi didn't back down. He might not have Zidane's fame, but he was only a year younger—both were seasoned veterans.
Bending slightly, Materazzi sneered, "If you still want to play in this year's World Cup, stop acting like a wimp. Otherwise, I can make sure you really won't play!"
Bang!
Zidane shot up from the turf and shoved Materazzi with both hands.
But Materazzi was a full weight class heavier.
He merely staggered a step before charging right back at Zidane.
Bang!
Materazzi stumbled again, this time looking over in surprise.
"Heh, what's wrong? You foul and still act tough?" Su Hang had bumped him aside, stepping between him and Zidane.
"Kid, you're asking for it!" Materazzi growled, lunging forward.
Thud!
Their chests collided.
Su Hang was shorter and gave up some height, but in strength, he held his ground. The two locked in a stalemate.
Both, however, showed restraint—they didn't throw a punch.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
The referee blew his whistle repeatedly as he ran over.
Players from both teams swarmed the scene.
It was the first major clash of the match.
The crowd roared with boos—
and at the Bernabéu, those boos were famous worldwide.
In the end, the referee booked both Materazzi and Zidane with yellow cards and sternly warned Su Hang.
Zidane was furious, insisting Materazzi deserved a red.
Materazzi was equally upset, claiming Su Hang should have been booked too.
But teammates pulled them back before things escalated further.
Real Madrid earned a free kick in a prime position.
And in truth, Zidane wasn't wrong—
given Materazzi's foul so close to the box, combined with his verbal threats, a red card wouldn't have been excessive.
The foul was barely a meter outside the penalty area.
The closer a foul occurs to the box, the harsher the punishment,
because football, at its core, encourages attacking play.
In the future, that principle would only become clearer, even influencing changes to the offside rule.
With Beckham and Figo absent, Zidane was Real Madrid's go-to free-kick taker.
"Zizou, let me take this one," Su Hang said as he approached. "Your ankle just took a hit—don't put too much strain on it."
"And you're pretty worked up right now. It's hard to hit a clean free kick in that state."
If anyone else had said that, Zidane might've glared—or even slapped them.
But coming from Su Hang…
"Try to bend it over the wall. Even if it goes high, that's better than letting them counterattack," Zidane replied, stepping back and giving his advice.
It was a key detail for any free-kick taker.
Su Hang then walked over to Roberto Carlos. "Roberto, I need your help."
"Huh? Me?" Carlos blinked, surprised.
Though he was also a designated free-kick taker—during Luxemburgo's time he'd even shared top billing with Beckham—
most right-sided free kicks had been his specialty.
But ever since the breakup of the Brazilian clique, the once-dominant Carlos had found himself pushed to the margins, both in the locker room and in influence.
And that was with Su Hang deliberately avoiding targeting him.
If Su Hang had wanted to make things hard for him, Carlos's situation would've been ten times worse.
In any power struggle, the losers were always erased—
no one walked away unscathed.
Except Su Hang.
That kid was genuinely kind.
Recently, Carlos had even started learning a bit of Chinese. He'd heard that Su Hang was the kind of person deeply respected in Chinese culture—
a "junzi."
Carlos proudly repeated it to himself, thinking it meant something like "hero" or "warrior."
But when he tried to say it later, he mixed it up completely.
"Yes! Su Hang is a true... skirt!"
Su Hang: ???
Su Hang: "You mean gentleman, right?"
"You line up behind and look like you're taking it. I'll be on the side and rush in first—just like you used to do with Figo." Su Hang winked conspiratorially.
Carlos immediately understood and began adjusting his position.
"Oh, looks like this one's for Roberto Carlos!"
"From here, either foot could take it. Carlos has taken more free kicks this season than anyone except Beckham."
"Everyone knows his power shots are legendary, but his left-footed curlers are just as deadly. A man with his crossing accuracy can't have a bad bending free kick."
"Su Hang's standing to the left of the ball—but he's still too green. That kind of acting won't fool Inter's veterans."
"The simplest giveaway? He's standing too close to the ball!"
"From there, he can't even take two steps back! Without at least a few strides, there's no way to shoot directly—"
"Unless Su Hang's Ronaldinho, who can blast a screamer from a standing start."
Fans loved to joke, "Ronaldinho conquered the world, but Su Hang conquered Ronaldinho."
But that was only a joke.
Even Su Hang's most devoted fans wouldn't seriously claim he was better than Ronaldinho.
Ronaldinho was the undisputed best player in the world—
not even Ronaldo or Zidane could deny it.
Beep!
Inter's defensive wall was set.
The referee blew the whistle to restart play.
Su Hang took a big step forward with his left foot—
and swung his right leg.
But almost no one in Inter's wall paid him any mind; everyone was watching Roberto Carlos.
Once they saw the tilt of Carlos's body, they'd know which side of the wall he'd target—
and those players would jump higher to block it...
Bang!
The ball took off—
soaring over the heads of Inter's wall.
And that wall stayed rooted to the turf, not a single player moving.
A flash of light gleamed in Su Hang's eyes.
The Left–Right Perfect Free Kick!
With Roberto Carlos—one of the world's top full-backs—on the pitch, the special effect "One-Step Free Kick" activated!
Whoosh!
The ball curved over the wall, leaving César no chance to react,
and crashed into the top-left corner of the net, sending up a wave of white cheers.
...
(35 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser