Chapter 54: Actually He's My Illegitimate Disciple???
Xia Qi dribbled the ball wanting to get away, but it wasn't that simple.
Ashley Young's left-three-right-three had won Arsenal precious time to retreat and also bought time for teammates to converge on Xia Qi.
It was a double-edged sword.
Just as Xia Qi was about to accelerate, Robin van Persie charged in from behind.
Van Persie was giving his all in this match too, dropping back from his striker position to do the dirty work he usually avoided.
The two "defending strikers" were getting competitive!
The whole stadium erupted in cheers!
It was hard to imagine Arsenal and Manchester United fans cheering in unity.
Van Persie lunged ahead but found he couldn't contain the run.
Xia Qi left a little space and accelerated again!
What began as van Persie shadowing turned into a neck-and-neck race — if he didn't do something, he'd be left eating dust behind the "little junior."
At this point he couldn't worry about seniority; he grabbed Xia Qi's swinging arm and pulled him hard backwards.
Xia Qi felt his arm grabbed, yanked his arm back with force, then ripped it forward.
Van Persie felt an irresistible force in his palm as Xia Qi wrenched free.
But the delay — just one second — was enough: Tom Cleverley came in from the outside and slid in.
In Xia Qi's head he urgently warned the AI, but the AI did not stop the action.
Seizing the opening to slip from the two-man clamp, Cleverley slashed the ball toward Michael Carrick, who was on the left side of Arsenal's half.
Was it a successful interception,
or an inside-job assist?
Shouts of encouragement rang around the stadium.
Fans on both sides cheered their players on.
Carrick and Xia Qi both put their bodies into a sprint chasing the ball.
"Xia Qi and Carrick are contesting!"
"Oh! Carrick's a bit quicker!"
The Manchester United fans' cheer when Carrick nicked the ball was seismic!
You smug little— thought you were fleet and invincible, but even you have snail moments?
To be fair, Carrick was closer.
But United fans wouldn't accept nuance — Carrick beat Xia Qi, end of story!
Carrick had possession, but on his first touch he became overconfident!
He didn't boot it upfield straight away.
Instead he tried to cushion the ball between his feet and find a better pass.
But as he trapped it between his legs, he accidentally brought Xia Qi's toe back along with the ball.
The AI's calculation power really surpassed human beings.
It may have already computed this from the moment Cleverley's tackle was made.
The ball rolled out from between Carrick's legs.
Xia Qi shifted his body and slipped past Carrick.
"A nutmeg!"
Zhang Lu screamed — what had seemed like "no way through" suddenly turned into "a path appears."
Many in the stadium, like Zhang Lu, were confused and looked up to the LED screens.
Arsenal fans, used to miracles, reacted first and cried out: "Five!" "Five!" "Five!"
United fans were startled, fingers counting off names: Young, Van Persie, the ambitious one, the big guy, the invisible emperor — that's only four, where'd the five come from?
Maybe a defender?
Unforgivable!
"Evra, break his legs!"
"Evra, break his legs!"
Patrice Evra's face sagged and he suddenly looked three years older.
Don't shout!
I'll sneak up on him!!
If you shout like that, you only make him greater, glorious, righteous.
Xia Qi chased down the ball and at his first touch sent it behind Evra.
Holy cow!
For real?!
Evra's anger blazed!
All that lofty righteousness was thrown to the wind; he lunged at Xia Qi ferociously.
Not sporting behavior, perhaps, but some people deserve a thrashing, don't they?
Old Trafford erupted in a cheer, but the next second the laughter and applause got stuck in throats.
Xia Qi ran out along the sideline, looped wide, came around and entered from Evra's other side.
Evra's pouncing tiger had turned into a dog gnawing dirt.
Now,
it was Arsenal fans laughing.
"Outside overtake!"
"Xia Qi anticipated Evra's move."
Zhan Jun commented: "He's coming, he's coming — our 'one-dragon-per-match' is here…"
The November wind grew hotter and hotter in the stadium; Arsenal fans, stirred by Xia Qi's ruthlessness, stripped off coats and waved them overhead like mad…
United fans got fired up too, hissing with all their lung power to try to drown out Xia Qi's run.
Only Rio Ferdinand stayed calm; he didn't rush up in a wild blocking charge but remained in the box and gestured for cover.
His choice made Sir Alex breathe easier, and the gum in his mouth chewed sweeter.
Jonny Evans shot across to the left, while Lukas Podolski and Aaron Ramsey pushed up the middle of the box — the two formed a diagonal, occupying near and far posts.
Ferguson shouted: "Don't leave anyone free."
Rafael and Antonio Valencia immediately man-marked the pair.
Xia Qi soon dribbled into Ferdinand's face.
Behind him, the United players who had been "eaten" scrambled back in a swarm.
United fans on the terraces hissed as if sheer noise could stop Xia Qi.
With pursuers behind and blockers ahead, Xia Qi had to make a split decision.
Keep driving,
or pass?
The answer came 0.01 seconds later.
Xia Qi drove at Ferdinand; just before the collision he rolled the ball inward with a tuck, slid forward in a long stride and forced his way into the six-yard box.
He squeezed into the tight gap between Ferdinand and Evans.
On camera, Ferdinand's face as Xia Qi burst through showed not panic but the smug smirk of a fox who thought his trap had worked.
He had deliberately let Xia Qi come in.
The space between him and Evans had been narrow by design: Evans forward, Ferdinand behind; add a front-and-back clamp and it's sandwich defense.
This is the nuclear option in defensive tactics.
Xia Qi had walked into the trap.
Xia Qi tried a lateral shift in front of Evans, looking to slip left out of the sandwich.
Evans and Ferdinand refused to let the "fish" slip away; they mirrored his move and pressed forward while changing direction.
They would grind Xia Qi into a meat pie and avenge every grievance.
But Xia Qi suddenly feinted: instead of continuing left, he pulled the ball and shifted the second time to the right — a reverse move.
Evans had expected Xia Qi wouldn't surrender and had left himself some recovery margin during the change of direction.
Sure enough, Xia Qi's trick made both Evans and Ferdinand relax a lot.
In their minds,
this was almost Xia Qi's death throe.
Three players changed direction and created a rhythm difference — usually that rhythm gap wouldn't change the result.
But the AI calculated exactly that "usually."
Xia Qi's right instep dragged the ball from the outside of his right foot to the heel, followed by a brake.
The ball was deftly chipped from his right foot heel to the outside of his left foot, then his right foot tucked behind the left,
and Evans also braked hard — this was a rhythm difference not traditionally called an error by humans.
Because no one had ever proved it was a mistake.
Tonight,
the ball was struck off Xia Qi's right instep, lifting off from the outside of his left foot, skimming past Evans' right leg and flying toward goal.
A scissor-style shot!
Evans and goalkeeper David de Gea were stunned in that instant: where did that shot come from? The ball shouldn't have been over on Xia Qi's right foot.
Both could only watch helplessly as the ball hit the back of the net.
Behind Xia Qi, Ferdinand hadn't seen the pullback but had seen the scissor shot.
He immediately shoved Xia Qi hard.
Xia Qi stumbled forward, struggling not to fall.
"You little— if you keep showing off your footwork I'll break your legs."
Ferdinand lunged at Xia Qi and snarled the warning.
Players from both sides rushed over; the referee blew his whistle and ran up.
The AI controlled Xia Qi's body, pushed Ferdinand away, expressionless, parted the scuffle and walked to the goal to pick up the ball.
That act was interpreted as:
If you're going to break my legs, do it now! I'm not waiting another second.
It spoke louder than any words.
Arsenal players and fans boiled over with passion!
In their eyes: behind Xia Qi stood the ghost of the invincible-season captain Patrick Vieira, pounding his chest and roaring like a juggernaut!
"Xia Qi!"
"Xia!" (long note)
"Qi!" (sharp cry)
Xia Qi's response carried defiance and contempt.
Ferdinand, Evans, van Persie… Sir Alex — their faces drained of color…
Especially Sir Alex; he was confused and suspicious inside: can a soft coach produce hard men? That's impossible!
Could it be during that spat with my wife I drunkenly went next door to Manchester City?
Otherwise how to explain this kid's Red Devil temperament?
Actually he's my disciple!
An illegitimate disciple!???
(END CHAPTER)
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