Chapter 109 — Messi's Day of Suffering; Xia Qi Threads the Gates
After the goal, Xia Qi redeemed the "boot-polish" celebration.
Xia Qi waved to Mario Balotelli and the others, inviting them to run with him toward the corner flag.
There was a camera there. Xia Qi faced the lens in profile, dropped to one knee, had Mario Balotelli place his boot on his knee, lightly brushed the dirt off the boot, then kissed the toe of the shoe.
"This goal was entirely fought for — at least half of the credit belongs to my teammates. In those ten-plus minutes when Barcelona pressed us, the whole Arsenal team showed extreme tenacity. This is the kind of spirit Arsenal has lacked for eight years…."
"This goal belongs to Xia Qi, Mario Balotelli, Theo Walcott… and all Arsenal players. It's the fruit of team cooperation."
On the touchline, in the dugout, Arsène Wenger was electrified, engaged in the age-old dugout tug-of-war with his lifelong enemy.
Many fans laughed piggishly at the sight.
On the close-up broadcast, his expression was as calm as usual, but his trembling hands betrayed his real mood.
What thrilled Wenger was not just a goal, but that this Arsenal had regained gritty resilience and fighting spirit.
First Xia Qi's "thousand-mile recovery," then Walcott's "brave counterattack," then Balotelli's "extreme salvage"...
How could he not be moved?
When people get excited, they instinctively make gestures — football coaches included.
Each coach has his signature tic.
Sir Alex Ferguson: chewing gum.
Jürgen Klopp: the farmer's triple pump.
Pep Guardiola: hands on his head in disbelief.
And Wenger's classic move: pulling up his coat zipper — he often couldn't zip it because of nerves, hence the running joke that Wenger's lifelong enemy is his coat zipper.
Compared to that, José Mourinho and Sir Alex look like they're standing to the side.
...
The match continued.
Xia Qi's aerial prowess was like a strong electric shock to Arsenal's heart.
After play resumed, Barcelona could no longer press Arsenal the way they did at the start.
Arsenal went all out, tightening the noose on Xavi Hernández, Andrés Iniesta and Sergio Busquets.
This was a targeted tactical plan Wenger devised after studying the differences between Messi at Barcelona and Messi for Argentina.
To stop Lionel Messi you must sever his links with Xavi Hernández and Andrés Iniesta.
Teammates cut the connections; Xia Qi marked Messi — that was Arsenal's game plan tonight.
Facing Arsenal's fierce pressure, Xavi Hernández passed to Lionel Messi.
A huge cheer rose in Camp Nou — in those two or three minutes Arsenal's counterattack had been ferocious and Barcelona were on the back foot.
At that moment Barcelona needed a hero, and the obvious choice was Lionel Messi.
As Barcelona's most devoted supporters, they had a kneeling, fawning attitude toward Messi, as if everything would be solved the instant Messi got the ball.
Xia Qi and the ball appeared almost simultaneously in front of Lionel Messi.
Messi was a little surprised at Xia Qi's defensive speed but remained unconcerned.
Some people appear humble on the surface but are actually arrogant and prejudiced inside.
Last time, Xia Qi's back-leg takedown had taken the ball from him, but Messi dismissed it as luck.
He nudged the ball slightly to his left with his left foot, stopped it on his body's left side, and then dragged it across with the sole to his right foot, preparing to dribble past Xia Qi with small steps.
Xia Qi wanted to slap him in the face — how disrespectful!
At least do a feint, upset his rhythm — not that Messi matters to Xia Qi; even the real-life Xia Qi should be able to stop that.
Sure enough,
Just as Messi's right foot was about to touch the ball, Al-controlled Xia Qi smashed into Messi's body from the side.
Messi's small frame could not withstand Xia Qi's collision.
Messi tumbled like a gourd.
Beep!
Beep!
The referee immediately blew for a foul on Xia Qi but gave no card.
In fact the contact was a normal challenge — Al-state Xia Qi doesn't initiate cynical fouls.
But Messi went down in Camp Nou, you know how it is.
The referee's call didn't sit well with Barcelona's players; they swarmed him demanding a yellow card for Xia Qi.
A roar of heavy boos rose over Camp Nou; Barcelona fans were unhappy with the decision.
The referee showed a bit of backbone and stuck with his original call.
Barcelona had a free kick from their defensive third.
Xavi Hernández took it.
"Xia Qi is moving toward Messi — I have a feeling they'll clash again," Zhang Lu said, and right after that Messi received a pass.
Once again Xia Qi stepped in front of Messi like an immovable blade.
This time Messi didn't dare be casual.
He bent his knees slightly, lowered his center of gravity like an alert orange cat, projecting pressure.
Xia Qi also dropped his center of gravity but didn't mark tightly — he left a sliver of space.
Both men stared at each other like beasts ready to strike. Time froze; Camp Nou was so silent you could hear breaths.
Messi's snarl didn't intimidate Xia Qi, so Messi had to move his feet.
He tried to push the ball inside and Xia Qi followed the step inside.
Caught!
Messi grinned inwardly and instantly pulled the ball to the outside.
But Xia Qi mirrored the change at the same moment and forced his body between Messi and the ball.
Messi's face went pale. He'd felt Xia Qi's physicality before and knew Xia Qi could "eat" him — so he pulled his dribble back, but Xia Qi stuck right to the ball.
About to "lead wolves into the house," Messi made a split-second choice:
a quick drag-back with his right foot, stop!
But Xia Qi again anticipated that move.
Xia Qi also stopped suddenly and turned to press close.
Fuck!
Who braked first — me or you?
Messi never expected to be so tightly smothered; he was like a fish caught in Xia Qi's net.
But he still had ways to break free.
One quick stop, then a left-foot pull — Xia Qi followed the ball and shadowed Messi.
Messi again displayed his brilliant instantaneous reaction.
He trapped the ball between his feet and spun to play his back to goal; Xia Qi's attempt to press produced nothing.
Messi's center of gravity was low and stable; usually he could hold the ball in his back-to-goal pivots.
But this time the force from behind shoved him forward passively; he couldn't resist.
Messi felt the push from behind and tried to steer the ball left and escape, but the rear pressure prevented it.
One step, two, three or four forward… and then he rolled out like a tumbling gourd.
This time the referee didn't blow.
Xia Qi collected the ball to a chorus of boos. Andrés Iniesta closed in to wrestle, and Xia Qi tapped the ball to Mikel Arteta.
Faced with Barcelona's ferocious counter-press, Arteta turned and knocked it back, but Xavi Hernández had already read it and anticipated.
He intercepted one step earlier and stole the ball from in front of Santi Cazorla.
Cazorla immediately counter-pressed and the ball was transferred back to Lionel Messi.
Messi received the ball, spun gracefully… preparing to explode down the right flank…
Boom!
Beep!
Messi hadn't even started his dance—
once again he was thrown by Xia Qi!
This time it was rougher!
Al has no mercy and seeks perfection in everything. Xia Qi ran in from distance without easing up; using the momentum, a shoulder charge sent the slight Messi flying.
Poor Leo fell headfirst into the advertising hoardings at the side of the pitch.
"Ugh…!"
"Die you!"
"…" A string of curses rang out across Camp Nou.
Shoulder charges can be foul or allowed depending on the referee's mood.
In Champions League knockout ties such physicality is permitted to an extent.
The referee hesitated for two seconds, considered the home crowd and Messi's pitiful state, then sternly came over to warn Xia Qi.
Messi, getting up, charged at Xia Qi angrily and, head back, snarled in his face: "You're dead, bla-bla-bla…"
"You're dead" was in English; the rest was in Spanish; Xia Qi didn't understand.
Al-state Xia Qi looked straight ahead; human Xia Qi looked down at Messi.
In an instant a picture of imperial contempt was formed.
Six years later, the Taiyuan ship visited an island nation.
Our navy stood with standard posture, rifles in hand, eyes filled with national hatred — resolute, decisive, fearless — brows knit, eyes disdainful, lips curled in contempt.
At that moment the "Imperial Contempt" shot didn't exist yet, but on the close-up Xia Qi's disdainful gaze and fearless killing intent made the scene iconic.
That man in front of him was Lionel Messi — how dare he behave that way?
Fans swooned, took screenshots, cherished the image.
Messi's roar hit cotton; especially Xia Qi's scornful look made him furious, and his words grew sharper…
The referee did not pamper him; he pushed Messi away and gave him a verbal warning.
Reluctantly, Messi stormed off, shooting Xia Qi an evil glare as he left.
Mikel Arteta walked over to Xia Qi:
"Be careful later. This guy seems modest but is actually arrogant and petty."
Play resumed.
Barcelona took the quick free kick.
"Barcelona are playing patiently, not blindly pushing forward."
"A crazy-dog style doesn't suit Barça; returning to their familiar possession is right."
Under the orchestration of Xavi Hernández and Andrés Iniesta, Arsenal's back line stretched and the box began to empty.
Suddenly Xavi played a cross-field pass from the left.
The ball flew toward the right half.
There, Messi easily received the ball.
Freed from Xia Qi's "claws," Messi sprinted forward and Barcelona's other players surged too.
"Beautiful!"
"Barcelona used width to execute a lovely counter."
Arsenal's defense had been sucked to the opposite side by Xavi and Iniesta; Messi's run had a clear road ahead.
Soon he reached the edge of Arsenal's penalty area.
"Danger!"
"Messi's still on the ball!"
"Samuel Umtiti and Kieran Gibbs double up on Messi."
"Messi — cut back inside!"
"Per Mertesacker did well!"
"He cut out Messi's pass first."
"Arsenal have avoided disaster."
"That was too close. If he got the pass in, Pedro and Iniesta would have combined for a good chance — almost certainly a goal."
"Barcelona win a corner. But Barcelona isn't a particularly tall team — their corner threat isn't high."
"Xia Qi and Mario Balotelli have come back as well."
...
In Arsenal's penalty area
Players jostled; Gerard Piqué became a defensive focal point.
Messi stood on the arc outside the box.
At 1.70 meters he couldn't get on the end of aerial flicks in the box.
Xavi Hernández swung the corner and looked for Piqué's spot.
Per Mertesacker and Gerard Piqué jumped together and tangled; Mertesacker's header cleared it to Pedro's feet.
Pedro, delighted, immediately pulled the trigger.
Two dull sounds rang out on the pitch.
One was Pedro's left-foot strike; the other was the ball striking Xia Qi.
At the moment Pedro shot, Xia Qi had got in front of him.
Pedro tried to extend his leg for a rebound.
Al-state Xia Qi wouldn't give him that chance.
He charged at Pedro, popped the ball away with his toe, then pushed off with both feet like a rocket and shot out.
Messi stood at the edge of the box — exactly along Xia Qi's route.
Xia Qi took two strides and pushed the ball behind Messi, then darted diagonally through the gap, running a curve to complete an outside-lane overtake.
Camp Nou erupted in shouts.
Messi reacted quickly and immediately turned to chase.
Xia Qi went around a bend; Messi took a shortcut — they were close. If a stronger player had been in front, he would have attempted to crash into Xia Qi's path.
But Messi couldn't do that!
He could only trail Xia Qi and do his utmost to overtake.
Could he?
Seeing Xia Qi about to escape his defensive area, Messi remembered Xia Qi's "Imperial Contempt" look, clenched his teeth, and slid in hard at Xia Qi's right foot.
A sideways tackle — evil in heart and without scruples.
Messi's tackle aimed at Xia Qi's right ankle.
One second, two seconds…
At most two seconds, but Messi felt it drag on.
Finally his left foot slammed into Xia Qi's ankle.
When he felt a solid contact, Messi half regretted it.
In his mind: Xia Qi writhing on the ground in agony.
But in reality,
Xia Qi reacted as if he'd only been bitten by a mosquito — undisturbed, he surged forward.
How could that be?
Was Xia Qi an alien?
Before Messi could relish that, a huge reaction force came back through his own sole.
Already slightly hurt, Messi felt a wave of pain; he clutched his ankle miserably.
The cheers that had followed Messi's sliding challenge turned into gasps and shock across Camp Nou…
Messi, who had attempted the tackle, ended up injured!
What the hell?
Judging by Messi's pained expression, it didn't look faked. Couple that with pre-match rumors about Messi's ache, and Barcelona fans' hearts started pounding.
On the pitch, Xia Qi sprinted forward at speed with only Marc Bartra and goalkeeper Víctor Valdés between him and goal.
Bartra panicked and verbally tore into Messi like a dog.
He had no other choice.
Bartra charged at Xia Qi.
Barcelona's prayers for a miracle didn't work.
At the moment Bartra reached Xia Qi, Xia Qi used a "shoulder drop" to out-muscle and knock Bartra down, smoothly racing into the box.
Facing the still-oncoming Víctor Valdés, Al-state Xia Qi was bold, and with a deft push-shot the ball slipped through Valdés' near post and then through the goal.
A shot that went through both the goalkeeper's legs and the net!
Xia Qi scored his second goal!
0–2! Aggregate 2–7!
Barcelona was down to half a breath!
(END CHAPTER)
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read 20 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/Bankai10