Volume One: Our Own League Chapter 49: Football Is All About the Team

There was no substitution; Xu He returned to the bench and sat back down. Deng Ning was astonished. “What’s going on? Aren’t you going to play?”

The others on the bench shot him sharp looks, with someone even tugging at Deng Ning to remind him. Deng Ning glanced at Yang Xin on the field and suddenly understood. At the same time, he realized the insensitivity of his comment. Hadn’t he just rubbed salt into Xu He’s wound?

Feeling awkward, Deng Ning stammered an apology. “S-sorry!”

Xu He smiled and waved it off. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You haven’t done anything wrong to me.”

Deng Ning grimaced, uncertain what to say. Xu He patted him reassuringly. “Don’t overthink it. I’m fine. Let’s just cheer for our team and hope they win this match.”

Seeing that Xu He truly didn’t mind, Deng Ning and the others quickly agreed, “Yes, let’s support our team and go for victory.”

If Class Ten’s soccer team won this match, they would essentially secure a spot in the semifinals. This game was crucial for them. No wonder the coach had been so quick to consider substitutions earlier—it was clear they placed great importance on this match, determined to win it.

But now, they had decided against making any changes. Xu He said, “Let’s cheer wholeheartedly for the team!”

No sooner had he sat down than Xu He sprang up again, shouting encouragement from the sidelines.

In the stands, Li Liying’s brows knitted with worry. “They’re really not substituting Xu He?” she wondered anxiously, fearing this would be a heavy blow for him. She thought Zhu Ge and the others were being inconsiderate—how could they treat Xu He this way? Wasn’t this just hurting him? Dissatisfied, she planned to confront Zhu Ge after the match and speak up for Xu He.

Principal Wang was equally puzzled. “Why aren’t they making the substitution?” Tang Qing was also at a loss. Chang Derong, not well-versed in soccer, could offer no explanation, so the atmosphere grew quiet as everyone turned their attention back to the game.

The most engrossed of all was Xu He on the sideline, darting back and forth, busier and more involved than the players on the field. Whenever play stopped for a foul, Xu He hustled to bring water to his teammates, reminding each one as they drank: “Watch your back—Tang Jike has tried several times already,” or, “Get higher up and clear it—don’t be afraid, someone’s covering for you behind. Don’t let him have the ball so easily.” He was everywhere, worrying about everything.

The match continued, and Class Ten gradually took control, pressing Class Three’s defense deep into their own half. Still, Class Three refused to concede, and their counterattacks caused plenty of trouble for Class Ten. Wang Jun and Tang Jike showed great skill and teamwork. So, Class Ten couldn’t yet claim victory, but their attacks remained dangerous.

Yang Xin, in particular, was nearly unstoppable; inside the opponent’s box, he did as he pleased. If not for his weak heading ability, he might already have scored a hat trick. Yes, Yang Xin wasn’t especially skilled with headers—just better than most—but at this school, that was enough. Combined with his height, he was truly the number one aerial threat at Jinguancheng No. 17 High.

Even though Yang Xin’s heading wasn’t top-notch, Class Ten still made full use of him; in this league, he was almost like a cheat code. Just now, Lin Xuefeng broke through on the wing and sent in a beautiful left-footed cross. Yang Xin outmuscled the defenders and powered a header that grazed the far post and went out—it was so close.

The girls in the stands erupted in applause for Lin Xuefeng, waving flags and chanting his name. For them, Lin Xuefeng was the star.

Yang Xin repeatedly threatened Class Three’s goal, making their captain Wang Jun anxious—he had to find a way to contain Yang Xin, or a goal was inevitable. But stopping someone with such a height advantage was nearly impossible.

Then, at the edge of the penalty box, Yang Xin received a lateral pass from Zhang Zhen through the middle. He swung his leg and fired a shot that screamed toward the goal—only to smash off the post and go behind.

What a shot! Everyone realized that Yang Xin’s footwork was not to be underestimated. Because of his height, they’d overlooked his skill with his feet. In fact, he was most comfortable playing and shooting with his feet, having developed that habit for years. His shooting was quite good—though compared to the freakish level of Zhang Zhen, perhaps still a bit childish.

Still, that shot made everyone appreciate Yang Xin’s skills all the more.

Watching from the sideline, Xu He frowned deeply. He’d once thought his own soccer skills were among the best at the school, but since this tournament began, he’d been dealt blow after blow, and now he was beginning to doubt himself. Had he been too arrogant before? The school was full of hidden talent, many better than him.

Yet Xu He didn’t let this defeat him; instead, it fired up his fighting spirit. He resolved to train harder, to catch up and even surpass these rivals.

Seeing Yang Xin’s prowess, Xu He felt a renewed determination. Come on, Xu He! he cheered himself on silently.

At that moment, halftime arrived; the score remained locked at one-all. As Class Ten’s players came off, Xu He immediately handed out bottles of mineral water, prepared towels, and even massaged some of their muscles to help them relax. He was involved in every detail, and he enjoyed it.

Xu He said to Li Jie, “Old Li, I think you should be bolder and join the attack more. Class Three’s wing attackers are too weak to threaten you. Not going forward is a waste.”

Li Jie pondered Xu He’s words for a while before replying, “You’re right, Xu. I have been too cautious.”

Xu He pressed on, “Exactly. Our team is clearly stronger than Class Three. The way we’re playing is too conservative—because we’re so focused on the result, we’re too afraid to take risks.”

Li Jie nodded repeatedly, convinced by Xu He’s reasoning. “Alright, I’ll push forward more in the second half.”

As Xu He massaged Li Jie’s right leg, Li Jie said, “That’s enough, Xu, I’m good now. You’d better rest a bit yourself—you might be subbed in later, and you don’t want to be exhausted!”

Li Jie had noticed Xu He’s constant activity on the sidelines and worried about his stamina.

Xu He replied, “I’m fine. Just go out there and bring us the win.”

Li Jie nodded firmly. “Don’t worry. We’ll win for sure!”

After exchanging gestures with Li Jie, Xu He went over to Zhang Zhen, handing him a towel. Zhang Zhen accepted it gratefully. “Thanks, Xu.”

Xu He waved off the thanks, then advised, “Zhang, you should be more aggressive. Whenever you get a chance, just shoot. Your finishing is excellent, and their keeper doesn’t seem confident diving to the sides. If you go for the corners, he shouldn’t be able to stop you.”

Zhang Zhen thought back and nodded—Xu He’s observation was spot on. He eyed Xu He intently; this guy’s ability to read the game was something special. With time to develop, Xu He’s future was limitless—he might even take Zhang Zhen’s starting spot one day. Zhang Zhen smiled wryly. “Understood. I’ll shoot more in the second half.”

Xu He nodded, satisfied, and then went off to help the other players.

Soon, the second half began. Li Jie clearly increased his attacking runs, surging up and down the flank, and Class Three was quickly overwhelmed. Class Ten’s strength became evident. At the same time, Zhang Zhen started shooting whenever he had a chance, putting immense pressure on the opposing goalkeeper, who was left scrambling.

In the eleventh minute of the half, Zhang Zhen received a pass from Li Jie at the edge of the box, turned, and fired a low shot straight into the bottom right corner—2-1, Class Ten took the lead.

Zhang Zhen ran straight to the sideline and hugged Xu He tightly. Xu He leapt with excitement, cheering for his team.

Five minutes later, Lin Xuefeng burst into the box from the wing and chipped a clever pass back across the area. Yang Xin rose high and powered a header into Class Three’s goal—3-1, and the lead was extended.

Xu He was overjoyed, pulling Deng Ning and the others up to celebrate together, shouting encouragement to the players on the pitch.

Another five minutes and Zhang Zhen, connecting with Mu Yang’s through ball inside the box, slid in and poked the ball into the net—4-1, sealing the victory.

But the goals didn’t stop there. Six minutes later, Zhu Ge and Mu Yang combined brilliantly, and Mu Yang blasted a rocket from the edge of the area—5-1.

That was the final score. Class Ten had won the match with ease.

Xu He never got the chance to come on as a substitute. Though he felt a pang of disappointment, he was overjoyed that his team had won—two wins from two matches, six points secured, and a place in the semifinals all but guaranteed. They were one step closer to the championship, and Xu He was naturally delighted.

After the game, Xu He high-fived each of his teammates, handing out water.

Perhaps many fans in the stands hadn’t noticed Xu He at all, as if he didn’t exist in their eyes. Nevertheless, Xu He was happy, savoring his team’s victory.

That’s what football is all about—the interests of the team outweigh those of any individual.