Volume One: Our Own League Chapter 56: In the End, He Bore It All Alone

Wang He, wearing a baseball cap and chewing gum, shouted loudly as he exaggeratedly dove to the side like a machine. His entire body leapt into the air, his movements extremely fluid. If one were to judge by form alone, it was a perfect ten—impressive and highly entertaining.

Xu He couldn’t help but cover his face. As expected, this guy was still the same show-off he’d always been. Even at such a critical moment, he couldn’t resist the urge to look cool. It seemed this soccer match was just another stage for him to flaunt his flair.

With a crisp “pop,” Wang He parried the ball out of bounds with one palm.

Applause broke out from the sidelines, a round of claps for Wang He. And truth be told, his save had been spectacular and dramatic, enough to convince the casual onlookers of his professionalism and earn him several thumbs-ups.

Wang He, after deflecting the ball, sprang up from the ground, spun in place, spread his legs, left hand on his hip, right hand pointing to the sky, and shouted a flamboyant “Yeah!” in celebration.

His teammates rushed over to give him playful pats on the backside.

Xu He was almost in tears from laughter. Wang He really was full of bizarre, eccentric ideas, always ready to show off at any moment.

He honestly wondered how this guy had managed to survive to this age—it was a miracle he hadn’t been beaten up yet.

Hearing the applause, Wang He grew even more animated, attempting a Michael Jackson moonwalk in the penalty area. Unfortunately, the turf was anything but slick, causing him to trip and nearly faceplant, drawing a round of hearty laughter from everyone.

Xu He laughed so hard he nearly cried. He truly couldn’t with this guy.

Wang He, a bit embarrassed, was saved by the resumption of play.

He immediately shouted to his teammates on the pitch, “Watch your defense! Mark your man! Follow up!”

Class Six’s soccer team took the corner kick. The ball whistled through the air, heading for the far upper corner of Class Seventeen United’s goal.

Yang Hao, taking the corner, went straight for a shot.

It caught everyone off guard. No one had expected it—everyone was stunned, unable to react.

Xu He’s mouth fell open, and he was unable to close it for a long moment.

Wang He, guarding the near post, hadn’t anticipated Yang Hao’s direct attempt. By the time he realized the ball’s arc, it was too late. Though he tried to backpedal, jumped, and reached out, the ball grazed just above his fingers and dropped into the net behind him.

Wang He tumbled awkwardly into the goal, face ashen.

Xu He shot to his feet, mouth agape, staring at the ball in the goal, incredulous.

Had that corner really gone straight in?

Zhu Ge and Mu Yang also jumped up, eyes wide with shock—they, too, had been startled by the goal. No one had expected Yang Hao to be so bold, to score directly from a corner.

It was a stroke of genius—and a display of extraordinary skill.

Even Lin Xuefeng, Class Ten’s set-piece specialist, was left dumbfounded, his face full of astonishment.

Clearly, the goal had shaken him as well.

Yang Hao, the scorer, remained completely calm. He didn’t even celebrate—just turned and walked back to his half of the field. In stark contrast to Wang He’s earlier flamboyant celebration, Yang Hao’s aloofness radiated an unmistakable arrogance.

To score such a sensational goal without even the slightest urge to celebrate—as if it were nothing out of the ordinary, not worth a flicker of excitement—was true hauteur.

But as Xu He would say, Yang Hao had every reason to be proud.

With such skill and talent, Xu He knew he’d be just as proud—a peacock among men.

The players of Class Seventeen United were stunned by Yang Hao’s brilliance. How could they hope to win if goals like this were possible?

On the sidelines, the players from Class Fourteen’s team turned pale, their mood growing heavier as their hopes of advancing seemed to slip further away.

Suddenly, He Xiaoke from Class Fourteen stood up and shouted toward the field, “Go, Class Seventeen! Attack!”

He Xiaoke wasn’t even pretending to hide his allegiance anymore, openly cheering for Class Seventeen United.

It was real—genuinely heartfelt.

Xu He applauded him. This guy was refreshingly sincere.

Lu Yiming, watching from the sidelines, also glanced repeatedly at He Xiaoke, applauding non-stop.

Li Liying, sitting next to Xu He, commented, “He Xiaoke is actually kind of cute.”

Cute? Xu He was baffled by her logic.

But he didn’t dwell on it; his attention remained on the match.

With Class Seventeen United trailing, how would the game unfold?

Clearly, they mounted an aggressive attack, their wingers relentlessly threatening Class Six’s goal.

Class Six’s defenders weren’t particularly strong—some didn’t even know how to play—giving Class Seventeen United a real chance. They created several opportunities, with their flashy wingers making powerful runs and aggressive attacks.

On the right, Chen Ping, with a headband, changed pace and rhythm to easily beat his marker, then sent in a high-quality, dangerous cross right onto his striker’s head.

Unfortunately, their striker’s heading ability was terrible—he leaned back too far and sent the ball flying over the bar.

Yang Xin was left speechless. If it had been him, it would’ve been a sure goal.

What a wasted opportunity.

If they couldn’t seize chances like these, what hope did Class Seventeen United have against Class Six? Surely defeat was inevitable.

Yang Hao from Class Six soon broke free again, causing major trouble for Class Seventeen United. Even with three or four defenders swarming him, he slipped through like an eel, finding himself one-on-one with the keeper.

Of course, Yang Hao, even when surrounded by four, insisted on going it alone—passing didn’t exist in his playbook. It was all about himself.

But he had the skill to back it up; none of the four could stop him.

Xu He exclaimed, “This guy is a monster.”

The others nodded in agreement. Yang Hao was simply too good—it was almost frightening.

Facing Wang He, Yang Hao curled a shot toward goal, the ball arcing past the keeper. Wang He’s reaction was quick, his dive graceful and exciting, and he even got a hand to the ball. But the shot deflected just enough to hit the inside of the post and bounce into the net. Two-nil.

Yang Hao widened the lead, taking his team two steps closer to advancing.

Class Fourteen’s players looked utterly defeated.

Xu He sighed, “Yang Hao really is incredible, truly remarkable.”

To be fair, Wang He had done well, but Yang Hao was just too good—Class Six seemed destined to win.

Zhu Ge and the others glanced at Xu He, their eyes full of astonishment. This guy’s insight was spot-on.

Though trailing by two, Class Seventeen United didn’t panic; they continued attacking methodically, threatening Class Six’s goal. Chen Ping and Chen An took turns surging forward, creating serious danger. Chen An cut inside, shook off a defender, and unleashed a powerful shot that smacked off the post and went out.

That was their closest chance yet.

A pity, truly.

It was their best opportunity of the half, but no goal resulted.

Halftime came with Class Six leading two-nil, and everyone believed they had the win in hand. But as soon as the second half began, the game took a dramatic turn. Wang He, now in goal for Class Seventeen United, booted the ball upfield, catching Chen An on the wing before he’d pulled back. Chen An spun and sprinted after the ball, breaking through alone. He bypassed the keeper and slotted the ball into the empty net, pulling one back.

Class Fourteen’s players leapt up, cheering as if they themselves had scored and won the match—more jubilant even than Class Seventeen United.

Because, with that goal, their hopes of advancing were still alive. They yearned for Class Seventeen United to equalize.

Soon, their wish came true. Chen Ping whipped in a cross from the wing, finding Chen An on the opposite side. Chen An faked a shot, cut inside, shook off the defender, and blasted the ball into the net—2-2.

Class Seventeen United had equalized.

Class Fourteen’s players were nearly delirious with joy, while Zhu Ge and the others looked to Xu He. He simply shrugged and said, “I still favor Class Six.”

Sure enough, three minutes later, Yang Hao surged forward again, dribbling past five defenders before lofting a chip into the net.

Five minutes after that, he beat two more defenders and, from twenty-six or twenty-seven meters out, unleashed a long-range shot that smashed off the underside of the crossbar and bounced in.

Four-two. With four goals, Yang Hao single-handedly carried his team to victory over the formidable Class Seventeen United, securing a place in the semifinals.

In the end, it was all Yang Hao.

Zhu Ge and the others stared in awe at Xu He, thinking, “Yang Hao truly is amazing.”

Xu He nodded slightly to himself. “Yang Hao is extraordinary.”

Looking at Yang Hao now, did anyone still find his arrogance annoying?

Xu He could only smile wryly.

Class Fourteen’s players were left in shock—Yang Hao was too much. One man was as good as an entire team. Faced with such an opponent, they had no complaints—he was simply too strong, worthy of their respect.

Even the players of Class Seventeen United were wholly convinced. Today, Yang Hao had been unbeatable. Even Zhuo Jun, the captain of Class Sixteen’s team on the sidelines, remarked, “If this is the Yang Hao we face, then we’re sure to lose.”