Volume One: Our Own League Chapter 079: Yang Hao Put an End to the Suspense

The soccer ball traced a beautiful arc, curving past the defenders at the near post and flying straight toward Yang Xin’s head.

From the stands, Zhuo Jun exclaimed, “What a precise pass!”

It was almost frighteningly accurate. More than that, the speed of the ball was astonishing—it hardly seemed possible for a middle school student to make such a pass. It was truly impressive. Zhuo Jun couldn’t help but take a closer look at Xu He, etching his name into memory.

In the penalty area, Yang Xin, charging forward at full speed, saw the ball soaring toward him and brimmed with confidence. He blocked out the defender behind him, planted his feet, and leapt powerfully into the air, meeting the ball with a fierce header.

Being taller than everyone else to begin with, Yang Xin’s jump left the others with no chance at all. He dominated the skies.

In that moment, he felt like the king under this vast sky, demanding all in his realm bow before him. He was filled with heroic pride. Meeting the ball, he powered a commanding header, roaring inwardly, “Go in!”

With a thud, Yang Xin’s forehead struck the ball solidly. The ball shot out like a missile, heading straight for Class Six’s goal.

The students from Class Six screamed in terror. No one could stop Yang Xin—if this kept up, their team would soon be finished. This was a dangerous shot.

The students from Class Ten shrieked with excitement, convinced the ball was certain to go in. Xu He, too, raised both fists in anticipation of celebration.

Unfortunately, the ball flew just high, skimming over the crossbar and out of play.

A collective sigh of regret erupted from everyone present.

Xu He dropped his hands, disappointment etched across his face, staring at his teammate Yang Xin in disbelief. Upon landing, Yang Xin immediately turned and glared menacingly at the Number 5 center-back from Class Six, eyes brimming with fury.

At the same time, Yang Xin strode over to the match referee, protesting, “He elbowed me in the waist! Didn’t you see me almost lose my balance and fall when I landed?”

Yang Xin wasn’t lying. Just as he was about to head the ball, the Number 5 defender had covertly jabbed him in the waist with an elbow, interfering with his header and causing him to miss his mark.

Had it not been for that sly move, Yang Xin was certain he would have scored. Furious, he continued to argue with the referee, all the while berating Class Six’s Number 5.

The defender simply ignored Yang Xin, turning to resume his defensive duties.

This only made Yang Xin even more irate, and he kept complaining to the referee. Despite being warned, he wouldn’t let it drop, prompting the referee to brandish a yellow card to finally quell the dispute.

Still, Yang Xin was seething with anger.

Zhu Ge stepped in to comfort him, urging him not to go against the referee. In truth, the official hadn’t seen the foul—Number 5’s actions had been far too subtle.

Yang Xin quickly turned, fixing a fierce stare on his opponent.

But the Class Six defender paid him no mind, fully focused on the match.

Seeing this, Zhu Ge sighed. The other side seemed slightly more experienced than Yang Xin.

After calming him, Zhu Ge signaled everyone to keep attacking.

Class Six tried to mount a counterattack, but to no avail. Up front, they only had Yang Hao as a lone target, making it nearly impossible to make headway. The ball was soon intercepted.

It fell to Zhong Haokun, who immediately played a lateral pass. Zhong Haokun’s ability to intercept and disrupt was outstanding—even Yang Hao found him difficult to evade. Moments ago, it had been Zhong Haokun who dispossessed Yang Hao.

However, Zhong Haokun lacked talent in attack and was clueless when it came to organizing play. Normally, he’d pass to the nearest teammate as soon as he won the ball, and any pass over distance tended to go astray.

Despite this, Zhong Haokun was irreplaceable in Class Ten’s lineup.

The ball reached Mu Yang’s feet. This time, instead of dribbling forward or working a combination with Zhu Ge, he sent a precise long pass straight out to the wing, delivering it to Xu He.

Xu He controlled the ball deftly, ready to immediately flick it past his man. To his surprise, the defenders didn’t close him down at once, so he abandoned that idea.

From the start of the second half, Xu He had noticed a change in their defensive strategy. They were no longer as aggressive or relentless in pressing as they had been in the first half. This gave Xu He more space to control the ball, so he pressed forward.

Faced with a defender, Xu He executed a simple feint, knocking the ball past him and bursting away with speed.

The defender from Class Six was taken aback and turned to chase him down, signaling for his fullback to step up and block Xu He’s advance.

The fullback rushed forward to intercept, but Xu He had been waiting for just that. He pushed the ball wide, and Zhu Ge, arriving from the center, played a diagonal pass into Xu He’s path without stopping the ball.

A perfect one-two—Xu He left the defender behind and sprinted after the ball.

He glanced into the box and shouted inwardly: “What a chance!”

He saw Yang Xin charging toward the near post, taking two center-backs with him and leaving the far post unguarded.

Xu He called out, “Now!”

With a sweeping cross, he drove the ball hard and low toward the far post.

The ball skidded swiftly across the grass, slicing through the penalty area toward the far side.

Class Six’s defenders had all been drawn by Yang Xin, convinced Xu He would send a high ball to the near post. With Yang Xin’s clear advantage, it seemed the obvious play. But Xu He had done the unexpected, catching them all off guard.

The ball zipped past their feet, leaving them helpless.

Opportunity!

On the sidelines, Zhuo Jun’s eyes sparkled, never leaving Xu He for a moment.

He truly admired Xu He’s brilliance. His reading of the game was exceptional; every move was a revelation, and this play in particular was spectacular.

While the others focused on Zhang Zhen’s late run, Zhuo Jun kept his gaze fixed on Xu He, a testament to his deep appreciation.

Having shaken off his marker, Zhang Zhen raced in and met the ball with a precise shot.

With a sharp crack, the ball flew like lightning toward Class Six’s goal.

No one could follow the ball’s trajectory—it was too fast. The students from Class Six were plunged into despair; the goal seemed inevitable.

But with a slap, their goalkeeper Wang Yi pulled off a miracle save, diving to deflect the shot wide.

After landing, Wang Yi’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Even he hadn’t expected to make that save.

Zhang Zhen was speechless, clutching his head. He’d been so confident, shooting from the tightest of angles, certain this one was in. Who could have guessed Wang Yi would pull off such an extraordinary save? Usually, you’d never see him make such a stop in any match, but today he summoned this brilliance. It was as if fate itself opposed Class Ten.

Denied again.

Xu He and his teammates shook their heads. When luck turns against you, even cold water can choke you.

Xu He roared, “Keep going!”

He refused to believe their luck would stay bad forever.

He ran into the box, raising his hand to signal Zhu Ge at the corner flag to aim for his head. It was clearly a decoy to confuse the opposition. Of course, Class Six’s defenders weren’t fooled; they continued to mark Yang Xin closely.

As expected, the ball flew toward Yang Xin, who leaped high but failed to reach it.

The defenders from Class Six headed it away.

But the ball flew straight to Xu He, sending a wave of excitement through Class Ten’s players. Seeing it come his way, Xu He didn’t hesitate—he turned and volleyed with all his might.

The team’s excitement was palpable.

But the ball soared over the crossbar.

Xu He hadn’t kept it down; the shot was wildly high, and disappointment rippled through the team.

Xu He clutched his head, lamenting the miss.

Li Jie ran over, ruffling Xu He’s hair. “Don’t worry, keep it up. Next time you’ll score.”

Xu He nodded and threw himself back into the game.

Two minutes later, Zhong Haokun intercepted the ball again and passed it to Mu Yang, who quickly found Zhu Ge up front. Zhu Ge feinted a pass to the wing, then suddenly played a perfect through ball, splitting Class Six’s defense.

It was a dangerous ball, nearly slicing through their back line.

Unfortunately, Yang Xin was a step too slow, boxed out by the defenders and unable to reach it. Xu He felt a pang of regret—if that ball had gone through, it would have been a one-on-one with the keeper.

He even thought that if he’d been in Yang Xin’s position, he would have made it.

But he wasn’t.

Yang Xin’s speed was still lacking, and his lanky frame sometimes worked against him—he couldn’t always muscle past opponents.

With about ten minutes gone in the second half, Class Ten had created plenty of chances and looked close to scoring. The players brimmed with confidence, convinced a goal was coming and that an equalizer was within reach.

Fueled by belief and determination, Xu He roared, “Come on, team!”

Class Ten attacked relentlessly, certain their next chance would bring a goal.

And soon, a goal did come.

But not for them—for their opponents, Class Six. And once again, it was Yang Hao who found the net.

It seemed almost premeditated—he lured Zhong Haokun into complacency. After successfully dispossessing him several times, Zhong Haokun suddenly failed to make the tackle, and Yang Hao broke free. He carried the ball forward, spun past two defenders with consecutive Marseille turns, and unleashed a fierce shot from the edge of the box, sending the ball into the top right corner.

Three-nil.

Yang Hao had all but killed the suspense in the match.

Watching the scene, Zhuo Jun could only shake his head, murmuring, “Unbelievable—truly unbelievable!”

Was there anyone left who could stop Yang Hao?

In this match, Yang Hao had truly gone berserk!