Volume One: Our Own League Chapter 059: I Am Simply Someone Who Holds Grudges

Now, the first match of the final round in Group B is about to begin: the joint team of Class Five and Class Eight faces off against Class Three’s team.

So far, the Group B standings are as follows: at the top is Class Ten, with two wins out of two and six points—a display of overwhelming strength. In second place is Class Nine, who drew both their matches and have two points. Third is the joint team of Classes Five and Eight, with one draw and one loss, totaling one point. They trail fourth-placed Class Three only because of a two-goal deficit in goal difference. Class Three, also with a draw and a loss for one point, sits at the bottom.

In truth, this result mirrors the situation in Group A.

Even the matchups are identical.

In the final round, first place faces second, and third faces fourth. This means Class Ten has already secured qualification, leaving the remaining three teams to battle for the last spot.

Right now, the initiative is in the hands of Class Nine. If they win against Class Four, they’re guaranteed second place and qualification. If they draw, their fate will depend on the other match. Should they lose, elimination is possible, but a slim hope remains—provided the other match also ends in a draw, and their loss to Class Ten is by a narrow margin.

For the other two teams to advance, they must hope Class Nine does not win, and then secure a victory themselves; whoever wins will qualify.

So, the current scenario is rather complicated.

But for Xu He and his teammates, it’s not complicated at all.

The players of Class Ten’s team have come to the stands to watch the match. At this point, they’re quite relaxed, having already qualified and feeling no pressure at all.

Still, Xu He can't help feeling a bit anxious. Up to now, he has no idea whether he’ll be in the starting lineup for today’s match, and he’s eager to get on the field. Lately, his shooting technique has improved considerably, and he’s keen to showcase his progress.

As everyone watches the match, Xu He’s gaze frequently drifts to Zhu Ge. He’s desperate to know the starting eleven for today’s game.

The match between the joint team of Five-Eight and Class Three has begun, with Class Three launching the first attacks.

Class Three’s offensive strength is a notch above, especially with Tang Jike’s notable ability in their ranks.

Though Xu He doesn’t particularly like Tang Jike as a person, he has to admit the opponent possesses genuine skill.

Right at the start, Tang Jike receives a through ball from midfielder Wang Jun, bursts into the penalty area, holds off the defender, and fires a low shot.

The ball rockets toward the Five-Eight team’s goal.

It’s a powerful effort.

The shot is of high quality, but goalkeeper Jiang Hao’s positioning is excellent. Miraculously, he stretches out a leg and diverts the ball out for a corner.

Tang Jike clutches his head in regret.

It was truly a golden opportunity—what a pity they failed to seize it.

Still, Tang Jike’s effort was commendable; it was a shot of the highest quality.

Li Jie remarked, “That’s why he refused to join our class team. He thinks our squad isn't good enough for him.”

Li Jie harbored no resentment toward Tang Jike; after all, everyone is free to make their own choices.

Tang Jike’s decision isn’t exactly wrong.

He has higher ambitions.

That’s fine.

Perhaps he underestimated Class Three’s overall strength. They’re bottom of the group right now. Had he joined the joint team of Classes One and Seven, he might well have reached the semifinals. The One-Seven team is just missing a quality striker.

Corner kick—Class Three earns a corner.

Wang Jun doesn’t opt for a high ball but whips in a low pass, sweeping the ball into the center.

Xu He suddenly says, “It seems Class Three is deliberately avoiding Liu Peng—all their attacks are along the ground.”

From the start of the game, Class Three hasn’t launched a single high ball or long pass. It’s clearly aimed at neutralizing Liu Peng: “You’re good in the air? Well, we’ll just keep it on the ground—let’s see what you do.”

This strategy has indeed limited Liu Peng’s influence.

It’s also Liu Peng’s fatal flaw.

He seems only to excel at headers and little else.

In this match, Class Three has clearly targeted him.

Even so, Liu Peng’s physical strength is formidable—solid build, powerful muscles—so Tang Jike suffers in direct confrontations.

Tang Jike is too slight; many times, he’s been unable to get off a decent shot under Liu Peng’s physical pressure.

Zhu Ge commented, “Indeed, Liu Peng is being marked out of the game.”

Previously, the most memorable impression the joint team of Five-Eight left was Liu Peng; it seemed as if he was their only weapon. Now that he’s been neutralized, it seems to spell defeat for the Five-Eight team.

But Xu He didn’t see it that way.

He knew clearly that Five-Eight had more than just Liu Peng. They had Yuan Fang as well—a guy always wearing black-framed glasses, but with considerable skill. Xu He had played alongside him and knew how good he was.

At this point, nobody had noticed Yuan Fang or taken him seriously. Class Three would surely pay for that later.

Li Jie turned to Xu He, asking out of habit, “So, Old Xu, who do you favor this time?”

Zhu Ge and the others perked up, all turning to Xu He.

Even Li Liying fixed her wide, curious eyes on him, clearly intrigued.

Xu He smiled wryly, not expecting such a big reaction.

He scratched his nose and said lightly, “I’m backing the Five-Eight joint team. I think they’ll win.”

Everyone frowned, surprised by his answer.

On current form, it was obvious that Class Three had the upper hand. With Five-Eight’s key player neutralized, how could they possibly overturn the deficit? Rely on Yuan Fang alone?

Yes, Xu He wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Yuan Fang—others had as well.

After all, those who’d played against Yuan Fang included Lin Xuefeng and Zhong Haokun; they knew his abilities. Even so, they didn’t rate Five-Eight’s chances.

Lin Xuefeng said, “Yuan Fang can’t carry the team’s attack alone. He needs someone to partner with him.”

Everyone looked at Lin Xuefeng, surprised by his comment.

But thinking back, Zhu Ge and the others recalled Yuan Fang’s performances—he’d had his moments, but nothing so outstanding that he stood out without reflection. It was easy to overlook him.

Zhu Ge agreed, “Yuan Fang alone won’t be enough.”

They all turned to Zhong Haokun, wanting his opinion—after all, he’d faced Yuan Fang several times and should have some insight.

But Zhong Haokun remained unmoved, as reticent as ever, saying nothing.

Everyone was used to it by now and didn’t mind.

They turned back to Xu He, hoping for more of his insight.

But Xu He had none to offer. He said directly, “I don’t have any special reason or argument. I simply favor Five-Eight. I just want them to win—nothing more.”

The group was speechless, not expecting such a reason.

Li Jie gave a wry smile, saying, “Surely it’s just because you dislike Tang Jike from Class Three, so you want Five-Eight to win?”

Everyone looked at Xu He.

Xu He ignored their glances and admitted openly, “Exactly!”

Their silence grew. Li Jie facepalmed and chuckled, “Well, who knew you could hold such a grudge?”

Xu He grinned, “That’s just the kind of person I am. Got a problem with that?”

Li Jie, Zhu Ge, and the rest eyed Xu He warily, mentally noting never to cross him—being on the receiving end of his grudge would be trouble.

Li Liying, meanwhile, rested her chin in her hand, smiling at Xu He as if she’d discovered a new world.

The game on the pitch continued.

By now, the first half was in its later stages, approaching the break. The score remained 0-0, but Class Three was clearly dominating, with Tang Jike posing a significant threat to Five-Eight’s goal.

Liu Peng had been almost invisible this half.

He was so heavily targeted that Five-Eight’s defense was under tremendous pressure, barely coping.

Class Three kept up their fierce attacks, hoping to break the deadlock before halftime and make the second half easier.

Despite their aggressive offense, Class Three didn’t get reckless; they were cautious and methodical.

Zhu Ge commented, “Class Three came well-prepared and their attacks are systematic. Their players are simply stronger than Five-Eight’s. From any angle, Class Three are huge favorites.”

Mu Yang nodded in agreement, saying nothing.

At that moment, Wang Jun suddenly changed direction in midfield, accelerating the tempo.

Caught off guard, Five-Eight’s defenders left a gap for Wang Jun, whose quick burst split their back line. Now Five-Eight’s goal was in real danger.

The central defender rushed up to challenge Wang Jun, leaving space behind. With a deft nutmeg, Wang Jun slipped the ball into the penalty area.

Tang Jike, perfectly positioned, timed his run to beat the offside trap, charged into the box, and poked the ball through goalkeeper Jiang Hao’s legs into the net.

Just before halftime, Tang Jike had scored, breaking the deadlock.

One-nil—Class Three took the lead.

All the Class Ten players in the stands turned to look at Xu He. Xu He simply shrugged, sticking to his prediction: “I still believe Five-Eight will win.”

Everyone couldn’t help but exclaim, “Xu He really can hold a grudge!”