Volume One: Our Own League Chapter 060: Are You Satisfied with This Result?

One to zero—the first half ended with Class Three’s soccer team taking the lead.

Judging from the current situation, Class Three had a strong chance of winning. It wasn’t just because they were ahead by a goal; more importantly, they held absolute control throughout the match, while the combined team of Classes Five and Eight seemed unable to pose any real threat to Class Three’s goal.

So, everyone believed Class Three would win.

Perhaps only Xu He still thought the combined team of Five and Eight had a chance. During halftime, the topic arose again, and Xu He remained firm in his opinion, prompting everyone to look at him anew.

Li Liying remarked, “Xu He, so this is what you’re really like.”

Xu He’s face was full of confusion.

The second half began quickly. The Five-Eight combined team attempted a counteroffensive, but with little effect—clearly, their attacking strength was lacking.

Still, they didn’t give up. They pressed forward relentlessly, attacking and putting pressure on Class Three’s goal.

The game gradually became a back-and-forth battle. The Five-Eight team proved more capable offensively than people had expected, but when it came to actually scoring, they still fell short.

Moreover, Zhu Ge believed that their aggressive attack would not only fail to yield a goal but might actually be their undoing. As they pushed forward, their defense was left exposed—wasn’t this just giving Class Three the opportunity they needed?

At this moment, the players of Class Nine’s team grew anxious. If Class Three won, they would have to clash head-on with Class Ten and could only advance with a victory.

To be honest, beating Class Ten would be a daunting task.

Currently, Class Ten was widely recognized as the strongest team.

For Class Nine to advance, they needed the Five-Eight team to step up, equalize the score, and end the match in a draw, which would significantly improve their chances of making it out of the group.

Class Nine’s players began cheering earnestly for the Five-Eight team.

The match was tense—Five-Eight seemed close to scoring, but the goal refused to come.

Suddenly, Zhu Ge exclaimed, “Danger for the Five-Eight team!”

Everyone saw it: their midfield was completely disconnected. The forwards couldn’t track back, the defenders dared not push up, and the midfield lay vacant.

Meanwhile, the backline was in disarray.

It was a dangerous situation.

Xu He noticed as well; his brow furrowed, and he thought silently, This isn’t good.

Sure enough, just then Class Three made their move.

Wang Jun intercepted Liu Peng’s pass in the midfield—Liu Peng’s ball control was still too poor, even a short pass at this range was botched.

This gave Wang Jun his chance. After winning the ball, he feinted past Liu Peng with a change of direction. He immediately saw Tang Jike making a run and wasted no time, sending a through ball straight ahead.

The ball raced toward the front.

Five-Eight’s defenders were out of position, and the ball slipped through a gaping space between them. At the same time, Tang Jike charged through that gap, caught up with the ball, and found himself one-on-one with the keeper.

Zhu Ge said, “It’s over!”

Lin Xuefeng echoed, “It’s over for the Five-Eight team!”

The others all turned to Xu He. Was this his first error in judgment?

Seeing this, Xu He knew there was nothing to be done. Jiang Hao stood no chance against Tang Jike—though he didn’t like Tang Jike, he had to admit the boy’s talent.

Sure enough, Tang Jike calmly slotted the ball in, extending the lead to two-nil.

The players of the Five-Eight team looked ashen; many were deflated.

There seemed little hope of victory.

Tang Jike, exhilarated by his goal, sprinted across the field, slid on his knees, and punched the air ecstatically.

It was his fourth goal of the season—a hefty tally for a striker, certainly more than Xu He had managed.

Now, if the match ended with this score, Class Three would have a high likelihood of advancing to the semifinals.

This realization made the Class Nine players nervous; they would have to go all out against Class Ten, and their chances seemed slim.

Li Jie grinned at Xu He and teased, “Xu, do you still have faith in the Five-Eight team?”

Xu He shot him a glare—this guy always managed to rub salt in the wound, a true mischief-maker.

Everyone burst out laughing.

Li Liying covered her mouth and giggled.

Xu He retorted, “Of course, I still believe in the Five-Eight team. There’s still a chance for a comeback—the match isn’t over yet.”

The others only smiled at him, none believing his optimism.

On the pitch, Class Three’s players began celebrating, convinced that the Five-Eight team would pose no further threat—the victory was theirs.

Tang Jike and Wang Jun embraced, their faces beaming with joy.

They were one step closer to the semifinals.

Meanwhile, morale in the Five-Eight team plummeted. Most could see no hope; some were ready to give up. Their defeat seemed inevitable.

But then, something utterly unexpected occurred.

With the restart, the Five-Eight team launched a swift attack. Yuan Fang sprinted down the wing, breaking through Class Three’s entire flank and charging into their penalty area.

Class Three’s defenders scrambled, and Yuan Fang seized the chaos, unleashed a powerful shot, and the ball thundered into the net.

Yuan Fang had pulled off a miraculous solo run—single-handedly bringing his team back from the brink.

Xu He leapt up in excitement, muttering, “Unbelievable, truly unbelievable!”

Even Xu He, who had kept faith in the Five-Eight team, hadn’t expected such a dramatic turnaround. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Mouth agape, Xu He shook his head with a wry smile.

He hadn’t foreseen this.

Of course, no one else had either—the change was so sudden that many stood frozen, unable to react.

On the field, Tang Jike and Wang Jun’s smiles froze in place.

Still basking in the glow of their recent goal, they were struck dumb by this reversal.

So too were the rest of Class Three’s players.

They could hardly believe they had conceded so easily. It was unacceptable.

The Five-Eight team erupted in joy, swarming Yuan Fang, knocking him to the ground, and piling on in celebration.

No one had seen this coming.

Zhu Ge and the others turned to stare at Xu He as if to say, “Did you cast a spell or something?”

Xu He could only manage a pained smile—he hadn’t seen it coming either.

At this moment, Class Nine’s players were the happiest of all, roaring with excitement and urging the Five-Eight team to keep pressing, hoping they could quickly equalize and secure a draw.

Now, Class Three’s players were in disarray, their formation shattered, many unable to recover their composure. It was the perfect opportunity for the Five-Eight team to strike back—a chance to seize a draw.

Class Nine’s players cheered them on with all their might.

On the pitch, the Five-Eight players realized this was their moment. As play resumed, they attacked with wild abandon, pressing and forcing turnovers.

Surprisingly, this worked.

The relentless pressing left Class Three’s players flustered; their control of the game slipped.

At that moment, no one expected Class Three’s captain and midfield engine, Wang Jun, to make a critical error. The ball was stolen from his feet by Liu Peng, who nudged it to a teammate.

That teammate sent a diagonal pass into the path of the advancing Yuan Fang.

Yuan Fang again! Class Three’s players tensed up, their feet refusing to obey, leaving a huge gap.

Yuan Fang swung his leg and fired.

The ball screamed toward the goal, but was blocked at the last moment by a defender’s body, rolling out for a corner.

Class Nine’s players groaned in disappointment.

Xu He, too, felt regret.

A corner now for the Five-Eight team.

Yuan Fang stepped up, glanced into the crowded box, and curled the ball to the far post. The delivery was perfect—Liu Peng rose between Wang Jun and Tang Jike and headed the ball home.

Two to two—the Five-Eight team had equalized.

The stadium fell dead silent.

Players from Class Ten stared at Xu He in alarm, muttering, “Damn, how does he predict things so accurately? Is he some kind of fortune teller?”

Now they couldn’t help but wonder: would the Five-Eight team actually stage a comeback?

Class Nine’s players, on the other hand, silently prayed for the match to end right there.

And, as it turned out, their prayers were answered. Neither team managed to score again, and the two-all scoreline remained until the final whistle.

After conceding the equalizer, Class Three launched wave after wave of attacks, but failed to find the net. Tang Jike gave everything he had but couldn’t breach the Five-Eight defense again.

The Five-Eight team, for their part, tried to ride their momentum, but their offensive power wasn’t enough. Despite their frenzied efforts, they couldn’t score again, and the match ended in a draw.

Neither side was satisfied with the outcome.

Now, only a miracle could see them through to the semifinals.

Seeing the result, Li Jie smiled at Xu He and asked, “Are you happy with this outcome?”

Everyone turned to look at Xu He, their eyes betraying a hint of wariness.

Xu He chuckled, replying, “Not bad at all!”

Naturally, Class Nine felt the same way. Now, as long as they avoided defeat, they were guaranteed a spot in the next round. Even if they lost narrowly to Class Ten, they would still advance. The players of Class Nine relaxed, the burden on their shoulders growing much lighter.