Volume One: Our Own League Chapter 76: Everyone Is Waiting for a Miracle

Danger! As Wang Xu retreated at full speed, fear already gripped his heart—he himself felt there was no chance. Despite his utmost efforts to fall back, it was already too late. The ball soared swiftly over his head, plunging toward the upper corner behind him.

Terrified, Wang Xu turned to glance at his goal.

Clang!

The ball crashed against the juncture of the crossbar and the post, then bounced out over the end line.

Whew!

Only then did Wang Xu exhale in relief.

He truly felt as though he had walked through the gates of hell—what a fright.

With a heavy thud, Wang Xu collapsed onto the grass, gasping for breath, his heart still pounding with fear.

Xu He stared at Yang Hao in utter shock, speechless for a long time.

This was not the first time Xu He had witnessed Yang Hao attempt a direct shot from a corner, but even now, the sight left him deeply shaken.

Yang Hao truly possessed both a genius’s creativity and remarkable skill.

Impressive—truly impressive.

Xu He was full of admiration. He himself would never have thought of such a tactic, and even if he had, he doubted he could execute it. Perhaps Lin Xuefeng could manage it, with his technique.

Xu He gave Yang Hao a long, thoughtful look, then turned to join the attack.

Spectators in the stands cried out in amazement at Yang Hao’s bold move, marveling at his audacity and skill. Praise for Yang Hao flowed like a mighty river, unceasing—many even raised their thumbs in approval.

Genius cannot be concealed.

Yang Hao shook his head, feeling a tinge of regret. He had thought the goal was certain, yet it had only just missed. Immediately, he waved to his teammates to focus on defense and not give Class Ten any opportunities.

Both teams were highly alert to each other’s attacks. They knew full well the other’s offensive strength—there could be no mistakes in any exchange.

Class Six’s players quickly fell back, resolutely defending their territory. Their hallmark was a frenzied, aggressive press—each player like a raging bull, throwing themselves into the fray. As a result, their fouls were more frequent, but today’s referee was lenient and had not shown a single yellow card so far.

This was not good news for Class Ten. It would only encourage Class Six’s defenders, making them more and more aggressive.

Zhu Ge reminded his players, “Be tough. Don’t be afraid. Stand your ground against them.”

At the same time, he urged caution to avoid injuries.

Now, Class Ten launched their attack. Mu Yang delivered a precise long pass right onto Yang Xin’s head. Yang Xin easily leapt up and nodded the ball back. It flew toward Zhu Ge in midfield, but before Zhu Ge could control it, a Class Six defender rushed up and intercepted.

He immediately played a through ball to the advancing Yang Hao.

With a thud, Zhong Haokun, as relentless as a bulldozer, slid in fiercely, intercepting the ball in front of Yang Hao and sending it flying away, almost like a shot on goal.

The ball sped away and landed at Xu He’s feet. Sensing a defender charging in from behind, Xu He spread his legs and let the ball slip behind him. It rolled quickly between him and Class Six’s fullback. Xu He spun around at once.

Accelerating like a Ferrari, he chased after the ball.

A beautiful maneuver.

Countless fans in the stadium erupted into applause for Xu He—his performance was spectacular. His speed stunned everyone; on the flank, he seemed like a little sports car—no one could catch him.

Xu He dashed forward, and seeing no one could keep up, he suddenly changed direction, driving the ball toward Class Six’s penalty area.

Was Xu He going to take them on single-handedly?

Li Jie watched, heart pounding, roaring silently, “Go, Xu He! Score one!”

He hoped Xu He’s finishing would be as precise as in the last match, so he could get a goal.

Class Six’s center back saw Xu He cutting in and rushed out, launching a fierce sliding tackle.

But Xu He seemed to anticipate it, deftly nudging the ball wide and evading the challenge, then charged swiftly into the box—an even more dangerous situation.

Class Six grew tense and anxious.

Danger!

With no choice, the other center back abandoned his own mark and rushed out to the flank, trying to cut off Xu He and block his shooting angle.

Seeing the last defender come out, leaving a gaping space behind, Xu He feinted a shot, then reversed and sent a low pass back toward the top of the penalty spot.

It landed precisely in the yawning gap left behind the center back.

There, the unmarked Yang Xin sprinted in, but he was a step slow—he could only fling himself forward, sliding to reach the ball.

His long leg stretched for the ball.

With a thud, Yang Xin made contact.

Class Ten’s supporters squealed with delight—then their joy turned to groans of regret, emotions swinging wildly between hope and disappointment.

The ball rocketed high over the crossbar—a wild shot.

No goal!

Class Ten had missed a golden opportunity.

Yang Xin felt deep regret—this was a true chance. Unfortunately, he’d failed to seize it, striking the underside of the ball and launching it skyward.

He shook his head, full of chagrin.

Yet Yang Xin did not apologize to Xu He, nor did he even look his way.

Xu He pursed his lips, feeling a pang of regret.

It had been a perfect opportunity; his pass was on point. But with no defender on him, Yang Xin failed to capitalize.

Still, there was no blame from Xu He. After all, no one can guarantee a goal with every shot—not even Xu He himself.

He simply felt it was a pity.

Zhu Ge gave both Xu He and Yang Xin a thumbs up. “Good play, keep it up! If we continue like this, we can win.”

In the stands, Zhuo Jun said to Song Xiang beside him, “Class Ten really is strong—the best team in our school. Even without their star, Lin Xuefeng, their attack is still so powerful. They’re not a team to be trifled with.”

Song Xiang nodded gravely. “That Xu He is impressive—very strong. His dribbling and speed are outstanding. Honestly, I might not be able to stop him on the wing.”

He was not exaggerating in the least.

Zhuo Jun nodded solemnly as well. “Class Ten is really tough. Now, we can only pin our hopes on Class Six to defeat them. Yang Hao—it’s all up to you.”

Indeed, all of Class Sixteen’s players were placing their hopes on Yang Hao.

They believed Yang Hao would not let them down.

Now, Class Six attacked, but Xu He intercepted on the flank. He broke past a defender, then sent a diagonal pass back to the edge of the box.

Zhu Ge arrived and unleashed a powerful shot, but the ball flew just wide.

It was a thunderous strike, the ball streaking like a flash of light—such a pity it missed by a hair. Class Ten was just short of luck.

Three minutes later, Class Ten came again.

Once more, Xu He was the catalyst. After breaking down the wing, he crossed the ball high to the far post. Up front, the tall Yang Xin drew defenders’ attention, leaving the far post unguarded.

At the far post, Zhang Zhen volleyed fiercely, but under pressure from Yang Hao, his shot went straight at the keeper—Wang Yi caught it easily.

Everyone was amazed—even Yang Hao had managed to cover that position.

Clearly, Class Six was throwing everything into this match, desperate for victory.

This match was tough—truly tough.

Class Six quickly launched a counterattack, the ball landing at Yang Hao’s feet in midfield. Everyone anticipated a dribble—but suddenly, Yang Hao took a shot from distance.

A lob from near the center circle!

No one expected Yang Hao to be so bold—no one expected this choice.

Shock!

Wang Xu, at the edge of his own box, was stunned.

He had strayed too far forward.

Wang Xu was almost up at the penalty area line, leaving his goal completely exposed to Yang Hao.

Everyone’s eyes in the stadium were glued to the ball arcing through the air; some silently mourned for Class Ten.

Xu He felt despair.

Wang Xu had no chance.

As the ball flew, Wang Xu immediately backpedaled, racing toward his goal. He moved quickly, but not nearly as quick as the ball.

The Class Six supporters screamed in delight—this goal was in the bag.

Zhuo Jun was dumbstruck.

Was Yang Hao even human?

Such imagination, such shooting technique, such incredible ball control—it was unbelievable.

Zhuo Jun thought their draw with Class Six had been sheer luck. If they’d faced this version of Yang Hao, Class Sixteen wouldn’t have taken any points off them.

Clearly, neither team was easy to handle.

At this moment, Zhuo Jun’s confidence faltered. Did he want to face Class Ten or Class Six in the final?

Both teams would be formidable opponents.

Suddenly, he felt that winning the league would be nearly impossible for them—it seemed almost hopeless.

All eyes in the stadium focused on the descending ball, everyone awaiting a miracle.

Wang Xu’s frantic retreat stood in stark contrast to the ball’s serene arc.

In midfield, Zhu Ge frowned, his spirits sinking—he knew this shot was nearly unstoppable. Wang Xu had no chance of reaching the ball. Now, he could only hope Yang Hao’s shot lacked precision, sailing just over the bar or hitting the goal frame.

Only then would Class Ten still have a chance.