Shanghai Pudong Airport.
Zheng Xin stepped out of the arrival gate, taking in the familiar Chinese characters and the lively crowd. After nearly six years working in England, the surge of familiarity hit him harder than he expected.
"Brother Zheng, over here!"
A voice in Mandarin called out.
He turned and spotted a man waving, hairline noticeably retreating.
Zheng Xin hesitated. "Pan Xiaowen?"
"Hey!" Pan Xiaowen walked up with a grin, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. "Didn't think you'd still recognise me!"
Zheng Xin stared, genuinely surprised. "Don't tell me the workload here is this brutal? I survived England without going bald, but you—"
The two had joined CCTV Sports at the same time and were once close colleagues. Back then, Pan Xiaowen still had a thick head of hair. Now, it was… a memory.
Pan Xiaowen rubbed his scalp helplessly. "Genetics. Male pattern baldness. Can't fight family history."
After exchanging a few laughs, he led Zheng Xin toward the car park.
As they left the airport, World Cup billboards filled both sides of the road. On giant LED screens, clips from the China National Team's exploits played on loop.
Wang Yi, Kai, Chen Man, and Kairui appeared repeatedly — highlights of their European performances flashing across the skyline.
Zheng Xin watched, a smile naturally forming.
From the driver's seat, Pan Xiaowen glanced over. "This World Cup is going to be something. We used to pin everything on Wang Yi and hope he'd work some magic up front. But now? With Chen Man, Fernando, and Kai stepping up, things look completely different. The knockout stage doesn't sound so impossible anymore."
"A Premier League midfielder, a Ligue 1 forward, a top winger from Portugal, and a defender holding down the back line in La Liga… We wouldn't have dared to dream of this ten years ago."
He let out a low whistle. "That run in 2002 opened the door. Just over a decade later, and they're all making a name for themselves."
Zheng Xin nodded. "Yeah. This is the most exciting World Cup we've had since 2002."
A massive billboard came into view.
"Giants Rising. Break Through the Group Stage."
...
The Beijing Capital Airport was overflowing with fans and reporters. Overseas-based National Team players were flying in one after another for pre-World Cup preparations and warm-up matches.
The federation had arranged three friendlies — Japan, Italy, and Russia — each in a different city. After that, the squad would depart for Brazil for the 2014 World Cup.
The excitement was unparalleled.
Wang Yi, Kai, Chen Man, Fernando, Guo Liang, and Yu Hao — all would be part of the final squad.
Veteran coach Liu Hongbo had already confirmed they would build an entirely new tactical system centred around Kai.
Nothing official had been released yet, but Kai's involvement alone stirred up massive anticipation.
For years, China struggled with a weak midfield. Even with Wang Yi up front, they lacked the link between defence and attack. The midfield couldn't supply enough service, forcing Wang Yi to constantly drop deep just to touch the ball.
It weighed him down. His talent was undeniable, but he was operating from uncomfortable positions, always having to do too much.
Now, the picture was different.
On the wing was Chen Man. Technically average, but blisteringly fast and surprisingly effective in Portugal and the Champions League.
Liu Kairui had become a defensive anchor in La Liga.
And at the heart of the side stood Kai — the stabilising force China had long been desperate for.
A Premier League Champion-level midfield core.
In the past, Guo Liang and Yu Hao formed the midfield pairing. Both were overseas players, but when stacked against Europe's elite, the gap was obvious.
Kai changed that instantly.
Elite tackling and interceptions.
Sharp vision and organisational presence.
Physical strength that held up even against European midfields.
For the first time, Chinese fans truly believed they could finally scrap a knockout appearance.
They were fired up.
They had waited nearly a year to see Kai in China — his injury had kept him out of last year's crucial qualifier — and now, all their hopes were pinned on this World Cup.
They wanted to see a full-strength China Team.
Now, at long last, that moment had arrived.
The airport hall was packed to the brim.
Fans and reporters crowded behind the barriers, all waiting eagerly in front of a cordoned-off passage reserved for the overseas players.
Two members of the National Team's reception staff stood at the front. Head coach Liu Hongbo was not present.
Soon, a stir rippled through the crowd.
"They're here! They're here!"
"Who is it?"
"Move up, quick!"
The crowd surged forward, though security staff managed to keep things under control.
Everyone craned their necks toward the exit.
A figure appeared: jet-black hair styled sharply upward, dark green polo shirt with the collar raised, sunglasses on, suitcase rolling behind him.
"Wang Yi!!"
The first out was the captain and centre-forward of the China Team, Wang Yi.
The hall erupted. Wang Yi looked toward the flashing cameras, gave the fans a wave, and strode toward the reception staff.
"Brother Zhang!"
"Team Leader Fan!"
Wang Yi grinned, opening his arms as he greeted the two with warm hugs.
Zhang Chen chuckled, giving Wang Yi a firm pat on the shoulder. "You've been putting in the work—you look a lot stronger!"
Wang Yi laughed. "Put in some extra sessions, but still not enough."
Team Leader Fan smiled alongside him. "How's the body holding up? No lingering issues?"
"No worries." Wang Yi shook his head. "Had a full check-up before flying out."
"You'll do another one once we get back," Fan reminded.
"Alright."
"Heading back now or waiting for the others?" Zhang Chen asked.
Wang Yi thought for a second. "Are the rest landing around this time?"
"Roughly. The flights for you, Guo Liang, Yu Hao, Liu Kairui, Chen Man, and Kai are all among the last arrivals."
"The flights aligned that perfectly?" Wang Yi raised an eyebrow.
"You could call it a coincidence. Chen Man and Kai are even on the same flight."
Wang Yi nodded. "Then I'll wait for everyone. Let's head back together."
"Good." Team Leader Fan agreed; another round trip was the last thing he wanted.
About an hour later, Guo Liang and Yu Hao appeared.
The two midfielders had always been compared—similar build, similar height, even slightly similar looks.
Having spent their recent seasons training their physiques, both had bulked up noticeably. Even compared to Wang Yi, they looked a touch sturdier.
They exchanged greetings with the reception staff, agreed to wait for the others, and boarded the bus.
Wang Yi greeted his teammates with enthusiasm, catching up with them immediately.
Half an hour passed before a rough, gravelly voice boomed from the exit.
"Oh my—look at all these people! What a welcome!"
The funny-sounding foreign accent gave him away instantly: Fernando Kairui.
He stepped out in a mismatched collection of designer pieces—expensive. A bag tucked under his arm, leather jacket, he strutted as if he owned the terminal.
Zhang Chen and Fan exchanged helpless smiles.
"The broadcasters are filming—don't make a spectacle of yourself," Fan muttered.
Kairui looked genuinely confused. "Embarrassing? This? No way."
He tugged at his sequined jacket. "I'm setting trends."
"It's mid-summer, and you're dressed in that much leather," Zhang Chen groaned. "Trying to hyperthermia?"
Kairui looked down at the jacket. "You don't think it suits me?"
"Do you think it suits you?" Zhang Chen shot back.
"Well…" Kairui gave it another shake. "It's… flashy. But not bad!"
Fan sighed. "Just get on the bus."
"No interview? I rehearsed my answers!" Kairui protested.
"You'll have plenty of chances later," Zhang Chen said, half-defeated as he ushered him along.
"Deal!" Kairui gave a thumbs-up before swaggering away again.
Another hour passed.
And finally, the man fans and reporters had been waiting for most—stepped into the arrivals hall.
...
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