During the high-speed rail journey, Kai and Wang Yi chatted nonstop, joking about training stories and the upcoming matches.
Before long, Team Leader Fan made his way over.
"CCTV wants to interview you two," he said.
Kai and Wang Yi exchanged a quick look.
"I thought the interview was scheduled for after we checked in at the hotel?" Kai asked.
"There's been a last-minute change. If you're free now, they'd like to do it onboard."
Kai nodded. "No problem."
He turned to Wang Yi, who shrugged with a small smile. "I'm good too."
"Great," Team Leader Fan said. "I'll bring them over."
Ten minutes later, a small interview setup had formed in the corner of the carriage.
Wang Bingbing sat opposite them, microphone in hand. Kai and Wang Yi sat side by side, with the coaching staff and a few teammates gathered around. They weren't on camera, but they were clearly invested in the moment.
Even Chen Man and Fernando Kairui, who had been dozing, perked up. The two exchanged mischievous winks at Kai and Wang Yi, silently daring them to crack up on camera.
Kai and Wang Yi ignored them, sitting properly and waiting for instructions.
This was Wang Bingbing's first independent interview since joining CCTV, and her tension showed in the way she kept checking her notes. Interviewing two of the national team's biggest names didn't make things easier.
Once the director gave her a slight nod, she steadied her breathing and began.
"Hello to all our viewers. We are currently on the train headed for Cuiabá, and we have the pleasure of speaking with two members of our national team."
The camera shifted toward Kai and Wang Yi. Both greeted the viewers with composed smiles.
"They seem to be in excellent spirits," Wang Bingbing continued with a warm smile. "First, let's speak with our captain, Wang Yi."
She angled the microphone toward him. "The first match of the World Cup kicks off on June 12th. This is your second World Cup. How are you feeling compared to the first time?"
Wang Yi thought for a moment. "The first time, I played alongside Brother Zheng. Back then, I wasn't the captain, so I didn't have as much to worry about. Now that I'm wearing the armband, there's more pressure—especially emotionally."
He rubbed the back of his head and chuckled. "Winning would be ideal, of course. But either way, we want to play our football, play with personality."
Wang Bingbing nodded. "Absolutely. In sports, there are many things beyond rankings that deserve our attention—just like the old saying: 'Friendship first, competition second.'"
With the director quietly signalling that Wang Yi wasn't the most talkative guest, Wang Bingbing smoothly shifted her focus.
"Now, the same question for Kai. What are your thoughts on the first match?"
A soft draft brushed past as the mic was brought closer. Kai took a brief moment, then answered plainly, "Win."
He sat up straighter.
Wang Bingbing blinked in surprise.
That's it?
Compared with Wang Yi's thoughtful reply, Kai's directness landed like a punch.
Seeing that he wasn't adding more, she managed a polite smile and asked, "Aside from winning, do you have any other expectations?"
Kai didn't soften his tone. "As long as we win, that's enough."
He paused, then continued, voice steady and resolute:
"This is our first World Cup match. We want everyone to know that we didn't come to Brazil for sightseeing. 'Friendship first, competition second' might work for school sports meets, but when you wear a jersey with the five-star red flag on your chest, it's no longer just a game."
"This is about national honor. We have no right to embarrass the people supporting us."
He leaned forward slightly. "Look at how many Chinese fans made the trip. We didn't come here to give them loss after loss."
"Therefore—" his voice grew firmer, "—victory. We must fight for it."
A brief silence fell. Even Wang Bingbing, maintaining her professional smile, looked momentarily taken aback.
Behind her, the previously relaxed teammates and coaches subconsciously straightened, their expressions hardening.
Still, Wang Bingbing carried on. "The Chilean team is considered the strongest in their history, with many star players. This will be a very difficult match. Compared to them, aren't we at a disadvantage overall?"
"Yes," Kai answered without hesitation. "But being weaker doesn't mean we're destined to lose."
"Weakness isn't what makes you fail—cowardice is."
"This is football. The sport is full of stories where underdogs beat the giants. Why shouldn't we be one of them?"
"No one is expecting much from us. On paper, all three teams in our group are stronger. But paper doesn't decide the result."
"Belief, courage, performance on the pitch—those things matter."
"Victory has to be earned. No one believes in us, so we must believe in ourselves."
"If we start acting timid before the match even begins, then we've already lost. At this moment, we need to set aside modesty and focus on one thing—winning."
Kai's tone carried a weight that spread through the carriage. His confidence had a force to it, something that pulled people in.
Several players who had been quietly telling themselves it was okay to "just survive the group" found their expressions tightening, their posture shifting.
Because Kai was right.
If you don't fight, how would you ever know what's possible?
The outcome of the match would ultimately depend on them. If they performed well enough, winning wasn't out of reach at all.
Wang Bingbing, however, couldn't quite read the surge of emotions in the carriage. She shot a subtle glance at the director, silently hoping he would intervene—or at least signal whether they should trim the segment later.
But when she looked closely, she realized the director was staring at Kai with the same dazed expression.
Were his eyes… actually shining?
The interview wrapped up soon after.
"Your answer was a bit too blunt," Wang Yi muttered, shaking his head. "Too absolute."
Kai's response had been direct—borderline reckless. Fans might cheer now, but if the team failed to deliver, he would be the first one caught in the storm. A comment that boldly painted a target on his back.
Kai didn't seem bothered. "That's genuinely how I feel. I came to the World Cup for one reason—winning. If I can't walk off the pitch with a victory, then in my eyes, I haven't earned the right to wear this jersey."
"But—"
Before Wang Yi could finish, Kai pushed himself to his feet.
He clapped loudly, drawing every pair of eyes in the carriage.
"Everyone!"
The chatter died instantly.
Kai raised his voice, steady and firm. "The World Cup is the stage every professional dreams of. We're not here just for ourselves—we're here for our country."
He scanned the room, meeting the eyes of his teammates one by one.
"I know the situation we're facing isn't ideal. Chile is strong. Spain is strong. The Netherlands is strong. But does that automatically make us weak?"
He leaned forward, voice rising.
"We are not weak. So lift your heads. Let's prove to everyone who doubted us that they judged us too early."
A heavy silence filled the carriage—one charged with emotion.
"Chinese football has been through too many low points," Kai continued. "Our fans have endured far too much ridicule."
The players' expressions tightened as memories resurfaced—frustrating losses, bitter jokes, helpless nights in front of TV screens.
Before China returned to the World Cup, fans could only cheer for other nations—not out of loyalty, but out of necessity. Even when celebrating, something always felt hollow.
Because none of those teams was China.
They remembered the lone supporters wrapped in the five-star red flag in stadiums across the world. The people who joked about the national team, yet cared enough to hurt. Those who waited year after year for a moment of pride.
Kai's voice cut through the silence, stronger than before.
"Our performance affects their belief. Their confidence rises and falls with ours. So we fight—not just for ourselves, but for every fan who's still willing to believe."
He clenched his fist.
"Take down Chile. Bring home our first win."
A spark lit up in everyone's eyes—then grew into a fire.
Suddenly, Fernando Kairui shot to his feet, roaring, "Beat Chile!"
In an instant, the whole carriage erupted.
"Take down Chile!!"
"We'll get that first win!!"
"We'll get that first win!!"
"We'll get that first win!!"
The carriage shook with the force of their shouts. Even the director and several male staff members joined in, faces flushed with excitement, fists pumping in the air.
Wang Bingbing stood slightly apart from the frenzy, still smiling, though a touch bewildered.
It was just a World Cup match…
Just football.
...
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