"Both teams are now on the pitch. The Netherlands will kick off first, in their signature all-orange kit, attacking from right to left."
"The Chinese side, wearing their white away strip, will move from left to right."
Huang Jianxiang raised his voice just as the referee stepped out of the center circle and blew the opening whistle.
"Here we go! The match is underway—the second round of the 2014 World Cup group stage: Netherlands versus China!"
"Van Persie taps off, and the Dutch immediately push forward aggressively. China, meanwhile, drops deep." As Huang watched the Chinese players retreat, he initially thought nothing of it—until he noticed Kai and three other midfielders forming a defensive line almost right at the edge of the box.
Is this… a full-on bus?
He quickly adjusted his tone. "China has chosen a deep defensive shape—quite a reasonable approach. Against a side as strong as the Netherlands, tightening the back line is the top priority."
A massed defense might not look pretty, but for a weaker team, it is often the only realistic way to fight for points.
The Dutch players were a little surprised. They knew that China would be defensive, but were still shocked once they saw the sheer number of Chinese shirts stacked across the box. The backline space was completely sealed off, leaving them unsure of how to pry it open.
"Back!" Sneijder called when he saw Robben hesitate on the flank.
Robben immediately turned, laid the ball back, and shot a glance toward the Chinese penalty area.
The man who had given him nightmares in the Champions League—Kai—was now sitting deep right on the edge of the box. That alone was enough to make Robben uneasy.
Van Persie shared the same frustration. He was stationed up front, yet found himself surrounded by a sea of white shirts. Every time the Netherlands tried to thread a pass, two Chinese players swarmed the ball.
After a brief probing spell, the Dutch launched a full offensive push. Their entire formation moved up so far that China was practically pinned inside the penalty arc as the Dutch passed around looking for any gap.
The 3-2-2-1-2 system allowed them to attack from all three lanes—left, right, and center—but the Dutch still preferred their wings.
Robben and Van Persie attempted individual breakthroughs, while Sneijder kept feeding them.
Robben received a pass and tried to cut inward, but the moment the ball touched his boot, a heavy force slammed into his back—the familiar presence he hated.
He immediately played the ball back. The pass lost all bite.
"Damn it…" Robben muttered under his breath and turned.
Kai was easing his weight backward again, settling into position with cold focus.
The Dutch finally understood China's intentions—they were copying Mexico's deep block against Brazil the previous night, except China's version was even more extreme.
Nominally a 4-4-2 counterattacking setup, but in reality? An 8-0-2 fortress.
China had built a wall in front of the goal and refused to give even a sliver of space.
"The Chinese team is defending with real discipline—no gaps at all," Huang Jianxiang said, unable to hide a hint of excitement.
Sneijder continued switching play while scanning for a weakness. Credit where it was due—China's defensive rotations were sharp and timely.
The window for a breakthrough was tiny.
Sneijder made his decision. He slipped a pass toward Van Persie and immediately darted into the center lane.
Kai spotted it instantly.
Van Persie, under pressure, spun away to create space. As Guo Liang and Gong Peng closed again, he threaded a clever pass between Guo Liang's legs toward Sneijder.
Beautiful Sneijder praised internally. He reached for the ball—
A white boot stabbed in from the side, poking the ball cleanly away.
Sneijder froze, then his expression collapsed as he saw the number 4.
"Kai intercepts! China might counter!"
Huang Jianxiang shot up from his seat. Zhang Lu leaned forward, muttering, "Where's he sending it? Where's he sending it?"
Kai didn't hesitate. He shaped his body and unleashed a long pass.
Boom!
The ball arced high toward the Dutch half.
"Slow it down! Go!" Kai bellowed.
De Vrij tracked the ball, confident. The loft was high, the speed modest. The Chinese forwards were far behind—no way they could catch up.
But then he heard something.
A rumble… then shouting… then panic.
"Run, De Vrij!"
"He's catching up!"
"Careful!!!"
"That number 7 from China—he's right behind you!"
De Vrij's heart lurched. He turned—and saw a white blur exploding toward him like a launched missile.
Chen Man.
His acceleration was unreal.
Before De Vrij could react, a gust of wind ripped past him—Chen Man flew ahead like a sprinter in a 100-meter final.
Huang Jianxiang roared over the commentary feed:
"Chen Man!!!! He's through!!!!"
Chen Man fixed his eyes on the dropping ball. His pace off the ball was astonishing—easily beyond De Vrij's reach.
The landing point was perfect.
He praised Kai's distribution in his mind and prepared to bring it down—
Then the sky darkened.
A shadow swept in.
Bang!
The ball vanished—headed away by Cillessen, who had sprinted far outside the box.
Chen Man ducked just in time, staring wide-eyed at the Dutch keeper before glancing at the ground to confirm—
Outside the area.
He muttered, half incredulous, "Trying to play Neuer now?"
"Aggressive! Cillessen comes racing out to head the ball clear and stop China's counterattack—what a chance that was!" Huang Jianxiang almost collapsed back into his chair. "But Superman Cillessen to the rescue…"
Chinese fans in the stands clutched their heads in despair.
They were this close—inches from a miracle.
So close to the opening goal of a lifetime.
Huang Jianxiang let out a quiet sigh. That counter was so close—if the pass had been a little cleaner, or if Cillessen hadn't reacted instantly, China might have opened the scoring. But now it was nothing more than hindsight. The chance had slipped away.
He straightened up and continued, "Even though that attack didn't end in a goal, China just sent a very clear warning. The Netherlands can't afford to overcommit. If they give China space to counter-press, China absolutely has the tools to hit back."
They hadn't scored, but the message was loud enough.
And sure enough, after the danger passed, Cillessen erupted from the back, shouting at the Dutch midfield and defense. Even after making the perfect read, fear still lingered—he knew that if he hadn't rushed out, China's No. 7 would've had a clean one-on-one.
That was a wake-up call. They couldn't underestimate China even though they were weaker than them.
"Here we go again…" Robben muttered with a hint of frustration.
He glanced over at Kai, tension in his eyes.
It wasn't the first time this guy had given him that uneasy feeling.
Sneijder's expression also tightened.
Now he fully understood why Van Persie had warned him before kickoff.
The moment he received the ball earlier, Kai had pounced, picked the perfect angle, and nearly started a deadly counter.
Sneijder had to admit he'd underestimated him.
China's counter was beautiful, but it didn't solve the bigger problem:
The Netherlands still had the match by the throat.
Aside from Wang Yi and Chen Man, the entire Chinese team had collapsed back into the box, switching fully into a parked-bus approach. They used their numerical advantage to block wave after wave of Dutch attacks, but the Netherlands still created several shooting chances.
They were rushed and imperfect, sure—but they were still chances.
China's defensive wall wasn't unbreakable.
"The Dutch are trying to carve out an opening through Sneijder's passing—ideally to get Van Persie or Robben into a direct shooting position," Huang Jianxiang explained. Then he smiled slightly, glancing at Kai, who was practically playing as a makeshift centre-back. "But that won't come easy. The moment they step into the box, China closes in hard."
"Not to mention Kai," he added. "Robben knows that feeling better than anyone."
Robben knew it all too well—he'd had enough of it already.
Every time Kai closed him down, the pressure was overwhelming.
He simply couldn't turn or shoot freely with Kai breathing down his neck.
If Kai saw even half an opening, his tackling ability was no joke.
Forced again, Robben played the ball out of the penalty area.
The Dutch reset, reorganizing their attack.
Fifteen minutes had already passed.
Possession: 85% to 15%.
China barely had the ball—they cleared it and immediately countered. Meanwhile, the Netherlands had hammered away at China's box almost nonstop.
But neither side had scored.
"This is insane…" Fernando Kairui groaned as he hoofed the ball out of bounds. After landing, he smacked his tense thigh. It had only been fifteen minutes, yet he'd run more than some players did in a half.
The Dutch attacks from both wings were relentless—there was no moment to rest.
"Hang in there!" Kai jogged over and gave Fernando a firm pat on the shoulder.
The pressure on the defending side was massive, and they were burning through energy far faster than the Dutch.
In just fifteen minutes, every Chinese player was drenched. Their jerseys clung to their backs, a testament to just how brutal the opening stretch had been.
"Heads up!"
Kai's shout cut through the air, and everyone looked upward, ready for the aerial duel.
A corner for the Netherlands.
Van Persie burst toward the ball, but China wasn't about to let him jump unchallenged.
Van Persie accelerated in a straight line toward the contest point. He would've reached first—
but suddenly a body slid directly across his path.
He crashed into Fernando, unable to stop himself.
And in that split-second of hesitation, Kai leapt above everyone, met the ball cleanly, and powered it clear. Guo Liang chased the second ball and tried a long pass toward Wang Yi, but De Guzman stepped in to intercept.
"Beautiful! Kai wins the header!"
Huang Jianxiang's voice cracked with excitement. Every clearance and every counter from China was pushing Chinese fans into a fever pitch. The tension was suffocating.
"Kai's clearance was excellent," Zhang Lu agreed. "But credit to Fernando too. Van Persie had a straight run and should've reached the spot faster, but Fernando cut across him at just the right angle. That block let Kai rise uncontested."
When most eyes were on Kai, Zhang Lu saw what others didn't—the intelligent movement that made the clearance possible.
Kai walked straight over to Fernando.
"Great positioning there."
Fernando gave a brief nod. "We can't give them too many corners or set pieces. Clear more toward the edge of the box."
Kai replied, "Got it. If you can't find me, hit Guo Liang. If you can't find him, just blast it as far as you can."
They resumed play.
But with so few Chinese players pushing up, the ball was quickly intercepted again.
Kai immediately signaled everyone to retreat.
Beep!
The whistle cut through the air.
Robben was on the ground, arms raised, and the referee signaled a foul.
Che Jingdao received a yellow card.
Kai knew moments like this were inevitable. Robben was applying enormous pressure—defending him cleanly for an entire match was unrealistic.
"The Dutch are piling on so much pressure that China has no choice but to foul," Huang Jianxiang said, voice tight.
The momentum was shifting dangerously. It was clear the Dutch attackers were tightening their grip.
No one knew how long China could endure.
A free kick—prime scoring range.
Tong Lei focused completely.
Sneijder stared at the goal, calculating.
This was well within his shooting distance.
Kai stood tall in the wall, eyes locked onto Sneijder.
The stadium fell silent—both Chinese and Dutch fans frozen in anticipation.
Beep.
Sneijder struck.
The moment the ball left his foot, Kai felt a jolt—
direct shot.
He jumped, eyes narrowed against the spin of the ball, and managed to flick it ever so slightly with the top of his head.
The ball arced upward and sailed just over the bar.
Danger averted.
For now.
Sneijder ran to take the corner.
Another wave was coming.
Even Kai felt the exhaustion of Foresight press against him—both physical and mental.
He had to track every Dutch run, stay alert every second, and keep his feet moving constantly.
His stamina was draining fast.
And the Dutch attacks weren't slowing down.
...
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