Santiago Bernabeu Stadium
The camera focused on Chen Zhong.
This black-haired, yellow-skinned boy, wearing a white robe, running with the ball towards the center circle, etched into the eyes of countless fans.
He longed for victory, his fighting spirit was high, he was unwilling to settle for a draw, and he was full of battle intent.
The other Real Madrid players around him were also infected by Chen Zhong, and their expressions began to turn serious, like wild geese flying south following the leading goose, as they ran towards the center circle.
"Good kid." Schuster laughed heartily, his eyes full of admiration: "What's there to celebrate about a draw, enough arrogance, has character, I like it, hahaha."
"And that Marcelo."
"That kid has something special!"
This goal, Chen Zhong's precise interception was certainly important, but Marcelo's assist could be described as feeding the ball into your mouth and then giving you a bottle of water to ensure you swallow it.
