Chapter 71: Plug and Play

Because the match between Villarreal and Real Betis was scheduled for the late hours in China and wasn’t broadcast on television, few domestic fans watched it. Yet, each of them could be counted as a staunch supporter of Dai Zhiwei. Whether Villarreal won or lost was of little concern to them; all they hoped for was Dai Zhiwei’s early appearance on the pitch.

In the 38th minute, Villarreal carved out another fine opportunity. The ball was carried from the right by Trigueros, flicked across by Bruno Soriano to the left, where Dos Santos, after skillfully evading several challenges, squared it into the center. Bruno Soriano followed up with a thunderous shot, but it veered wide of the target.

Four minutes later, Bakambu tried to barrel through the defense of Vargas and Pezzella, only to be whistled for a foul by the referee, thereby squandering Villarreal’s final chance of the half.

While Bakambu was still protesting to the referee, Real Betis launched a swift counterattack. Musacchio’s headed clearance failed to travel far, and Kadir’s direct volley sailed just over the crossbar, skimming it on the way out.

This shot left Dai Zhiwei feeling both relieved and disappointed—relieved that his team wasn’t behind, disappointed that the opposition hadn’t scored either. As long as Villarreal’s desire for a goal could be kept in check, his chances of being brought on wouldn’t increase much.

Admittedly, Dai Zhiwei recognized his mindset was not entirely healthy. Yet, having not fully integrated into the Villarreal squad, he felt it was only natural to focus on his own development. To help the world when one is able, to guard oneself when one is not—such was his current state. For now, Dai Zhiwei was still “guarding himself.”

Just as Dai Zhiwei predicted, in the locker room at halftime, Marcelino emphasized stability and defense above all. In his eyes, even if victory wasn’t possible, at least securing a single point was imperative.

After the break, it seemed Real Betis, too, sensed Villarreal’s lack of strong desire to win, and so the match continued in a tactical stalemate, each side alternating between attack and defense with little aggression.

Villarreal maintained their waves of offense, but still lacked that final, decisive touch.

In the 58th minute, Bruno Soriano delivered a clever pass, but Bakambu failed to capitalize—his header was heroically parried by Adán.

By the 62nd minute, Villarreal strung together a series of quick passes. Dos Santos received the ball from Bruno Soriano and fired, but his shot only found the side netting.

“Roberto’s form has dipped far too quickly. It seems he hasn’t shaken off the chill of England yet,” Marcelino sighed to his assistant.

Soldado, once hailed as Spain’s “Divine Striker,” had struggled to adapt after his big-money move to Tottenham Hotspur, scoring just 16 goals in 76 appearances—many from the penalty spot. With Harry Kane’s rise, Soldado was relegated to the bench. Last summer, he moved to Villarreal for 10 million euros, a fraction of his previous fee. So far this season, Soldado had made 25 appearances and scored only six goals—just three in the league—a far cry from his former reputation.

“Dai, are you ready to go?” asked the assistant coach. Dai Zhiwei had been warming up along the sidelines since early in the second half.

“No problem!” It was a cold winter’s day in Spain. Dai Zhiwei wore long sleeves and black gloves, with only a sliver of knee showing—no more than ten centimeters of skin exposed below the neck.

Dai Zhiwei wasn’t particularly surprised to be called on as a substitute less than ten days after joining the team—after all, Villarreal’s roster didn’t have many players in direct competition with him: either their form was lacking, their abilities insufficient, or they lacked match experience. This, too, had been one of the main reasons he chose Villarreal.

In the 76th minute, Dai Zhiwei was brought on to replace Soldado.

After embracing Soldado on the touchline, Dai Zhiwei sprinted onto the pitch. There were just a handful of minutes left, but he had no intention of simply making up the numbers.

Within two minutes, Bruno Soriano won the ball in defense and, under heavy pressure, was forced to hoof it upfield. By chance, his clearance landed perfectly at Dos Santos’ feet.

Dos Santos charged down the wing, then cut inside after laying the ball off to the onrushing Trigueros, dragging a defender with him. Trigueros crossed, and Dai Zhiwei, eager to make his mark, rose for a header—but directed it straight at the goalkeeper, who collected it with ease. Bakambu followed up with a shot, but his effort was blocked by a defender charging back.

“Damn!” Dai Zhiwei punched the air in frustration. The chance had been a good one, but he and Trigueros lacked the kind of understanding he’d enjoyed with teammates like Goulart and Zhang Linpeng at Guangzhou Evergrande.

It wasn’t that Trigueros was less skilled than Goulart and Zhang Linpeng, but simply that his chemistry with Dai Zhiwei was lacking. The missed opportunity wasn’t just due to Dai Zhiwei’s eagerness, but also his ongoing efforts to adjust his movement to Trigueros’ passes.

As the match grew increasingly tense, the 0-0 scoreline became ever more precarious—anything could happen, but neither side managed to break the deadlock. Time ticked toward ninety minutes; the score remained precariously unchanged, and the match edged into stoppage time.

At Marcelino’s instruction, Villarreal dropped even deeper. Apart from Dai Zhiwei and Bakambu, the rest of the Yellow Submarine’s players fell back into their own half.

Yet, just as nearly the whole team was retreating, Villarreal crafted their best opportunity of the second half. In the ninetieth minute, Suárez collected the ball in defense and launched a diagonal long pass to Trigueros on the right. Unable to beat his man, Trigueros cut inside, drawing defenders with him, then released the ball to Dos Santos, who was surging down the right flank.

Dos Santos received the ball at the byline, shook off Vargas’s fierce challenge, and whipped in a cross.

Real Betis’s aerial defense was suspect: their two center backs, Pezzella and Cabrera, stood at just 180 and 184 centimeters, respectively. Bakambu was 182 centimeters, and Dai Zhiwei had recently grown to 177 centimeters—no longer a liability for his national team.

Bakambu beat Pezzella to the ball, but the cross had not fully arced, and a direct header would have required a sharp angle—unlikely to trouble the keeper unless he could produce something as miraculous as Jared Borgetti’s looping header against Italy in 2002.

As Bakambu hesitated, a shout rang out behind him.

“Let it through!”

The words were in French.

In that split-second, Bakambu didn’t stop to wonder who had called out. Hearing his mother tongue, he instinctively tilted his head aside, letting the ball run on.

Pezzella, tight on Bakambu, couldn’t react in time and watched helplessly as the ball skipped past.

Betis’s keeper, Adán, had already shifted to cover the near post, his focus fixed on Bakambu. He was preparing to make a save when, to his astonishment, Bakambu let the ball pass. In a panic, Adán twisted to glance at the far post, where, unmarked, Dai Zhiwei surged in. Meeting the ball with a deft header, he redirected it into the open net.

Adán could only watch as the ball flew in.

1-0!

Villarreal had finally broken the deadlock.

The match was already in stoppage time—this goal was, for all intents and purposes, a last-gasp winner.

Adán looked up in fury at the culprit, only to see that the scorer was Villarreal’s recent substitute, Dai Zhiwei.

“Great dummy!” Dai Zhiwei laughed, pointing at Bakambu and speaking in French.

“I knew it was you!” Bakambu replied with a grin, also in French, embracing him fiercely.

Though Dai Zhiwei had been at Villarreal less than a week, he’d already made a good impression—thanks in part to his talent for languages. He could chat with several of the team’s “foreigners” in their native tongues, like now with Bakambu in French.

For the first time, Dai Zhiwei felt the benefit of playing at Villarreal. Back at Evergrande, he was always the opposition’s primary target, drawing their fire so teammates could exploit the gaps. Rarely, in the latter half of the league season, did he enjoy such a relaxed, effortless scoring chance.

Real Betis restarted, but only a minute remained. Before they could mount any meaningful attack, the referee blew the final whistle.

Coming off the bench to snatch a last-minute winner, Dai Zhiwei had laid the perfect foundation for his journey abroad.