Chapter 94: An Unexpected Ending

"The atmosphere was getting more and more explosive."

Sitting on the bench, Zidane watched the two sides on the pitch and could not help frowning. He wondered whether he ought to make a few substitutions; otherwise, if the match grew too heated, someone might get hurt.

He was still weighing that decision when the game suddenly changed. Dai Zhiwei received another pass from the back line in the attacking third.

When Dai Zhiwei faced Ramos again, he had already made up his mind to run right through him.

This match had given him an unprecedented thrill. On one hand, his opponent was strong and famous, the kind of player it felt rewarding to beat; on the other, Ramos had shown himself to have a truly miserable character, so defeating him carried the satisfaction of vengeance.

Watching Dai Zhiwei roll the ball beneath his feet with unhurried calm, Ramos adjusted his stance with equal care. Against a man with such explosive first steps and such physical strength, it was no easy task. Tackle him too tightly, and he would burst through; leave him too much space, and he would have room to pass or shoot from distance. A troublesome opponent indeed.

The last time Ramos had faced someone who gave him this feeling, those men were all at Barcelona now.

To defend Dai Zhiwei, Ramos could only crowd him as closely as possible, using his hands to lean and nudge, while keeping his feet ready to steal the ball at any moment.

Dai Zhiwei knew Ramos was an old hand in the league, and that even his favorite feint had been dispossessed before. So this time he decided to go straight at him, to settle it with body and speed.

The moment Dai Zhiwei nudged the ball to the left, Ramos knew he was about to break through. The thought had barely formed in his mind when Dai Zhiwei was already driving forward. Ramos immediately pressed in, trying to force him outward.

Compared with the broad-shouldered Ramos, Dai Zhiwei was truly slight. With just a bit of force, he was shoved off his line.

"Damn bull!" Dai Zhiwei cursed. Then, with a sudden stop, he shook Ramos loose by a step, planted his left foot just to the right of the arc at the edge of the box, and followed with a furious right-footed drive.

But the instant he struck the ball, he knew it was gone.

As expected, the shot soared high, sailing cleanly over the crossbar without even rattling the frame, and flew straight out of play.

Dai Zhiwei shook his head in frustration and slowly retreated. He believed everything before the finish had been excellent; the dribble, the escape, all of it. Only the final shot had been rushed because he feared Ramos might block it, and as a result he had failed to keep the ball down. What a pity.

"Hm?"

Just as the television cameras were still replaying the attempt, Dai Zhiwei, who had been backing away, suddenly stopped, turned around, and looked at the man behind him with open irritation.

It was Ramos, who had been tangled up with him all match long. His lips were moving as he hurled something at him. For a moment, the air on the pitch seemed to freeze, and everyone stared at Dai Zhiwei and Ramos.

What exactly had Ramos said?

Dai Zhiwei no longer cared to remember the filth that man had spat at him. But at that moment he finally understood why Zidane had headbutted Materazzi at the World Cup, and why Anthony had wanted to chase down Garnett for a one-on-one after the game. Trash talk like that was simply disgusting.

"Say that again if you dare!" Dai Zhiwei barked, stepping toward Ramos with his fists clenched tight.

If Ramos kept it up, he would not mind teaching him a lesson with those fists.

Ramos only looked crude on the surface; in truth, he was highly shrewd. Seeing Dai Zhiwei explode with fury, he made no further move. He merely gave two haughty, mocking laughs.

"Dirty coward!"

Dai Zhiwei glared at him and cursed, then fell silent.

He knew that if he really threw a punch, he would surely be sent off with a red card and then handed a suspension on top of it. At that point the backlash at home would be merciless.

Chinese football's image was already dark enough. He did not want to add another stain to that filthy pool.

Unfortunately, most Chinese players did not possess such restraint.

Villarreal broke forward again. In the attack, the substitute Dos Santos sent in a high cross from the wing. Dai Zhiwei turned and sprinted straight toward the landing point of the ball, only to find Ramos standing exactly in his path.

Dai Zhiwei now had his strength and speed at their peak. As he hurtled toward Ramos like a charging beast, Ramos was already frightened. But as the team's center back, how could he abandon his position?

Seeing Dai Zhiwei come crashing in, Ramos gritted his teeth, stamped his foot, and leaped high to meet the ball, preparing to head it clear.

Dai Zhiwei was still turning his head toward the incoming ball and had not noticed Ramos rising in front of him.

The sheer momentum, combined with Dai Zhiwei's speed and power, all came together in that one collision.

Ramos was already in the air, straining to adjust his body so he could reach the ball before Dai Zhiwei. By the time he felt the wind on his face, it was too late. Dai Zhiwei's forehead was already driving straight toward the bridge of his nose.

Crack.

Dai Zhiwei only felt a sharp pain at the top of his head. Fortunately, that was the hard part of the forehead, and after a couple of throbs the pain began to fade. Ramos, however, collapsed to the turf with a heavy thud.

Blood streamed across Ramos's face. He was dazed, his nose obviously displaced.

If Ramos had not still been conscious, Dai Zhiwei would have thought he had killed a man.

"Doctor! Doctor!" Navas, the Real Madrid goalkeeper, shouted at the sight of Ramos's misery. The referee immediately blew the whistle and halted the match.

It was clear that with his nose broken, Ramos would play no further part in the game.

Satisfied?

Seeing Ramos injured and forced off, Dai Zhiwei felt no joy at all. Instead, he felt a kind of heaviness.

Professional athletes feared injury above all else. After all, this sort of disaster was beyond one's control, and every normal player could sympathize with it.

Silently watching the Real Madrid medical staff help Ramos to the sideline, Dai Zhiwei suddenly felt a chill across the bridge of his nose. He touched it with his hand. There was blood.

"Don't tell me that's Ramos's blood?"

He immediately touched the center of his own brow and found a cut at the outer edge of his right eyebrow. Blood was already seeping out and quickly running down onto the bridge of his nose.

"I got hurt too?"

Before the Real Madrid doctors had even left the field, Villarreal's medical staff had already rushed on.

After a simple dressing of the wound, Dai Zhiwei repeatedly insisted that he could still go on. But Marcelino still took him off at once.

No one could have imagined that these two opponents, who had been colliding with each other from the opening whistle, would end up leaving the pitch at the same time in such a manner.

As Dai Zhiwei passed Marcelino on his way off, Marcelino said nothing. He merely patted him on the shoulder. In the stands, many Real Madrid supporters rose to their feet and answered with waves of jeers and relentless raised middle fingers.

It was easy to predict that from this moment on, Dai Zhiwei would be placed high on the list of players most hated by Real Madrid fans.

In the marquee clash between Villarreal and Real Madrid, in the 74th minute Soldado replaced Dai Zhiwei, and Pepe came on for the injured Ramos. Soon afterward, Trigueros unleashed a left-footed drive from 22 yards, only for Navas to gather it safely.

Real Madrid, with the extra man, kept missing chances. In the 81st minute, the newly introduced Isco slipped a through ball to Ronaldo, but from two yards on the right side of the box he dragged his shot wide of the near post.

Three minutes later, Marcelo crossed from the right, and James Rodriguez rose to head from 12 yards, but the effort went just over the bar.

Real Madrid finally turned the match around in the 87th minute. Benzema played a through ball, Danilo crossed from the right, and Modric slid in to finish from 12 yards out. Three to two.

Although Villarreal tried to launch a late wave of counterattacks in the remaining minutes, their long spell of playing with a numerical disadvantage had drained them completely. In the end, they had to accept a narrow defeat at the Bernabeu.

With this victory, Real Madrid recorded eight straight league wins and still trailed the leaders by only one point.

Villarreal, meanwhile, had reduced the gap to the fifth-placed team behind them to just eight points, a margin far from secure.

After the match, Dai Zhiwei, with his brace and the injury he had inflicted on Ramos, naturally became the focus of the media, even overshadowing Ronaldo as the headline figure of the night.

Having received Marcelino's subtle warning beforehand, Dai Zhiwei flatly insisted to reporters that he had not intended to injure Ramos. Which, of course, was the truth.

Not long after the match ended, word also came from the hospital that Ramos had suffered a broken nose and would need at least two weeks to recover.

After answering questions from a few domestic outlets and the Villarreal press with whom he was on good terms, Dai Zhiwei ignored the provocations of the Madrid media and left the Bernabeu with the team.

As for sending a text to ask after Ramos, that was absolutely not something Dai Zhiwei would ever do. After all, in a previous life, when he had injured Salah by dirty means, he had shown not the slightest trace of shame.

"I suppose this counts as giving him a taste of his own medicine."