Chapter 111: Don't Come Near Me and the Tragedy of the Camp Nou
Xia Qi knocked Lionel Messi flying; the referee blew for a foul but didn't show a card.
The internet erupted in arguments.
Messi's supporters said Xia Qi's foul was vicious — he sent their boss flying sideways.
Xia Qi's backers insisted he was innocent, saying it should be judged like a highway law — the one who barges in is fully at fault.
"How is that not a foul? Look, Messi was launched like in a car crash… Boom — he flew out. Is this still football? This is naked murder."
"Strongly recommend banning the monk-fighter Xia Qi!"
"If you're weak, don't snatch the lane! What good comes of a Japanese car colliding with a tank? You can't be blameless just because you suck."
"People should have some reverence; stop acting so arrogant as if being Messi gives you carte blanche…"
"This is shocking. Everything that happened tonight keeps shattering my perceptions. Besides Xia Qi's B2B sharpness, Messi's innate competitiveness — it's all so thrilling. Even years from now when I recall tonight, I'll still feel stunned…"
"Can Messi's innate competitiveness be explained like that? Strong, bro!"
"…"
The polarized viewpoints didn't just exist online; they were the same in the stadium.
Barça fans hurled insults at Xia Qi: "Fighter, crawl back into your octagon."
"Monk! Executioner! Violent criminal!"
They accompanied that with hostile boos.
Arsenal fans, however, cheered in victory: "Good job, Xia Qi! You're a real man!"
"Xia, keep it up. I've hated that dwarf for ages."
"Crush them, let those La Masia pretty boys see what a man is!"
At first fans of both sides defended their players; gradually they traded insults, but Barça had more fans and the Arsenal noise was slowly suppressed.
On the pitch, Xia Qi's foul meant Barça had possession.
Víctor Valdés took the goal kick.
Barça's attack came in waves, each one more intense than the last.
Arsenal's goal area was in peril, but neither fans nor coaches looked worried — the gap between the two teams was too large.
The result was already decided; Barça's bombardment was more about pride, about getting one goal.
But Arsenal's players refused to give them that face-saving goal.
On the field, momentum waned after a vigorous start.
After denying Barça's three-pronged onslaught, Arsenal launched a counterattack.
Barça's whole team sprinted back to defend.
Kevin De Bruyne played a through ball aimed again at the forward Xia Qi.
Having lost the quick counter chance, Xia Qi didn't rush the attack; he faced the goal sideways.
He glanced back at the ball, then ran his legs around it so it rolled to him without needing to stop or trap it.
"Arsenal on the counter! Xia Qi dribbles through."
Xia Qi had barely taken two steps when Lionel Messi planted himself in front of him.
The stadium erupted — Camp Nou resounded with a roaring cheer.
Messi had been beaten by Xia Qi twice before on the same evening, but he would not accept it; that's the pride of a top player.
Amid the cheers he stepped closer, but didn't press tightly.
Though not a defensive specialist, he knew that sticking too close made it easy to be dribbled past.
He slowed, taking small retreating steps, defending Xia Qi the way others defend him.
A duel!
This scene normally appears in street football or lower leagues; at Champions League level it's rare — even Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo had never done this duel so glaringly.
Camp Nou quieted.
Messi bent slightly, eyes narrowed into slits — this was the stage he wanted… or rather, the battlefield.
Come on!
Fight!
You… bastard!
Messi muttered to himself.
On the pitch, Xia Qi ran with the ball; Messi took tiny steps back, but because Xia Qi's strides were larger the distance slowly closed.
Messi retreated to what he judged the perfect spot, then stopped and suddenly lunged forward.
Come on!
Revenge, right here, right now!
He slid in to tackle the ball at Xia Qi's feet — a straightforward frontal challenge!
However,
AI was also waiting for this moment.
As Messi charged, Xia Qi deftly poked the ball with his toe.
The ball slid between Messi's legs.
Doesn't this feel familiar?
Isn't it like a replay?
If the AI had feelings, Xia Qi would be sure his AI was petty and vengeful.
Messi's sliding tackle had come at the exact moment…
After sending the ball away, Xia Qi sprang up as if electrocuted, pulling his legs back to avoid Messi's fierce tackle.
"Messi slid in!"
"He didn't even touch him! Xia Qi jumped!"
Xia Qi avoided Messi's tackle, but couldn't avoid Messi's charging body.
Maybe the AI never intended to dodge at all…
On the pitch,
Messi took little retreating steps, his eyes fixed on the ball as he calculated Xia Qi's step frequency and stride length.
He only lunged when he believed it was totally safe.
But humans are inferior to AI in calculations.
Everything fell into Xia Qi's (AI's) calculation.
At the moment of the tackle, Xia Qi jumped — and Messi's head collided with Xia Qi's knee.
Egg against rock?
Messi's soul seemed to fly out.
"Don't come near me!"
These words burst out of Messi's hundred and eight openings all at once! Every cell in him radiated fear.
Still, Messi is a future king of football; despite his questionable character, his skill is excellent.
In that instant he straightened like a cobra; with that brace, the egg became pork — though still the disadvantaged party, he at least avoided the ICU.
The two crashed into each other fiercely again.
Messi fell backwards in a dramatic tumble.
Xia Qi's body twisted but, astonishingly, he still managed to lunge forward on landing!
Gerard Piqué nearby was dumbfounded: "What kind of monster is this? He didn't even fall?"
All the players on Arsenal's bench stormed to the touchline, waving their training vests excitedly.
"Charge! Finish them!"
Messi had been turned back again!
This was so damn invigorating!
Arsenal fans leapt from their seats, chanting: "Xia Qi! Xia Qi! Xia Qi!"
Messi looked up at the Camp Nou sky, confused about how old he suddenly felt.
He hadn't felt so humiliated since he was eight… The memory of being tackled at eight flooded his mind; that year he also felt helpless like tonight… a tear slid from the corner of his eye at the hurtful thought…
Xia Qi used both hands and feet to readjust his balance and chased down the ball.
The cheers from the stands and sidelines grew louder. As he drove the ball into the box, the roar peaked.
Some Barça fans began to leave; they didn't care whether Xia Qi would score four — they just didn't want to see the opponents celebrate qualification here.
On the pitch, Xia Qi gently pushed the ball forward with his right foot; it looked like a dribble but was actually a push to set the ball up.
In the live broadcast, Zhan Jun shouted: "Xia Qi is going to shoot from distance!"
A breakthrough isn't done with that kind of dribble; when it comes to spotting that, Coach Zhang still has vision.
Sure enough,
on camera, Xia Qi's right foot began to coil, calf muscles tensing, the instep tightening.
"Boom!"
Like popcorn popping in an oven — a thunderous crack!
Piqué slammed on the brakes to stop his forward momentum; he still wanted to talk to Xia Qi tonight about biological genetics.
Standing up for Messi???
If there were no cost, he wouldn't mind stabbing for a brother, but if it affects his life, forget it.
When Piqué braked, the ball's path to goal opened completely!
It became a white streak, spinning ferociously toward the net.
At the goal, Víctor Valdés' mind collapsed, his brain froze!
That's because when Xia Qi's shot began it seemed headed for the top-right corner.
At that moment Valdés cursed Xia Qi's power but wasn't truly panicked.
Then the next second, an absurd sight occurred!
The ball speeding through the air twisted its "waist" capriciously, and to Valdés' stunned eyes it took a curve.
An S-ball?
Wasn't that supposed to be a blast?
Valdés crashed; his mind rebooted.
A power shot had turned into a technical strike!
Valdés shouted in his head: "I like Gabriel Batistuta, I hate Roberto Carlos!"
Too bad Chinese fans couldn't hear his inner voice — otherwise they'd tell him: elementary schoolers don't have to choose, we like them both!
Valdés misjudged the direction.
Xia Qi celebrated his fourth goal in one match.
"Beautiful!"
"Goal!"
"He's gone mad! 0:4! Aggregate 2:9! Barça is being slaughtered! Tito Vilanova is going to be sacked."
As Zhan Jun's voice fell, the broadcast cut to Barça's bench.
Tito Vilanova held his face in his hands, head down — clearly he felt he had no face left.
The camera then showed the Barça stands, where more fans were slowly getting up to leave; those who remained stared blankly at the pitch, tears the size of beans streaming down in the camera's frame…
Xia Qi had made Messi cry and now had made Barça fans cry.
Tonight — the sorrow of the Camp Nou!
"My god! An inconceivable world-class strike! The second coming of Carlos!"
"Damn, another Puskás-caliber goal. Strongly suggest renaming the award the Xia Qi Prize."
"I again strongly suggest the Ministry of Education abolish physics — learn anti-football instead!"
"Doesn't anyone feel sorry for Messi?"
"Anyone who wanted to erase Xia Qi twice doesn't deserve sympathy — because of this guy's character, I've switched from a Messi stan to a Messi hater."
"Yo-si, yo-si, I get it, I'm a converted fan now."
On the field, Xia Qi stood still after his goal; this kind of doing-nothing celebration was even more domineering.
Arsenal fans shouted red-faced: "Xia Qi! King!" "Xia Qi! King!"
Messi stood at the center circle waiting for kickoff, one foot on the ball, his face dark and fierce as he looked at Xia Qi.
AI–Xia Qi faced him head-on; their eyes locked.
One second,
Two seconds,
Messi didn't hold out to the third second!
This is the typical Western cowardice!
He chickened out!
Of course in Messi's mind he hadn't chickened out — it was disdain, hauteur!
After this little episode, the referee's whistle sounded.
Messi turned the ball to Xavi with his side and sprinted forward.
He picked the ball up behind Kevin De Bruyne; Mikel Arteta charged at him first,
but Messi cleverly shifted his shoulder — the "Messi shoulder sink" — and toppled Arteta's balance.
Then Messi eased his shoulder back and sailed past Arteta.
But at the instant he beat his man, Xia Qi slid in like a torpedo close to the turf.
It came so fast it was blinding!
Messi had just beaten Arteta and had no time to evade or react.
AI chose the perfect moment!
In an instant, Xia Qi's right foot hammered at the ball, and the ball thudded into Messi's ankle.
A textbook combined play: ball and man were kicked together!
Even Messi couldn't fault it!
He tumbled out once more.
"Beautiful!"
"Fierce tackle!"
"This is a tackle!"
On the pitch,
"Beep!"
"Beep!"
The referee blew and ran over.
He bent down to ask the rolling Messi if he was okay and whether he needed a doctor.
After getting Messi's affirmative answer, Barça fans erupted in rage, shouting: "Executioner!" "Red card!"
A red card was impossible; if a tackle takes the ball and the tackler retracts the foot it's considered a good tackle.
If a player is injured, the referee has a 50% chance to show a card; in permissive leagues like the Premier League it's almost always a verbal caution.
If a card is shown, at most it's a yellow.
Two yellows for Xia Qi would equal a red, and he'd be sent off.
That's why coaches rage when their players take off shirts to celebrate.
Arsène Wenger stormed angrily over to the fourth official to protest when the referee showed a yellow.
Tito Vilanova also rushed to the fourth official to argue — he thought it should have been a straight red.
Wenger immediately fumed and turned to argue with Tito Vilanova.
"Who issued your coaching license? How can a tackle that hits the ball first be a red?"
"Messi's hurt; he can't continue."
"Did you buy your license? Whether Messi is injured cannot be the basis for a decision…"
Online and in the stands, fans of both sides argued.
In any case, Arsenal took a massive hit! Xia Qi would not only miss the remainder of this match, he'd miss the next Champions League game too.
The match continued.
Barça brought on Cesc Fàbregas to replace the injured Lionel Messi.
Arsenal had to play with ten men; Wenger quickly substituted defenders for Mario Balotelli and Theo Walcott.
They parked the bus for the remaining 15 minutes.
Fortunately the gap was so wide that Barça had little motivation.
The 0:4 scoreline held until full time.
Beep! The match ended!
"Ladies and gentlemen, the match is over! Arsenal beat Barça 4-0 in the second leg of the Champions League quarter-finals and advance to the semi-finals 9-2 on aggregate."
"Their semi-final opponent will be decided in a draw held in Nyon the day after all quarter-final matches finish. We hope Arsenal get a favorable draw."
"Congratulations to Arsenal for reaching the semi-finals! Congratulations to Xia Qi for his four-goal haul, and also congratulations on receiving the first red card of his career."
"Ladies and gentlemen, see you at our next match."
(END CHAPTER)
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