On May 14, 2015, David Qin and his Wolfsburg teammates arrived at Hamburg Airport, their sights set on Florence for the second leg of the Europa League semi-final. Before boarding, David checked his phone, the screen glowing with the pre-match build-up for the night's other massive clash.
"Bayern face Barça tonight at the Allianz," David remarked, looking toward Kevin De Bruyne. "Think they can pull off the comeback at home?"
De Bruyne didn't hesitate, his mind already processing the tactical variables. "It's a mountain too high, David. Barcelona are up three goals; they'll sit deep and invite the pressure. With Messi, Neymar, and Suárez, their counter-attacking efficiency is lethal. Bayern just spent ninety grueling minutes fighting us tooth and nail—they're gassed. I don't think they have the legs to stop that trio."
David nodded, tucking his phone away as they settled into the business class cabin. The logic was sound. By the time the Wolves touched down in Italy, the verdict from Munich was already filtering through. It had played out exactly as De Bruyne predicted: Barcelona had absorbed the pressure and struck like cobras. Despite a late, pride-saving goal from Robert Lewandowski, Bayern Munich were dumped out of the Champions League.
The fallout was immediate and chaotic. Rumors swirled of a shouting match between Pep Guardiola and Karl-Heinz Rummenigge that ended with both men storming out of the stadium. In the mixed zone, stalwarts like Bastian Schweinsteiger voiced their frustration with the tactical setup, even lamenting the mid-season departure of long-time club doctor Hans-Wilhelm Müller-Wohlfahrt. The once-invincible Bavarian machine seemed to be vibrating apart under the tension of three consecutive season-defining losses.
"Bayern isn't the right fit for Pep," David mused, scrolling through the post-match headlines. "He needs a project built from the ground up, not a legacy to maintain."
"Forget the Germans for a moment, David," De Bruyne interrupted, gesturing to a tablet. "Focus on the Italians. Fiorentina have some wind in their sails."
La Viola had indeed found some domestic form with back-to-back wins over Cesena and Empoli, but David wasn't losing sleep. "They're beating bottom-half sides," he countered. He wasn't being arrogant; he simply felt the transformation within his own squad. Having survived the gauntlet of the last few weeks, Wolfsburg felt forged in fire. Fiorentina, he believed, wouldn't be the ones to extinguish that flame.
The following night, the Stadio Artemio Franchi played host to the return leg. The atmosphere was historic, but the football belonged to the visitors.
"Wolfsburg are playing with an incredible swagger here in Florence!" Derek Rae's voice rang out over the international feed. "David Qin is absolutely tormenting the fullback. He's reached the touchline, looking for the cutback... he finds it!"
"It's Kevin De Bruyne!" Stewart Robson added as the net bulged. "Completely unmarked at the edge of the area. A clinical finish into the bottom corner. Twenty-three minutes in, and The Wolves have their paw on the throat of this tie!"
With the aggregate score now 4-1, the air went out of the stadium. Vincenzo Montella stood motionless on the touchline; he knew his side was simply outclassed by a team playing two levels above them. In the 70th minute, David Qin put the exclamation point on the performance. Picking up the ball on the left edge of the box, he opened his hips and curled a sublime effort into the far top corner. Neto didn't even move.
0-2 on the night. 5-1 on aggregate.
David ran to the cameras, flashing fifteen fingers. Fifteen goals in a single Europa League campaign. He had all but secured the Golden Boot, though he was still three shy of Radamel Falcao's single-season record of eighteen. For the remainder of the match, the team moved as one to help him chase history. Bas Dost dragged defenders out of position, and Ricardo Rodriguez overlapped tirelessly.
Then came the pass—a trademark De Bruyne special. It was a "surgical" through-ball that split the Florentine defense like a hot knife through butter, finding Rodriguez. The fullback squared it first-time.
"David Qin! One touch to explode past Savić, he dinks it over the rushing Neto... and it's in! A brace for the young star! That's sixteen for the season. Can he find the hat-trick?"
It wasn't to be. Sensing the rout, Fiorentina began to target David with increasingly cynical fouls. With a massive Bundesliga clash against Dortmund looming in three days, Dieter Hecking took no chances, withdrawing David in the 65th minute to preserve his legs.
"The whistle blows, and Wolfsburg have done it! A 3-1 win tonight, a 6-2 aggregate demolition!" Derek Rae shouted. "They are heading to Warsaw! Their opponents? The defending champions, Sevilla. The Spaniards dispatched Dnipro yesterday, led by Carlos Bacca. Mark your calendars for May 27th—the National Stadium in Poland awaits!"
The celebration at the Franchi was brief but warm. David tossed his shirt to a young boy in the stands—Bernhard, a youth prospect who had recently joined the Wolfsburg academy.
"David! I found out! There's no such thing as dragons!" the boy yelled, clutching the jersey.
David laughed, ruffling his hair. "Don't worry about the dragons, kid. I'll bring you back a trophy instead. You can hold it yourself."
Back in Germany, there was no time for revelry. Recovery on Friday, tactical drills on Saturday, and the showdown on Sunday. The Volkswagen Arena was a sea of green and white.
"The final two matchdays of the Bundesliga see every game kick off simultaneously," the commentator explained as the cameras panned across the sell-out crowd. "A tradition to ensure sporting integrity and prevent any 'tactical' results."
The lens settled on the away dugout. Jürgen Klopp looked weary, a man carrying the weight of an era coming to an end. Dortmund had already announced his departure at the end of the season, with Thomas Tuchel set to take the reins. After a disastrous Hinrunde that saw them flirt with the relegation zone, Die Schwarzgelben were marooned in seventh—unlikely to reach Europe even with two wins.
"There's heavy speculation that Klopp's next stop is England," the broadcast continued. "Man City or Liverpool seem the likely suitors. But today, he's looking to go out with his head held high."
The sentiment lasted until the 21st minute. Dortmund swung a corner in, but Diego Benaglio punched it clear. The second ball fell perfectly into David Qin's stride. He looked up to see Erik Durm—Dortmund's backup right-back—standing between him and the goal.
No step-overs were needed. David leaned forward and simply knocked the ball into space. The acceleration was frightening. Durm looked like he was running in sand as David vanished into the distance.
"Hummels is giving chase, but he's not going to catch him! David Qin, one-on-one with Langerak... he fires! It clips the keeper's heel but trickles over the line! 1-0 Wolfsburg!"
David sprinted to the corner flag and executed a perfect knee-slide, carving two tracks into the turf. He could feel it—Dortmund's spirit was fragile. Aside from Hummels, the rest of the team had barely broken into a trot to track back. On the bench, Marco Reus stared blankly at the pitch. He loved this club, but watching this apathy made him wonder if the change in leadership was coming a year too late.
The Wolves didn't let up. In the 73rd minute, Ivan Perišić cut inside and unleashed a stinging drive. Langerak couldn't hold it, and Bas Dost was there to tap in the rebound. 2-0.
Minutes later, David was brought down just outside the area. He stood over the free-kick, glancing at the wall and then at the keeper. Snap. The ball whipped over the wall and dipped viciously into the near corner. 3-0.
"VFL! VFL!" the home fans roared. The title was within their grasp. With Bayern winning their match against Freiburg, the gap remained, but Wolfsburg held the momentum heading into the final day against Cologne.
In the post-match press conference, a reporter brought up an old quote from Arjen Robben, who had claimed Bayern would leave Klopp "empty-handed" this season.
Klopp offered a wry, shark-like grin. "Maybe we aren't the ones who will end the season with nothing. Look at Wolfsburg—they look like the champions. And remember, we still have a DFB-Pokal final to play against them. Perhaps we'll give Bayern a different kind of surprise before we're done."
The stage was set. David Qin drove to the airport on May 21st to pick up his parents, who had flown in from China.
"Dad, don't be so nervous," David said, loading their bags into the trunk of his car. "The tickets are set, the staff will take care of you. Just enjoy the show."
"Don't you dare relax, David," his father warned, his face tight with anxiety. "You've come too far to slip now."
David smiled, his eyes reflecting the steel of a player who knew exactly what was at stake. "Believe me, Dad. Nobody in that locker room is breathing until the trophy is in our hands."
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