Master Tutoring Class

Chapter 291 Crowning Under the Stars
April 28th was a special weekend for Amsterdam.

The air was filled with an almost burning smell, a unique aroma created by the mixture of anticipation, anxiety, and the cold air of early spring in the Netherlands, warmed by the body heat of tens of thousands of people.

Wei Lai stood in the tunnel of the court, with the restless footsteps and low encouragement of his teammates behind him.

Back then, he felt as if he were inside a vacuum bubble, only able to hear the pounding of his own heart in his chest.

"The final ninety minutes! Guys! In ninety minutes, we're going to turn Amsterdam orange!"

Dennis Chilburn's roar echoed through the corridor, carrying a metallic quality.

Orange is the national color of the Netherlands and the strongest symbol of Dutch identity.

Their national team is known as the 'Oranje'.

On match days, whether it's a key game for the national team or for Sporting Amsterdam, Dutch fans dress up in orange from head to toe—orange hats, orange wigs, orange face paint—turning the entire stadium stands into a surging 'ocean of orange'.

When the Dutch national team or club achieves a major victory, fans take to the streets to celebrate, and the streets, squares, and canals of the entire city are filled with orange.

Wei Lai took a deep breath; his fingertips were numb from clenching his fists so tightly.

His first league title was just one step away.

Atlético Amsterdam, a club that has nurtured countless legends, has written its own chapter of glory this season.

I thought you wouldn't be nervous!

Musar placed his hand on Wei Lai's shoulder and laughed, "Relax! We'll win!"

The others also looked at Wei Lai with smiles.

No matter how steady or calm you are usually.

But when that moment arrived, he was just an 18-year-old boy who had just joined the Dutch Eredivisie.

"Hey! Relax, you have a really great team!"

"Just you wait, I'll lead you to the championship!"

"believe us!"

"Pass me the ball well, and my reward will be a championship!"

Wei Lai turned his head: "I'm not nervous!"

Everyone couldn't help but laugh.

Felix chuckled, "Okay, you're not nervous, but you could be a little nervous, or rather, a little expectant?"

Wei Lai turned his head away and stopped talking.

Soon, the players from both sides entered the field.

According to pre-match reports, the Dutch Football Association had already transported the Eredivisie championship trophy to the Amstel Stadium ahead of schedule.

As soon as they win the game, a makeshift championship podium will be set up in the stadium, and they will lift the Eredivisie trophy four rounds in advance.

This is Wei Lai's first season with Amsterdam Sporting!
This is also my first full season!

And after this match, he has a very high chance of lifting the championship trophy.

Wei Lai clenched his fist tightly.

"Victory! Champion!"

The team ahead began to move, and Wei Lai took a deep breath and immediately followed suit.

The moment he stepped onto the field with the team, the sound waves crashed against his eardrums and chest like a real tsunami.

Amsterdam!!

Amsterdam!!

Amsterdam!!

The shouts were no longer just words, but the pulse of the entire city.

The stands were a boundless, surging sea of ​​orange.

Flags, scarves, and slogans were waved wildly like fragments in a stormy sea.

He could clearly see the huge TIFO in the far stands, adorned with the classic Amsterdam Atlético de Amsterdam crest and the enormous words 'LANDERKAMPIOEN' (League Champion), gleaming under the lights.

At this moment, memories surged like a slideshow.

He entered Jiaozhou Weili Football School at the age of 9.

At 15, he struggled in a third-tier team with no progress whatsoever.

Then came the second-tier team, the first-tier team, the Future Star Cup, the Spanish Cup, Jiaozhou Weili's first professional debut, and the moment of glory when they won the U17 World Cup.

"Become part of the team!"

Learn to be a puzzle piece!

"Strive to become the 'director' of the competition!"

"Try to take control of the game!"

"Play football freely!"

"The first Red Devils from China!"

The words of the coaches in the simulated classroom echoed in my ears, like stimulants injected into my heart.

Tension, like a cold hand, gripped my legs.

Every touch of the ball, every pass, seemed to be slowed down countless times.

Technical movements that are usually well-known require extra mental effort to control at this time.

He didn't want to make a mistake; he didn't want to drag things out any longer.

He wants to win that championship here!

All the hard work throughout the season!
The dreams of 50,000 people in this stadium weighed on them like a mountain.

Sweat soaked through my clothes; I couldn't tell if it came from running or from the pressure.

Wei Lai thought he wouldn't be nervous, because he thought he was already familiar with everything from the mock classroom.

Even when the honor of being the champion is right in front of him, and when those expectant eyes fall on him, he still gets nervous.

boom!
The ball rolled towards him.

"Wei!"

The sound of teammates calling out came from behind.

Wei Lai looked up and saw a space.

Then came the practiced arm swings and leg swings.

These movements, honed through thousands of repetitions, have become second nature to the body; even pressure cannot suppress their proficiency.

The right foot struck the ball with just the right amount of force, and the final hook of the foot was smooth and natural.

A crescent moon, like a beautiful rainbow, pierced the Amstel Stadium.

"Wei-style arc! Wei's signature move!"

Commentator Van Gaal shouted loudly.

The ball landed precisely, but its descent was abrupt.

Konrad Lechmann gained half a body length advantage, and the moment he controlled the ball was the moment he broke through.

He stopped and dribbled past her, then slashed into the penalty area.

He didn't try to pass the ball; instead, he trusted himself.

He dribbled the ball to create space for a shot, then curled it into the net.

The goalkeeper made a save attempt but failed to touch the ball.

The moment the ball hit the net, the entire stadium erupted in cheers.

“Gooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal!!”

"Konrad Lechmann! The Austrian striker's 28th goal of the season, Lechmann's incredible shooting show continues!"

"Amsterdam fans have every reason to be proud of him; you have the best striker in all of the Netherlands!"

"His incredible goal-scoring prowess secured victory after victory for Amsterdam, and also brought them the upcoming championship trophy!"

"The all-powerful Lehmann, he is always trustworthy!"

"Of course, we must not forget Wei!"

"A prince from the foot of the Great Wall!"

"A year ago, when he first arrived in Amsterdam, he was met with a cautious welcome from the media, scrutinizing glances from fans, and the question, 'Can a Chinese man adapt to the Dutch total football style?'"

"Yes! He adapted, and not only adapted, he became the best!"

"His best medals are his eight goals in a single season, including four direct free kicks and 17 assists!"

"He anchored Atlético Amsterdam's attack with his magical passes and delivered a fantastic season for us!"

"Cheer! Shout! You're just one step away from the championship!"

The electrifying stadium is like a giant cauldron, bearing the passion and shouts of the fans.

The plaza outside the venue was already packed with people.

Unable to enter the stadium, fans turned it into a grand orange party, yet it was also filled with the grim atmosphere of battle.

Beer foam soared alongside the rousing songs, while the red glow of fireworks occasionally pierced the sky, creating a striking contrast with the blue roof lights of police cars.

Every time a huge cheer erupted from inside the stadium, the fans outside would respond in kind.

They gripped their radios tightly or stared at their phone screens, their emotions completely synchronized with those in the audience.

A human wall of riot police stood ready, the only black reef in this frenzied wave.

As the game progressed, the scoreboard's '1:0' felt like an increasingly taut string, weighing heavily on everyone's mind.

For that championship, one goal is simply not enough to guarantee victory.

They don't want a draw; only a victory will allow them to lift the trophy.

Wei Lai's throat was dry, and every breath tasted like sparks.

Time seemed to stretch out, yet also seemed to flow faster.

Finally, in the 87th minute, a counter-attack opportunity arose.

After a few quick and simple passes, the ball miraculously came to his feet. For a moment, the world fell silent.

He saw his teammates shouting frantically at him, but no sound came out.

All the noise seemed to be blocked out; he could only see the goal gleaming deadly at the edge of his vision.

Heavy breathing propelled his heavy feet.

He swung his left leg, using all his strength.

"Get out! Get out! This feels awful! Don't fucking bother me!"

Swing your left leg while holding your breath and channeling your strength.

Sweat and desire sent the ball through a perfect arc.
Click!

At this moment, it seemed as if all the chaos had been broken apart.

The sound returned, clear and distinct.

"GooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaL!!"

"Wei.L!!!"

The DJ's desperate shouts were like lighting the final fuse.

The entire Amstel River Stadium erupted in chaos!

The ground shook violently, and orange waves of people 'poured' down from the stands, only to be blocked by the 'black reefs' in front of the stands.

Wei Lai was pinned down by his teammates who surged towards him like a tidal wave. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Only a warm, salty liquid mixed with the taste of grass clippings entered my throat.

Those were tears, sweat, and the overwhelming joy of a dream coming true.

But the match had to go on, so he could only wipe away his tears and sweat and continue fighting.

In the final moments of the game, everyone was giving it their all.

For the championship, they became warriors who fought to the very last moment!

In the final moments of the game, the final whistle blew.

Beep beep beep!
Three whistles pierced the sky.

Wei Lai looked up at the field, everything seemed to be in slow motion, and everyone's expression was clearly visible.

His legs gave way and he collapsed to his knees on the grass.

He bent down, pressing his forehead tightly against the grass he had fought so hard on all season, clenching his teeth to control his emotions, but a torrent of pent-up feelings surged within him, and his shoulders trembled violently.
"Champion! Champion!—"

Konrad Lehmann rushed toward Wei Lai and pulled him up.

"Stop crying! Laugh! Laugh! We won the championship!"

With tears in his eyes, Wei Lai laughed and cursed, "You fucking stop crying too!"

"I didn't cry!"

Conrad Lehmann stared wide-eyed at his red and swollen eyes.

"Damn it! Six seasons."

Conrad Lehmann's cheeks were twitching, and his lips were trembling wildly, as if he was about to burst into tears at any moment.

But he masked it with a roar.

ah!!!!!!!!--

"Champions! Champions! We are the champions!"

Wei Lai grabbed Lechmann's head with both hands and exclaimed excitedly, "We're not just champions! We're going to the Champions League!"

Commentator Van Gaal's tone was filled with emotion at this moment.

"Six years, 2190 days and nights, for a powerhouse, this is an almost cruelly long wait. When the flowers in front of the great Claudius statue are replaced again and again, when the banners in the stands fade in the wind and rain, the night sky of Amsterdam is always waiting. Waiting for a group of young people dressed in red and white to light up the stars again with their running footsteps."

"They didn't make any big-money signings, they didn't have any superstars, they just had chests beating in unison with an average age of 22. Look—Danny's roars directing the defense still had a youthful hoarseness, Wei's graceful steps in midfield were just like De Jong's back then, and Lehmann's tireless runs made the grass of the Amstel River Stadium burn with orange flames!"

"The Amstel River blessed these kids, and their fluid running and teamwork led to a goal, writing the most poetic counterattack. The wind they stirred up as they ran dispelled six years of gloom, and the light in their eyes when they embraced brought tears to the eyes of the older fans in the Claudio stands!"

Van Gaal spoke in a loud voice.

"A salute to all who believe in youth, to the young hearts that keep football proud—this is not just a championship, but a passionate revival of idealism!"

"Go, children, lift your championship trophies!"

A simple champion's podium has been set up, and everyone is waiting for the moment when the young people will be crowned.

Wei Lai stood in the players' tunnel and saw Diego Ruma take a blue and white Argentine flag out of his backpack from the bench and quickly tie it around his waist.

"Where did you get that national flag?"

Wei came to inquire.

Diego Ruma: "I prepared it myself! Of course we should wear the national flag when we win the championship. Didn't you bring one?"

Wei Lai: "I'll go get one!"

"Speak," Wei Lai said, turning around and running towards the front of the stands.

At the Amstel River Stadium, there are a large number of Chinese fans, and they will inevitably be holding a bright red five-star flag in their hands.

Wei Lai found one of them, took off his jersey, and handed it upwards.

"Change the national flag!"

The Chinese fan was stunned for a moment, then immediately took the jersey and handed the national flag to Wei Lai.

"Go! Take the national flag to the coronation!"

Wei Lai nodded vigorously. He ran to the bench again, took out a spare jersey, put it on, and finally unfurled the national flag with a whoosh.

Unlike Diego Ruma, he didn't wrap the national flag around his waist; instead, he carefully draped it over his shoulders, like wearing a fiery red cloak.

"Wei Lai is draped in the national flag!"

Duan Jiang suddenly choked up and couldn't speak.

At the moment of victory, he felt happy and proud for Wei Lai.

But when Wei Lai draped the national flag over his shoulders, he was choked up and unable to speak.

"This is just the beginning! This is only the beginning!"

Duan Jiang's lips trembled, and his voice shook.

"I firmly believe so!"

On the field, one by one, teammates followed suit and stepped onto the podium.

They received the medals from the Dutch Football Association president and wore them around their necks.

Wei Lai stood in the crowd, wearing his fiery red cloak, proudly raising his head to welcome his first coronation.

The heavy medal hung on his chest, with the words '2027/2028 Eredivisie Champions' engraved on it.

Wei Lai played with it for a moment, then turned his gaze to Hendrick.

As captain, he walked to the podium and lifted the trophy symbolizing the Eredivisie championship.

Diego Ruma yelled out, but Wei Lai immediately stopped him.

“It’s not time yet.” Wei looked at Hendrick, his eyes shining.

"he came!"

Hendrick walked over laughing and bent down.

The other teammates stretched out their hands, wrestling and making various suppressed, strange noises.

The tens of thousands of fans in the stands joined in, their voices growing louder like drumbeats.

Hendrick came to the middle of the line and shouted:
"we are"

"champion!!!!!!!!--"

The crowd roared in unison, and Hendrick suddenly raised the trophy high, its surface gleaming brilliantly under the lights.

The cheers from the audience were like a boiling tide, one wave after another.

Following closely behind, Dennis Chilburne, as vice-captain, once again lifted the trophy.

Konrad Lehmann and Reyesa immediately accepted the trophies, savoring the captivating feeling.

Soon, the trophy was handed to Wei Lai.

"Shall I come?"

Konrad Lehmann laughed and patted Wei Lai on the back.

"Get up!"

Wei Lai walked to the front and suddenly raised the trophy.

What came into view was the bustling stands, and those faces flushed with excitement.

"This feels amazing!"

Wei Lai became obsessed with this feeling.

At this moment, the boy donned a cloak and stood atop the Helena de São Paulo.

boom!
Konrad Lehmann carried the trophy into the locker room and waved it with his hand.

"Let's have a party tonight! It's on me!"

Snapped!
Old Master Morton kicked him and said coldly:

"What kind of party is this! The season is over?"

Lehmann paused for a moment before snapping out of his daze; "That's right! We still have the Europa League final to play!"

"Let's talk about the party after the season ends. When you get home tonight, go to bed early, calm down your excitement, and let it all out during the Europa League final."

Mr. Morton looked at everyone and said, "Don't forget the defeat we suffered in London last season!"

Upon hearing this, everyone immediately calmed down.

That's right!

They still have a revenge battle to fight!

Europa League final, against Taurhamles!
(End of this chapter)