Football: He suffered a broken leg at the start of the game, but partnered with Haaland!

Goal!

The ball grazed Navas's desperate hands and slammed into the goal. The immense force sent the white net flying high backward with a dull tearing sound.

The Westfalen stadium, which can hold 80,000 people, fell into an eerie collective silence at this moment.

The 75,000 Borussia Dortmund fans stared wide-eyed, their eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. The flags they waved in the stands froze in mid-air, their raised hands frozen in place.

Meanwhile, in a corner of the stands, the five thousand Paris Saint-Germain fans were completely silent. These Frenchmen, who had just been mocking the Dortmund players, now looked as if they had swallowed a dead fly.

No one saw how the ball went in. The speed was too fast, the trajectory too wild, completely violating the common sense of human biomechanics.

The scoreboard on the big screen flashed mercilessly: Borussia Dortmund 2-0 Paris Saint-Germain!

Half a second later, a scream that was about to crack came from the microphone of the main broadcaster at the scene.

"Goooooooooooooooooooooooal!"

DJ Norbert Dickel's powerful, raspy roar pulled the entire stadium back from its slumber.

Blasted!

The 75,000 Dortmund fans erupted in cheers, the entire stadium roof nearly ripped off by the deafening roar. Countless yellow and black scarves waved in the air, and ten fiery fireworks burst forth from the south stand, billowing crimson smoke.

"A celestial dunk! Only a god could score that!" Fat Karl stood at the front of the stands, jumped onto the railing, ripped off his clothes to reveal his large, white, fat body, and roared at the crowd below.

Several enthusiastic young fans even flipped over the GG sign, but were politely and kindly asked to return to the stands by the volunteers with smiles on their faces.

On the football field, Sun Yang, who had just scored that stunning volley, was too exhausted to even stand up.

His lungs felt like they were on fire. He lay sprawled on the grass, his chest heaving violently as he gulped down air.

Before he could even close his eyes and catch his breath, the ground began to shake violently.

The first heavy tank roared towards him. Erling Harland's massive 1.95-meter, 88-kilogram frame was utterly unreasonable; this muscle behemoth from Northern Europe leaped into the air, sweating profusely and yelling, and landed solidly on Sun Yang.

"You lunatic! You're a perverted brat! Sun! What the hell is that foot of yours?! I thought you were just running around aimlessly, but you actually shoved it in!"

"Ouch! Holy crap!" Sun Yang rolled his eyes as he was pressed down on the grass.

Before Sun Yang could even utter a curse, the diminutive, fast Sancho also rushed in front of him. The British teenager didn't care about anything else and leaped onto Haaland's back, pouncing fiercely on him.

Next up was captain Marco Reus, the usually extremely elegant veteran who was now grinning like a triumphant child, and plopped down on top of the group wearing his captain's armband.

"Well done! Kid! Well done!"

Then came Achraf Hakimi, Axel Witsel, and Guerreiro. The Dortmund players, like madmen, sprinted in from all directions, layering themselves on top of each other, creating an absurdly tall human pyramid in front of Paris Saint-Germain's penalty area!

Human pyramid!

The Dortmund players unleashed all the anger and passion they had been building up for over eighty minutes in this frenzied celebration.

Sun Yang was pinned to the bottom of the grass, flailing his arms wildly and howling at the top of his lungs, "Get off! You bunch of overweight pigs! Get off! If you keep pushing me down, I'll be crushed to death here, not on the Paris Saint-Germain defense! Stop messing around, or you'll all be eating a feast right here!"

Ashraf, who was on top, laughed heartily. Instead of getting up, he gave the guy a couple of hard shakes: "Let this guy sweat a bit more! He's our guardian angel now!"

Although his teammates were joking around, they knew that Sun Yang had indeed pushed himself to his physical limit. Amid laughter and banter, they all scrambled to their feet from the crowd. Haaland even reached out with his two large, iron-like hands, grabbed Sun Yang's arm, and yanked him up from the ground like a chicken.

At this very moment, thousands of miles away in China.

In the CCTV sports channel's live broadcast studio, the commentary booth was being pounded so loudly it was deafening.

Renowned commentator He Wei stood before the table, his face flushed, not even bothering to put his fallen earphone back on. Speaking into the microphone, he roared with almost hoarse passion, "Goal! Goal! This goal…! This is a super goal that will go down in the annals of world football history!"

Catching his breath slightly, He Wei's signature literary talent returned, and with the heaving of his chest, two perfectly fitting lines of poetry flowed from his lips:

"Like a roc soaring on the wind, rising ninety thousand miles high! Today, on the Westfalen stadium, this twenty-year-old from China, riding the wave of the UEFA Champions League, is taking flight!"

The two guests next to him, Xu Yang and Yang Chen, were also infected by He Wei's passionate commentary. After He Wei's fervent outburst subsided a little, the two immediately took over the conversation and began to tactically review the textbook-worthy counterattack.

Xu Yang took out a tactical analysis pen and rewound the screen ten seconds earlier.

"Look here, everyone! Haaland! This young Norwegian striker made this counter-attack possible entirely thanks to his superhuman reflexes. He jumped up a second before Mbappe's feint, and after realizing he'd been tricked, he landed without hesitation. With his terrifying core strength and lower body stability, he managed to take a huge step back! It was this retreat that completely shattered the tactics Mbappe and Di Maria had planned! His header clearance was the starting point of this counter-attack!"

Yang Chen also came over, pointing with his finger at several rapidly moving yellow dots on the broadcast screen: "Not bad, Mr. Xu Yang. But this is just the beginning. What all professional players in China should repeatedly observe and learn from is Dortmund's entire system of transitioning from defense to attack after gaining possession."

"Look at this long shot! The moment the ball was at Witsel's feet, before he passed it, Dortmund wasn't just one or two players running forward. Haaland, Sancho, Reus, Hakimi, and Sun Yang in the very center—a total of five attacking threats sprinting forward!"

"This is the true offensive extension of a top team in the top five leagues! They used collective off-the-ball movement to forcefully tear apart PSG's defense, which was already too late to get into position!"

Xu Yang nodded repeatedly, emphasizing Sun Yang's sprinting run with the ball in the center of the screen: "The key to making this fast-break line truly a deadly threat lies in Sun Yang's one-on-one dribble past his opponent in the center circle. Everyone, pay attention to Verratti's defense. Although this Italian international is relatively short, he tackles very aggressively, directly aiming to use a yellow card tactical foul to stop you in this non-lethal area."

"But at this moment, Sun Yang showed his most terrifying progress in just over half a year!" Xu Yang said in a very high tone.

"A feint with his shoulder! Look at his upper body, this whole sequence of movements conceals his attacking direction extremely well. He doesn't just rely on speed to overpower; he uses his core to shift Verratti's defensive balance! The instant Verratti's right foot misses its mark, it's followed by such a silky Marseille turn! This subtle ball control after a high-speed sprint is absolutely at the level of a world-class midfield maestro!"