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

Referee Anthony Taylor blew his whistle sharply, pointing his arm straight out to the center circle.

The goal stands.

It's the 80th minute of the match. Borussia Dortmund are leading Paris Saint-Germain 3-0 away from home.

The aggregate score over two legs became a devastating 5-0.

The Princes Park stadium, which can hold more than 40,000 people, has been turned into a lifeless graveyard.

The home team fans in the stands seemed to have their throats grabbed simultaneously. No one made a sound, no boos, no curses, not even a sigh.

There was only deathly silence.

The PSG players on the pitch completely broke down.

Neymar knelt near the center circle, covering his face with his hands.

Mbappe stood with his hands on his hips, breathing heavily, his eyes blankly staring at the lights above the stadium.

Guy sat motionless on the grass in the backfield, like a wooden statue.

Kimpembe frantically pounded the ground, smashing a hole into a patch of turf.

Silva was still lying on the edge of the penalty area. The veteran captain looked at the Parisian night sky, too exhausted to even get up.

In stark contrast is Dortmund's bench.

Head coach Favre completely lost his usual gentlemanly demeanor. He rushed out of the designated area of ​​the coaching bench, ran wildly along the sidelines, and finally hugged assistant coach Terčić tightly, jumping and hopping around.

All the players on the bench rushed towards the corner flag area.

Sun Yang didn't make any exaggerated celebration gestures. He ran to the corner flag area, turned around, raised his hands high, and pointed his two index fingers towards the night sky.

Then, he took off the Dortmund captain's armband from his left arm and kissed it deeply.

This was his tribute to Reus, who was lying in a hospital bed. It was also a way of telling everyone that the spirit of this team is still alive.

The Dortmund players rushed forward and surrounded Sun Yang. Haaland grabbed Sun Yang from behind and yelled.

"My God! Are you a monster?! You beat them all!"

"This is something only aliens could do! You've made those billionaires look like a bunch of amateur players!" Sancho joined in the wild celebration.

Two thousand Borussia Dortmund fans who had traveled from afar went wild in the highest tier of the away stands.

Someone lit the cold fireworks that had been brought into the stadium. Red smoke billowed into the air above the stands.

The fans waved their yellow and black scarves in unison, chanting the same name at the top of their lungs.

"Sun!!! Sun!!! Sun!!!"

The massive roar, like a tsunami, completely shattered the silence of the home fans.

On the huge electronic screen in the center of the stadium, the director began to repeatedly replay the slow-motion replay of the goal from various angles.

At the bottom of the screen, a set of real-time data was displayed that would terrify any defensive player.

Starting position: 10 meters from the center line in your own half of the court.

Distance covered by dribbling: 55 meters.

Time taken: 7 seconds.

Average speed: 29 km/h. Maximum speed: 32 km/h.

Number of touches: eleven.

Players dribbled past: Neymar, Guy, Mbappe, Kimpembe, Silva, Navas.

He beat six people in a row.

In slow motion, every subtle change of direction by Sun Yang, every leap he took to dodge a tackle, resembled a perfect artistic performance. He weaved through the defenders, treating Paris Saint-Germain's formidable defense as nothing.

Thousands of miles away.

CCTV Sports Channel broadcasting hall.

He Wei, the commentator known for his refined manners, slammed his tactical board on the table. He stood up abruptly and roared into the microphone.

"Goal! Goal! Goal!"

He Wei's voice was completely hoarse, but he didn't care. His voice, transmitted through the radio waves, reached countless households across China.

"What an incredible goal! Sun Yang received the ball in his own half, single-handedly carving a bloody path through the fierce competition!"

"Don't worry about having no friends on the road ahead, for who in the world doesn't know you! Sun Yang, with his own strength, has turned the prestigious Princes Park stadium into his personal stage!"

"He's like a swordsman in white, taking the head of a general from among thousands of troops as easily as picking something out of a bag! PSG's €100 million defense has become nothing more than a backdrop for his legendary rise to fame!"

Xu Yang, the commentator sitting next to him, was so excited that his face turned red. He grabbed the microphone and loudly took over the conversation.

"He Wei, this goal is simply outrageous. Ladies and gentlemen, we have witnessed history today. This is not a typical counter-attacking goal at all."

"Look closely at the data displayed on the screen. Distance, number of touches, rhythm of getting past defenders, even the desperate posture of the opposing defense as they fall to the ground."

Xu Yang took a deep breath to calm his wildly beating heart.

"This goal will remind all the veteran fans of that great name."

"1986. Mexico World Cup. Azteca Stadium. Maradona's goal of the century against England!"

"Exactly the same. The same visual spectacle. Our Chinese player replicated the King of Football's miracle on the Champions League stage. He dribbled past six players. From the start to the goal, it only took seven seconds."

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a long run that will surely be recorded in the history of world football. It will be written into the textbooks of football coaches, so that future generations can observe and learn from it repeatedly."

"Faced with this 20-year-old Asian midfielder, Paris's superstars appeared so pale and powerless. Their spirit was completely shattered!"

Paris Saint-Germain's head coach, Thomas Tuchel, stood at the edge of the control area, his eyes vacant as he watched the celebrating Borussia Dortmund players.

He knew the game was over. Sun Yang's goal had completely shattered Paris Saint-Germain's mental defenses.

He quickly arranged for substitutions, replacing Neymar and Mbappe, two key players.

The Dortmund players ended their celebrations and retreated to their own half, chatting and laughing.

Referee Anthony Taylor kept urging the PSG star to leave the field quickly so that the substitution could be completed.

Neymar stood alone in the center circle.

The proud Brazilian superstar's eyes were bloodshot. Looking at the substitution board, he felt his pride had been trampled upon like never before, pushing him to the brink of losing control.

He looked at Sun Yang, who was adjusting his shin guards. Then, Neymar suddenly made an unusual move.

He ignored the referee's urging and didn't even look at the ball at his feet. He turned around and strode towards the PSG substitutes' bench on the sidelines.

Neymar's face turned ashen, and he shoved away coach Tuchel, who was trying to comfort him.

Then, to the astonishment of the more than 40,000 fans in the stadium, Neymar reached out and grabbed the collar of his jersey. With a forceful rip, he tore the blue and red jersey, the symbol of Paris Saint-Germain's honor, to shreds and threw it on the ground.