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

June 27. North Rhine-Westphalia, Westphalia.

The Bundesliga concludes with its 34th round of matches.

Westfalenstadion. Borussia Dortmund hosts Hoffenheim at their home ground.

For the past three days, the Bundesliga's operations center has been embroiled in a heated debate over which stadium should host the championship trophy ceremony.

Bayern Munich will travel to face Wolfsburg. Borussia Dortmund will host Hoffenheim. Both teams have 67 points, but Dortmund holds a valuable goal difference advantage.

There is only one genuine salad bowl.

The tournament director made the final decision. The genuine salad plate was packed into a bulletproof suitcase and escorted to Dortmund's home stadium.

The reason is simple and straightforward. Dortmund boasts two red-hot attacking machines in their squad: Sun Yang and Haaland. Against a relatively weak Hoffenheim, the Black and Yellows are unlikely to suffer an upset.

To play it safe, they only sent a copy to Wolfsburg.

Under strict control measures, yellow warning tape was cordoned off the area around the stadium. The huge stands were completely empty, except for club executives, the broadcasting team, security personnel, and a few family members.

Everyone was wearing masks and maintaining strict social distancing.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of medical disinfectant.

West Stand, VIP Family Box Area.

Sun Yang's father, Sun Wu, sat on a plastic chair, leisurely twirling two shiny walnuts in his hands.

Diana, the mother and agent, had a laptop propped up on her lap. Through a Bluetooth headset, she was rapidly finalizing the revenue-sharing terms for the championship with the sponsors in fluent German.

His girlfriend, Catherine, and his uncle, Henry, sat in the front row, each holding a data analysis board.

"Judging from the pre-match muscle heatmap, Yang is in peak physical condition. But the other key players aren't quite right." Henry frowned deeply. "During yesterday's recovery training, those lads' heart rates were all hovering near the red line."

Catherine pushed up her goggles, her eyes filled with worry: "The whole city is waiting to pop the champagne, the lads are all carried away."

Sun Wu stopped eating the walnuts. His gaze, sharp as a hawk's, was fixed on the Dortmund players warming up on the field.

"He's got no footing. That's called being arrogant before the battle even begins." Sun Tzu sneered. "If a trained fighter acted like that, he'd be beaten senseless as soon as he stepped onto the stage."

The home team's bench.

Captain Reus's right leg was strapped with a heavy brace. A single aluminum crutches rested quietly beside his chair.

In the locker room before the match, Favre slammed his fist on the table, refusing to include the seriously injured Reus in the squad, fearing that Reus might tear his ligaments from excessive excitement.

But Reus only said one sentence.

"I've been with Dortmund for eight years. Even if I'm on crutches today, I'll watch the team win the salad basket from the sidelines. Put me on the roster."

Favre eventually compromised. Reus's name was prominently listed.

All of Germany thought it was just a perfunctory coronation ceremony. Even back in China, in the CCTV studio, Duan Xuan and Tao Wei began to review the procedures for the championship celebration in advance.

No one noticed what was happening in the away team's locker room.

Hoffenheim coach Breitenreit smashed two water glasses and berated his young guards until they were red in the face.

Hoffenheim are currently sixth in the league. Only by securing points away from home can they retain their Europa League qualification for next season.

At 3:30 PM, the referee blew the opening whistle.

Just three minutes later, the first blow of the game landed squarely on Bumblebee's head.

The Dortmund players were still picturing themselves lifting the trophy. Their shots were weak, and their positioning was sloppy.

Center-back Hummels received the ball in the backfield and habitually passed it to the left wing. However, Guerrero, who was supposed to receive it, was strolling around in place, a full half-beat too slow to get going.

Between the two, a vast, empty area lay uninhabited.

Hoffenheim striker Bebo smelled blood. A vicious sliding tackle intercepted both the player and the ball.

Dortmund's defense was instantly torn in two.

Bebo got up and kicked the ball across the middle. Croatian international Kramaric burst out from Akanji's blind spot.

By the time Akanji turned to look for someone, Kramaric had already controlled the ball at the edge of the penalty area.

Without the slightest hesitation, he used the inside of his right foot to push the ball into the far corner.

Goalkeeper Bürki's view was completely blocked by his own defender. He didn't even have time to make a save; he was pinned to the goal line, watching helplessly as the ball nestled into the corner of the net.

0 is better than 1!

Hoffenheim are leading away from home.

Favre on the sidelines was dumbfounded. The Bundesliga officials in the stands felt a chill run down their spines. If the salad platter had been delivered to the wrong stadium, they would have to resign tomorrow.

Even worse, Dortmund, trailing behind, seemed to be sleepwalking. Their midfield was severely disjointed, with disastrous passing errors.

In the twelfth minute, Hoffenheim's counter-attack reopened the wound.

Guerreiro dribbled the ball with sluggish, muddy movements. Hoffenheim's defensive midfielder, Rudy, charged in like a bulldozer, forcefully taking possession of the ball.

Look up, stand up.

A low, through ball. It pierced Dortmund's left flank defense.

Right-back Kaderabek made a high-speed overlapping run down the flank and received the ball on the edge of the penalty area. The Dortmund defense broke out in a cold sweat, collectively tilting to their left to cover.

Just as they were pressing in with overwhelming force, Kaderabek calmly delivered a triangular back pass.

Near the penalty spot. It's Kramaric again.

Dortmund's penalty area was riddled with holes. Kramaric met the incoming ball and unleashed a powerful right-footed shot.

Bang! The ball hit the underside of the crossbar and slammed into the net.

0 is better than 2!

Favre was furious. He grabbed the tactical board and slammed it down in front of the coaching bench. The plastic board shattered instantly, and the tiles scattered all over the floor.

"What kind of crap are you guys playing! You've completely ripped through the third zone! Akanji, are you carrying a pumpkin on your neck?"

The roars echoed through the empty stadium.

In the CCTV live broadcast room, Duan Xuan's tone changed.

"What a surprise! Dortmund conceded two goals in just twelve minutes! The broadcast just switched to the live standings, and Lewandowski scored for Bayern! Bayern have taken the lead!"

Tao Wei shook his head repeatedly: "The Dortmund players have a serious problem with their mentality. They want to win too much, and they underestimate their opponents. They're not running actively enough, and they crumble as soon as Hoffenheim presses them high up the pitch. If they keep playing like this, they'll really be handing over the victory they've already secured."

Inside the stadium.

Several young players walked back with their heads down, their eyes unfocused.

Sun Yang strode towards the center circle. He stepped onto the service spot, didn't even glance at the ball, and slammed it down with both hands.

Snapped!Snapped!Snapped!

The applause was crisp and jarring.

"All of you, come here! Now!"

Sun Yang roared at his surroundings. The captain's armband on his left arm was tightly bound.

The crowd paused, and gradually gathered around.

"Look up! Look at the scoreboard! Two goals in the first twelve minutes!" Sun Yang's gaze was like a knife, scraping across everyone's faces. "You think you're done just because you've got the top spot in the standings? The other team is a pack of hungry wolves aiming for European competition! You guys think you're lambs to the slaughter?"

Akanji lowered his head and remained silent.

Sun Yang suddenly raised his hand and pointed directly to the sidelines.

On the edge of the bench, Reus gripped his aluminum crutches, his entire body tense as he stared intently at the field.

"Marco is sitting here today, dragging a crippled leg! How much blood he's shed, how many injuries he's suffered for the league title!" Sun Yang said in a low voice, each word dripping with venom. "Are you prepared to let him walk on crutches and watch the Munich team celebrate with champagne at another stadium?"

These words caused everyone's expressions to change.

Haaland abruptly pulled up the collar of his jersey and spat hard onto the grass.

"If this happens, I'll swim back to Norway tomorrow. I can't afford to lose face like that!" Haaland's eyes were bloodshot. "We need to score three!"