I Am Scouted by Real Madrid

In the 35th minute, Busquets brought down Kaka in a midfield tussle, and referee Stark’s whistle shrieked through the air.

Alonso stood over the ball, took a deep breath, and whipped in a brilliant curling delivery straight into the box.

Chen Zhong outmuscled Pique to flick on a header, and just as Ramos arrived at the back post to attack it, Valdes pounced on the ball like a tiger on its prey, clasping it firmly under him. This three-phase attacking and defending sequence drew gasps from both sets of fans in the stands.

Guardiola looked over at Chen Zhong with a grave expression; Chen Zhong was still the biggest problem Barcelona had to solve.

Mourinho, meanwhile, was waving his arms, signalling his team to crank up the intensity.

In the 36th minute, Messi cut in through the middle, dribbling past two players in succession, then slid a surgical through pass to Villa.

Villa powered past his marker into the box, and facing the block from his former teammate Albiol, his thunderous shot was deflected behind by Albiol’s body.

In the 38th minute, during a Barcelona counter, Pedro made a clever run on the flank when Alvaro clearly stuck out a leg to impede him. As the referee kept his cards in his pocket, the Barcelona fans in the stands erupted in protest, and Guardiola argued his case with the fourth official. Prompted by the official from Germany, Stark finally flashed a yellow card, which in turn sparked a mass protest from the Real Madrid players, with Ramos even being warned for his heated words.

In the 44th minute, Alves fouled Kaka in a wrestling match on the touchline, and the sight of Kaka rolling in pain drew a deafening chorus of boos from the Real Madrid supporters.

Chen Zhong charged over immediately, barging into Alves to stick up for Kaka; faced with the towering Chen Zhong, Alves’s bravado suddenly seemed to evaporate.

When the first half ended, Chen Zhong walked over to Kaka, saying something to him, and just at that moment, not far away, Keita and Alvaro broke into a physical confrontation, seemingly still arguing about the incident in the 38th minute.

Players from both sides surged toward the tunnel like a tidal wave.

In the chaos, Barcelona backup goalkeeper Pinto was shown a straight red for shoving the referee.

The gunpowder between the two sides was getting thicker and thicker—not just on the pitch, but in the stands and online, where the fanbases were locked in a nonstop slanging match.

The second half kicked off with Real Madrid launching the first attack, but Barcelona’s defense was very well organized.

Pedro delivered an exquisite cross from the right to find Messi, and after shaking off the attentions of the Real Madrid players, Messi’s trademark curler from the edge of the box was bravely blocked by a diving Ramos.

That shot made the Real Madrid supporters in the stands break out in a cold sweat.

Mourinho’s expression on the touchline grew a little stern; up to now, Barcelona were the better side, creating more chances and seriously threatening Real Madrid’s goal.

Especially Messi.

In this match, Barcelona had given Messi a lot more freedom, making it impossible for Pepe to effectively shackle him, and the interplay between Xavi and Iniesta was causing Real Madrid all sorts of headaches.

Guardiola’s expression had relaxed considerably; if there were something like a live win-probability metric, then Barcelona’s odds would definitely be higher than Real Madrid’s at this moment.

Two minutes later, Chen Zhong dropped deep to receive the ball near the centre circle. The Barcelona players immediately pressed him, but as Busquets closed in, Chen Zhong stayed calm and instead cast his eyes toward the distant Valdes.

His positioning looked very advanced?

That thought flashed through Chen Zhong’s mind.

"Real Madrid on the attack!"

"Chen Zhong has dropped into the centre circle to collect the ball!"

"What is he going to do?"

As the commentators voiced their surprise, everyone saw Chen Zhong make a simple adjustment and then swing his leg, going straight for an ultra-long-range chip.

In the stands, both the Real Madrid and Barcelona fans couldn’t help but rise to their feet.

Guardiola watched this unfold, his face etched with disbelief.

What’s he doing?

Mourinho, even more stunned, opened his mouth wide, frozen in a dazed expression.

What? He’s going for it from there?

The ball traced a staggering parabola through the air, and as it did, people suddenly understood Chen Zhong’s intention—wait, why was Barcelona’s keeper standing so far off his line?

And this shot... it actually looks like it might go in!

Puyol sensed the danger and shouted the goalkeeper’s name at the top of his lungs, and only then did the keeper snap out of it and start scrambling back.

The ball sailed over the head of the desperately retreating Puyol and, under the gaze of 80,000 people in the stadium, arrowed toward the far corner of the goal! Valdes, scrambling back in panic, was already too late—

He could only watch in despair as the ball dropped in front of him.

Valverde launched himself desperately, hoping for a miracle, and there was a miracle—but it belonged to Real Madrid!

"GOOOOOOL!!!" The Bernabeu exploded!

The commentator roared hoarsely, "51st minute! Chen Zhong has just pulled off an outrageous lob from near the centre circle! This stroke of genius from over 60 yards will be etched into the history of El Clásico!"

"No, it’ll be etched into Champions League history as well—never before in a Champions League semi-final has anyone even tried something like this, never!"

Once he was sure it had gone in, Chen Zhong’s face lit up with surprise; even he hadn’t expected that strike to actually find the net. He sprinted toward the corner flag, launched into a wild knee-slide, then rose in front of the fans, arms raised high, laughing in sheer delight.

The Barcelona players were stunned rigid; after more than 50 minutes of a brutal midfield battle, they had conceded in such a way.

Messi stood in the centre circle, watching Chen Zhong, his expression constantly shifting. The scene before his eyes stirred a sense of despair inside him.

He even felt a creeping illusion: as long as Real Madrid had Chen Zhong, Barcelona would never be able to beat them.

The Real Madrid fans in the stands chanted Chen Zhong’s name at the top of their lungs; a goal like that deserved every decibel of their roar. Beckham and his wife were also in attendance, and when the cameras cut to them.

Countless people couldn’t help recalling that Beckham himself once scored a similar goal back in the day.

The broadcast cameras simultaneously caught two other moments: Guardiola’s tactical board slipping from his hands to the turf, and Mourinho celebrating with a knee slide that carved a mark in the grass.

Up in the stands, the stark contrast between Florentino and Laporta’s expressions became an iconic image.

In the first leg of this Champions Cup Clásico, the brawl at halftime was temporarily quelled by the referee’s distribution of reds and yellows, but in the second half, Chen Zhong’s monstrous Heavy Cannon from midfield plunged Barcelona into a state of despair.

The match went on, but for a while, Barcelona seemed strangely subdued.

Well, everyone except Messi.

Messi’s only thought now was to claw the score back as quickly as possible.

But within the Barcelona Team, their ideas were clearly no longer aligned.

In the 51st minute, Busquets was dispossessed deep in his own half by Real Madrid. Chen Zhong saw Busquets staring into the void, pondering life, and without a shred of hesitation, he launched into a sliding tackle, nicking the ball away and sending the man to the turf.

The Barcelona fans in the stands seethed with rage, but it was pointless; what they really had to worry about now was whether their team would concede again.

Chen Zhong took the ball and clipped a lobbed pass into the final third for Cristiano Ronaldo. Pique and Puyol, perhaps still rattled by that lob from midfield, had not yet calmed down, and as they both attacked the cross, they crashed into each other.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Guardiola couldn’t bear to watch, while Mourinho, his face flushed, braced himself for the killing blow.

But Cristiano Ronaldo let the fans down.

His tight-angle shot from the right side of the box was blocked by Alves.

Real Madrid had squandered a golden opportunity, and a collective sigh swept through their supporters in the stands, while the Barcelona fans exhaled in relief.

Cristiano Ronaldo kept staring at Alves, muttering under his breath, clearly brooding over his missed chance.