China's 2–0 win over Chile—its first World Cup victory—instantly beca the only topic anyone cared about.
During the World Cup, nothing else competes for attention. And on this particular morning, the entire country woke up buzzing.
It was the kind of dawn that felt like a celebration.
The young n of the national team had given millions of just-waking fans an unforgettable start to their day.
People's Daily:
"A Winning Start! China Opens the World Cup With a Victory."
Xinhua Daily Telegraph:
"Chile Falls to China: A Defensive Masterclass and Counter-Attack Clinic."
China Sports Daily:
"China's Tactical Overhaul: High Press, Quick Transitions, Relentless Energy!"
Every major outlet was covering the match, and the praise ca flooding in. Before kickoff, the dia had done the usual—stay upbeat to save face, even while acknowledging Chile's strength. But no one truly expected this.
China 2–0 Chile.
Chile failed to find the net even once, while China scored twice from their limited chances.
The difference between the sides was visible from the mont the match began.
Not because Chile played poorly—far from it—but because China executed almost everything to perfection. In tactics, discipline, and on-field decisions, China held the edge. From the opening whistle, they controlled the pace without letting up, not even as the clock neared 90 minutes.
At the center of it all was Kai, whose perfect 10 rating made him an instant hero.
Kai's performance couldn't be described as rely "excellent."
It was overwhelming.
From Valdivia to Sánchez, Chile's two most important players were completely neutralized. Kai's defensive reading, interceptions, and tackles ford the foundation of China's entire ga plan.
Fans had seen him play before and knew he was strong defensively, but this was the first ti many truly understood how strong.
A midfielder capable of limiting Champions League-level attackers—once he steps into an international match like this, especially against Chile, his impact becos devastating.
A powerful holding midfielder, dominating the center of the pitch and leaving opponents dizzy.
Chen Man and Wang Yi had strong gas as well, but tonight, everything revolved around Kai.
A goal.
A Man of the Match award.
All in his official debut for the national team.
Fans across the country were stunned.
Soon, every corner of China was talking about him.
...
On the subway
"Hey! Did you catch the ga this morning?"
An office worker nudged his colleague on the ride ho.
His companion pulled off his headphones and imdiately gave a thumbs-up.
"Amazing! We controlled the tempo from start to finish. Chile couldn't get its bearings at all."
"Kai is unbelievable! On both sides of the ball, he does everything. I used to think guys like Guo Liang and Yu Hao were already great, but after watching this… they're just a notch below."
"A notch? Co on, man—it's night and day! With or without Kai, the whole team looks completely different."
"Yeah! It was fun to watch."
"Chen Man was great too."
Throughout the train, conversations echoed the sa energy. Fans who understood the ga dissected every detail; those who didn't simply declared, "That was aweso."
The match had satisfied everyone.
Even the 7 p.m. CCTV news ran an extended segnt on China's 2–0 victory.
...
anwhile, in Brazil
After wrapping up their first match, China's squad traveled to Porto Alegre, Brazil's southern Atlantic port city and the capital of Rio Grande do Sul.
With a five-day break before their next fixture, they began preparations for their June 19 showdown with the Netherlands.
This one would be a genuine nightmare test.
The Dutch, fresh off their demolition of Spain, were riding enormous montum. With stars like Van Persie, Robben, and Sneijder leading them, they were widely seen as the strongest team in Group B—and the toughest obstacle between China and qualification.
On paper, the squads were worlds apart.
Kai spent his downti thinking through possible approaches, searching for any realistic way to counter the Netherlands' firepower. But he kept arriving at the sa conclusion.
Their best chance was to stick to what had worked so well already:
Defend well. Stay disciplined.
Strike on the counter.
After weathering the Netherlands' early pressure, the plan was to spring forward through Chen Man's pace.
But that was easier said than done.
The Netherlands was playing at an intensity far beyond Chile's.
Kai could deal with Robben one-on-one, but handling both Robben and Van Persie together was another matter entirely. And with Sneijder orchestrating behind them, the threat was constant and exhausting.
...
"Phew… this heat is sothing else."
After just a short spell under the blazing sun, Kai and the rest of the squad were already drenched. Their jerseys clung to them, completely soaked, and in this humid Brazilian air, even quick-dry fabric felt useless.
The coaching staff finally gathered everyone for a water break.
Kai dropped into a patch of shade, splashed an entire bottle of water over his face, then reached for a Gatorade hydration drink. Around him, players copied the sa routine; Chen Man even pulled a tiny portable fan out of his bag, waving it desperately at his face.
"My god, this heat is unreal!"
"I swear, I'm dreaming of air conditioning right now."
"The match is at night."
"Night doesn't help. Stick fifty thousand people in a stadium and see if it cools off. Unless they install AC."
"Air conditioning? Yeah right, keep dreaming."
The complaints kept coming, but beneath the joking tone, there was a subtle tension in everyone's voice.
The upcoming ga against the Netherlands weighed heavily on all of them.
Even the coaches had been frank: Aim for a draw, fight for a win.
Nice words, but holding the Netherlands to a draw was a monuntal task.
"By the way, didn't we beat Chile? Why isn't anyone talking about us?"
Chen Man pointed toward the sparsely populated dia zone—mostly Chinese reporters, hardly any international ones.
Fernando, holding a cold bottle to his forehead, replied lazily, "We're not a top seed. Beating Chile won't suddenly change our status. Unless we make the final… or knock out the Netherlands."
Chen Man pouted. "Still feels unfair."
He nudged Guo Liang with his elbow. "So, you think Klose will break Ronaldo's record?"
Outside their own group, one storyline overshadowed everything: whether Klose would surpass Ronaldo's all-ti World Cup scoring record.
Ronaldo—the legend, O Fenôno—held the record with 15 goals. Now Klose, backed by Germany's machine-like efficiency, was charging right at it.
"It's not our problem," Guo Liang said calmly. "Whether Klose breaks it, whether Germany wins… that's Group G business. We need to focus on what's in front of us."
"What's in front of us?" Chen Man asked without thinking.
Kai answered for him. "The Netherlands and Spain. Don't forget, our group has two giants. If we lose both, we'll be packing our bags early."
"Damn… Only three matches and we go ho? That's depressing."
Chen Man instantly regretted saying it.
Wang Yi's expression stiffened for a second.
Chen Man panicked. "Captain, I didn't an it like that. You know how I talk—"
Wang Yi waved him off. "Relax. You're right. Three matches every ti—yeah, it's pathetic. Worst part is, we never make progress."
He looked around the circle.
"So this ti… let's make sure we get a few more matches."
The players straightened, a spark lighting in their eyes.
Kai grinned. "No objections from ."
If this were any ordinary World Cup, maybe they'd resign themselves to an early exit.
But 2014 wasn't normal. It was a World Cup of chaos—upsets, revenge matches, wild scorelines, record-shattering performances.
Maybe not the most beautiful tournant, but definitely the most volatile.
And in chaos?
There's always a chance to seize sothing unexpected.
...
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