Chapter 280: Unyielding Spirits

You might not believe in Chinese soccer, but you can always believe in Chinese fans.

A group of fans in red shirts faced off against hundreds, even thousands, of Japanese spectators.

Just like Xie Bingran standing alone against seven Japanese competitors…

Yet when “Defend the Yellow River” played, it overwhelmed the weak, fading boos from the hundreds of Japanese spectators.

Before Xie Bingran even started, that small sea of red in the stands had already won her a resounding victory.

…

Two Japanese men in security uniforms rushed forward, waving their arms and chattering in Japanese to stop them.

The lead fan, an older man, smiled broadly, acting like he had no clue what they were babbling about—it was perfectly reasonable and justified.

The two Japanese security guards grew frantic, resorting to broken English and shouting “STOP”.

They crossed their arms in front of their chests to form an ‘X’, hoping the foreigners would get the message.

The fan leader chuckled, waiting until the end of “Defend the Yellow River” before waving back to signal his group to halt.

The two Japanese security guards sighed in relief, wiping sweat from their foreheads, and muttered a “thank you” in Japanese.

At that moment, from the opposite stands, the group of Japanese spectators in white sent over a bold wave of boos.

The two security guards saw trouble brewing and quickly spoke into their walkie-talkies, urging their colleagues to stop the uncivilized behavior from the Japanese crowd.

From afar, it looked like…

The two Japanese security guards were communicating with the spectators in the opposite stands.

From their gestures, it seemed they were saying something about “staying restrained and watching civilly.”

…

The noise in the arena quieted a bit.

The boos from the opposite side seemed to weaken.

But in an instant, two brash young Japanese men stood up, looking arrogant and aggressive, yelling insults like “baka” at the stands here…

On this side of the stands.

The lead fan narrowed his eyes, suppressing the fire inside.

He turned to the crowd behind him and said:

“Guys, we need to show the grace of a great nation—don’t stoop to the level of this tiny country!

Let’s display our poise, our goodwill, and remember that friendship comes first, competition second!”

The two Japanese security guards couldn’t understand his words, but seeing his kind, restrained smile, they figured he was helping to calm things and felt grateful.

The fan paused, then added:

“For the sake of poise and goodwill, let’s sing a song of friendship!

Ready… together!”

In the next moment, a clear, resounding song echoed again:

“Great sword!”

“Toward the devils'”

“Heads, chop down…”

…

…

Few Japanese people would understand exactly what those on the opposite side were singing.

They might just see it as some kind of cheer to boost morale.

But Chinese viewers watching the live broadcast could clearly pick out the fiery spirit in that faint background audio from those fans.

So on this special day, in this special match…

Through TVs, the internet, and radios, some long-dormant collective emotions seemed to awaken at that moment.

…

CCTV Sports Channel was broadcasting the live feed from Japan’s JSports.

In the footage, the host paused the athlete introductions and let the on-site sounds take over.

So the faint song in the background spread out through the live signal.

In official settings, some things can’t be commented on.

But not saying it makes it enough.

And when Xie Bingran’s cold, determined, and striking face appeared on TV, countless Chinese people met this eighteen-year-old girl for the first time.

The time, place, scene, and atmosphere all carried so much that was unusual, unspoken—the emotions and spirit…

So her appearance stood out even more, leaving a deep impression.

…

Under the fans’ orderly and powerful singing, the boos from hundreds or thousands of Japanese spectators in the opposite stands seemed disorganized and quickly faded into nothing.

In the stands, Nie Fei and Wu Feifei couldn’t hide their emotion.

Xu Chen glanced toward the opposite stands and noticed spectators from other areas drifting toward that group of fans.

In no time, at least twenty or thirty people had joined that small red sea.

Wu Feifei asked, puzzled, “How come some Japanese spectators are joining in?”

Nie Fei replied, “They might be overseas Chinese or other Chinese viewers.”

Wu Feifei: “I feel like going over there myself.”

She suddenly recalled the National Games scene and turned to Xu Chen, saying:

“Did you arrange this group of fan uncles?”

Xu Chen smiled and said:

“I don’t have that kind of pull.”

On the September 18th anniversary, facing a one-against-seven siege…

This kind of scene tied to national pride isn’t something Xu Chen could orchestrate.

For Xie Bingran,

It felt like a massive test and a grand ceremony.

And this test and ceremony couldn’t be staged by any one person…

Wu Feifei looked down at Xie Bingran running on the field and whispered earnestly:

“Go for it, Bing Ge…”

…

…

At Tonghai University, in the Little Yellow Building’s lecture hall.

Besides the original advertising majors, more freshmen and upperclassmen from the same college showed up.

Thanks to Bai Miao’s connection, this ‘East Asian Youth Games’ already had some buzz in the college. With yesterday’s September 18th and one-against-seven topics, it spread even further.

Hearing about the live viewing event in the lecture hall, students without classes hurried over.

On the projected screen, they finally saw Bai Miao and, for the first time, today’s star.

The girl who, since her debut half a year ago, knocked Bai Miao off the top spot for under-20s and is now China’s top female hurdler—Xie Bingran, facing the ‘Osaka breakout’ on September 18th.

Beyond her skills, many guys thought her looks were strikingly tough, not the usual soft and sweet type.

That uniqueness added an unexpected appeal.

The cold, brooding vibe in her refined features even made some girls feel a bit shaken.

“This girl is seriously cool…”

A lot of people pulled out their phones to search for bits about her.

Then someone asked:

“Why do they call her ‘Bing Ge’?”

…

Bing Ge hasn’t officially enrolled in university yet.

But right now, Huahai Normal University is already claiming her as one of their own.

The school’s PR has been in full swing since yesterday.

Posters of Dong Jiajia and Xie Bingran were already up around campus, and yesterday afternoon, the main paths on the main campus got special banners for Xie Bingran’s competition.

This morning, events for students to watch and cheer the live race were organized at the ‘Siqun Hall’ and ‘Music and PE Building’.

In this university she hasn’t even set foot in yet, she’s become a household name overnight.

…

At Chenfeng Technology Park, in the grand auditorium.

Xu Zhiquan arranged for a huge projector, and Wu Yue got it set up overnight.

Today, hundreds of employees gathered…

Naturally, there were also Li Rui, Zhao Feng, Fang Tao, and the rest of Bing Ge’s crew.

Li Rui made calls and brought in Li Qiang and other friends from Bing Ge’s middle school days.

Xu Zhiquan kept things casual, sitting on the floor next to Li Rui and Zhao Feng on the stage.

The group of rough guys started passing around cigarettes and lighting up.

Fang Jun, who was sitting below, got up with a straight face and joined them on stage, sitting by President Xu.

…

…

In Osaka, at Nagai Stadium.

On the eight lanes, the eight athletes were in position.

All professional athletes in their golden years of seventeen to twenty, their bodies a perfect blend of power and youth.

They adjusted their starting blocks and stood for the final prep.

Slapping their bodies to fire up their muscles and sharpen their focus.

The seven Japanese competitors all wore light white tank tops.

Xie Bingran stood on the eighth lane, her National Team red uniform standing out sharply.

The lane assignments were based on preliminary and semifinal results.

The prime spots, lanes four and five, went to Japan’s popular stars Akabane Kaoru and Tadashi Taguchi.

Both have run under 12 seconds and are absolute forces in Asian women’s short-track events.

Xie Bingran made it to the final, but her prelim and semifinal times weren’t standout.

Maybe with some home advantage bias, the only ‘foreign’ athlete got stuck on the edge lane eight, basically just supporting the seven Japanese ones.

Perhaps, as some Japanese media hyped, they saw today’s race as purely an internal Japanese showdown.

…

The arena announcer’s Japanese broadcast echoed.

Introducing each lane’s athlete one by one…

Every time a Japanese athlete was introduced, as she waved to the cameras and stands, cheers and applause erupted.

Of course, from those sections of Japanese spectators in white.

They waved red and white flags, cheering excitedly.

The roars grew even louder for Akabane Kaoru on lane four and Tadashi Taguchi on lane five.

At the National Games, Xie Bingran broke the record, surpassing Feng Youping’s 12.93 from the last Asian Games.

Now, Akabane Kaoru’s personal best is 12.88, right at Asia’s elite level.

And Tadashi Taguchi is right there with her.

No wonder the crowd is so pumped and confident about these two.

…

Through the loudspeaker, the Japanese host finally got to lane eight.

When he mangled the pronunciation of “Xie Bingran,” the Japanese spectators in the nearby stands let out another round of nasty boos.

…

Xie Bingran’s refined face appeared on the LED screen above the stands via the camera.

Her expression was icy, showing no emotion.

Just then, from that small red sea, a few more lines of spirited song floated over:

“Sister, boldly step forward!

Forward, don’t look back!

The road to heaven!

Nine thousand nine hundred, nine thousand nine hundred nine!”

…

The song came from “Red Sorghum.”

When the invaders reached Qing Sha Kou, Jiu’er brought out the sorghum wine for the warriors.

Drinking deeply, striding ahead.

A raw, fierce anti-invasion ballad.

Bleak, passionate, brutal.

The color of blood from a people who dare to live and die.

…

Wu Feifei looked moved but joked,

“Those fan uncles sure know how to stir things up…”

Nie Fei blinked and whispered,

“This is so romantic.”

…

In the stands, the Japanese spectators in white kept booing.

They probably had no idea what those rough-looking guys across the way were singing.

But whether they knew or not, it didn’t matter at all.

…

…

In that utterly still moment, the starting pistol fired.

In that breath-held instant…

Red tassel.

Like a sudden flash, the spear danced like a dragon.

…

As that red light streaked down the track.

As those seven in white fell behind in defeat.

As everyone remembered what day it was.

Time, place, people…

This instant.

Was destined to be etched into history.

…

…

In the stands, that small red sea erupted in joyous waves.

Those rough Chinese fan uncles had lost their earlier synchronized singing; now, each shouted in their own way, embracing the moment.

In the opposite stands, the Japanese spectators in white fell silent, flags drooping.

Stunned and in disbelief.

“Nani?!”

…

Wu Feifei was screaming, Nie Fei was wiping tears.

Xu Chen was smiling.

…

Through the loudspeaker, the clearly flustered Japanese host started announcing the results with a shaky voice.

That Chinese name “Xie Bingran,” which he struggled with, he now tried to pronounce as clearly as possible.

Bai Miao, Dong Jiajia, and the other teammates rushed onto the track, hugging their “little sister” tight.

Behind them, the seven Japanese competitors, including Akabane Kaoru and Tadashi Taguchi, hands on hips, sincerely or not, applauded the winner.

…

Surrounded in the middle, Xie Bingran stayed calm.

She turned her head slightly, glancing toward a certain section of the stands.

Wu Feifei suddenly stood up: “Bing Ge is looking at us!”

Nie Fei, seeming to piece it together, smiled and said:

“She’s looking at Xu Chen…”

…

That small red sea kept celebrating.

The frustration and anger they’d built up from the soccer match the day before finally poured out.

Xie Bingran jogged around the field, her teammates following.

Bing Ge walked over to the red sea area and looked up slightly.

The lead fan uncle took a large national flag from behind and shook it with all his might before handing it to Xie Bingran.

…

…

In lecture halls, grand auditoriums, Siqun Hall…

In front of countless TVs, computer screens, and phones…

A wave of Chinese celebration was sweeping through.

On CCTV Sports Channel, the host held back his emotions and said gravely:

“Remember this day, remember what date it is.

Remember this moment, it belongs to each of us.

Remember these spectators, who traveled thousands of miles overnight.

Remember this name, say it with all your might…

Xie Bingran…”

…”