Then, with a single turn, he perfectly blocked Luxemburgo and Zidane from coming face-to-face.
Zidane said nothing.
He knew exactly what Su Hang was doing—Su Hang didn't want him and Luxemburgo to have an outright confrontation.
That way, Zidane would inevitably be the first to bear the weight of public criticism.
But knowing was one thing; going along with it was another.
Back on the bench, Zidane finally snapped out of it.
"He's trying to set me up!"
Zidane was substituted.
If Real Madrid lost to Juventus, Luxemburgo could easily pin the blame on Zidane, claiming his poor performance was the cause.
If they won, the credit would go to Luxemburgo's brilliant tactics and perfect substitutions.
And with the incident of Zidane refusing to shake Luxemburgo's hand still brewing, it would be all too easy for Luxemburgo to keep him benched next season.
Even Florentino, having chosen Luxemburgo, wouldn't be able to put many limits on him.
Sinister.
From the moment he took charge of Real Madrid right up to now, Luxemburgo had been pulling off one calculated move after another.
Even someone as perceptive as Zidane, who had seen through his intentions early on, had almost fallen into the trap simply because he was caught in the middle of it.
First it was Figo.
Then it was Zidane.
Luxemburgo was methodically chipping away at the influence of the international superstars at Real Madrid—well, at least he would have, if not for Su Hang's interference.
Unfortunately for him, no matter how clever his plans or how much he stood to gain, his last two moves had failed to fully achieve their aims.
He dismissed it as mere "bad luck."
But he didn't notice that such bad luck was happening more and more often.
Suddenly—Boom!
Su Hang hadn't even finished calming Zidane down when the stadium erupted into deafening cheers.
He and Zidane instinctively turned toward the scoreboard.
A line of red text appeared.
75th minute — Juventus scored.
Scorer: Trezeguet.
Assist: Ibrahimović.
Juventus had drawn level!
Real Madrid was in real danger now.
Luxemburgo's face darkened instantly.
But Su Hang could tell from his subtle expressions that he wasn't actually panicking—his movements remained steady and deliberate.
Because this mistake? Guti, who had just been brought on, would take the blame.
Was the Spanish clique going to suffer again?
77th minute — another substitution.
Solari replaced Beckham.
Beckham, who had been focused on using corners and set pieces to push for the lead, also wore a grim expression.
Normally, it wouldn't have bothered him.
But in a match of this importance, no superstar wanted to be subbed off.
The difference between them and ordinary players is that they must deliver when it matters most—that's what defines their worth.
Now, both Zidane and Beckham had been stripped of their chance to prove their worth.
Beckham, however, wasn't as hot-tempered as Zidane. He shook Luxemburgo's hand perfunctorily, then sat down next to Su Hang and Zidane.
Luxemburgo's assistant came over and told Beckham that he had put in a lot of defensive work and might be running low on energy, so Solari had been sent on.
Beckham nodded, pretending to accept the explanation.
But as soon as the assistant left, Beckham covered his mouth with his hand.
"He's not trying to win this match, is he?"
"If we go out in the round of 16… we'll all be the laughingstock!"
No one would laugh at the young South American clique.
No one would mock players like Solari, Raúl Bravo, or Gravesen.
All the ridicule would be aimed at Real Madrid's superstars.
That would be a huge blow to Beckham and the others' reputations.
It was exactly why he hadn't wanted to come off—he wanted to fight until the end.
But then…
A few minutes later, with the score still unchanged, Zidane said, "If Luxemburgo wanted to use substitutes to break the deadlock… then after taking you and me off, he should also have replaced Raúl, Figo, or Ronaldo."
"But he didn't."
"That tells me his goal wasn't just to change the game."
His words didn't match his actions—a clear sign something was off.
He was simply looking for a scapegoat.
Zidane was already prepared to confront him after the match.
Fortunately, Guti and Solari didn't lose their heads chasing goals.
They focused on defending and held firm until the 90th minute.
Full time.
First leg: Real Madrid 1-0.
Second leg: Juventus 1-0.
Aggregate: 1-1, with no away goals for either side.
The match went into extra time.
Both teams got a brief break.
Juventus made a change—Tacchinardi came on for left-back Pessotto, a straight swap.
For Real Madrid, both Figo and Raúl were exhausted.
Figo's stamina was worse, but he was playing slightly better.
Raúl, as a shadow striker, was more effective when the team was in control. Against the run of play, he contributed less than a midfielder.
Ronaldo went over to Luxemburgo.
"Boss, I need a partner—someone who can hold the ball and stay close to me."
Luxemburgo nodded.
The Brazilian clique was the heart of the South American clique, and while Roberto Carlos might have been its figurehead, Ronaldo was its true leader.
Luxemburgo knew this well and agreed without hesitation.
He signaled for Su Hang to start warming up.
The Real Madrid fans in the stands finally came alive, chanting Su Hang's name.
But here in Juventus' home ground, those chants were drowned out by the Bianconeri anthem.
With the referee's whistle, Su Hang and Tacchinardi stepped onto the pitch.
"Oh! Su Hang is finally on the field!"
"It's been three whole months since his last appearance!"
"Coincidentally, his last injury also happened in Italy."
"That was in the Champions League match against Roma—Su Hang went in hard on De Rossi, then scored a long-range free kick to seal the win and send Real Madrid into the last sixteen."
"But the strain was too much for his leg—he suffered a soleus muscle injury."
"This time, word is he hasn't even fully recovered."
"Luxemburgo brought him mostly because of fan demand. And apparently, Florentino also saw Su Hang's last victory in Italy as a good omen."
"So, for luck, they brought him again."
"And now, unexpectedly, he's actually playing!"
"Wait, what's this…"
Just as the commentator was speaking, Raúl—already off the pitch—called Su Hang over to the sideline.
He pointed to the captain's armband on his arm, then pointed at Su Hang.
Su Hang understood and ran over.
Raúl personally strapped the captain's armband onto him.
"Hold on! This… this doesn't make sense!"
...
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