Inside the player tunnel, Lu Chuan's gaze met Real Betis's center-back Marc Bartra's eyes.
Bartra's face held the usual ease of a La Liga player facing lower-tier opponents, with a hint of careless weariness in his eyes.
Lu Chuan's eyes were like a lone wolf about to hunt, calm and focused. He knew this was the mountain he had to climb today.
The air in the tunnel was heavy, and the collision of their gazes produced silent sparks.
Bartra's eyes swept over Lu Chuan, saying nothing, but his expression was more hurtful than any taunt. Lu Chuan took a deep breath, clenching his fists.
The lights of Vallecas Stadium illuminated the pitch brightly, and the fans in the stands had already begun to revel.
The "Bukaneros" fan group in the South Stand waved huge flags, and deafening songs echoed through the sky.
Rayo Vallecano
Formation: 4-4-2
Goalkeeper: Stole Dimitrievski
Defenders: Luis Advíncula, Alejandro Catena, Esteban Savić, Antonio Luna
Midfielders: Isi Palazón, Santi Comesaña, Mario Suárez, Álvaro García
Forwards: Lu Chuan, Óscar Trejo
Real Betis
Formation: 4-2-3-1
Goalkeeper: Dani Martín
Defenders: Emerson, Aïssa Mandi, Marc Bartra, Alfonso Pedraza
Defensive Midfielders: Edgar González, William Carvalho
Midfielders: Joaquín Sánchez (Captain), Sergio Canales, Cristian Tello
Forward: Borja Iglesias
Just 3 minutes into the match, Lu Chuan attempted to use his speed to beat Bartra.
He received the ball in midfield, turned to face the defense, his leg muscles tensed, ready to explode.
Just as he was about to complete the overtake, the experienced Bartra executed an incredibly precise sliding tackle, taking both him and the ball down.
Turf and dirt flew up, Lu Chuan fell heavily to the ground, a sharp pain shooting through his shoulder.
The referee whistled for a foul but did not issue a card. Bartra walked over, looking down at Lu Chuan on the ground, a trace of a disdainful smile on his lips.
"Kid, this is La Liga," Bartra's voice was low, but it carried a cold threat.
Lu Chuan gritted his teeth and got up from the ground, brushing off the grass. His eyes grew even more determined.
He didn't respond, just silently straightened his jersey, secretly noting this warning.
Real Betis displayed strong control of the game.
Their midfield maestros, Sergio Canales and Portugal international William Carvalho, acted like two metronomes, firmly controlling the pace of the match.
Canales's passes were all precise, and Carvalho's interceptions were watertight.
The ball circulated among Betis players, and the entire Rayo Vallecano team was pinned in their own half, running ragged.
Lu Chuan received almost no decent support in the attacking third.
He kept running, trying to find opportunities, but Betis's defense was as solid as an iron barrel, without any weaknesses.
"Compress! Maintain formation! Don't press too easily!" Paco Jémez roared from the sidelines, his voice particularly piercing in the noisy stadium.
He knew that once the formation was stretched, with Rayo Vallecano's strength, they would quickly collapse.
His tactical setup was to "endure," to wait for the opponent to make a mistake, and then deliver a fatal blow.
Paco's fingers tapped unconsciously on the tactics board, the rhythm getting faster and faster, revealing his inner anxiety.
Lu Chuan not only had to face Bartra but also had to contend with the other center-back, Aïssa Mandi.
The Algerian international's defensive style was even more aggressive, constantly harassing Lu Chuan with small fouls.
During a header challenge, Mandi's elbow struck Lu Chuan's ribs hard, causing him a sharp pain. He bent over, covering his ribs with his hand, breathing rapidly.
"What's wrong, little one?" Mandi walked past with a sneer, deliberately bumping Lu Chuan with his shoulder. "If you can't handle it, go home to mommy."
Lu Chuan gritted his teeth, the stinging pain in his ribs making his eye twitch. He straightened up, forcibly suppressing the anger deep in his chest.
In the 28th minute,
Real Betis's legendary captain, 38-year-old Joaquín, used a classic step-over on the right wing to outwit Rayo Vallecano's left-back, Antonio Luna.
Joaquín's movements were fluid, every feint full of deception. Luna was completely thrown off balance, his center of gravity lost, and he could only watch as Joaquín flew past him.
Joaquín then delivered a precise cross, the ball arcing perfectly.
Striker Borja Iglesias leaped high, heading for goal, but his shot was bravely saved by goalkeeper Dimitrievski.
The Betis fans in the stands gasped in admiration, cheering for the brilliant attack.
Joaquín waved to the crowd, a confident smile on his face.
In the 35th minute, Rayo Vallecano finally launched a decent counter-attack.
Defensive midfielder Santi Comesaña won the ball and sent a long pass, the ball arcing through the air.
Lu Chuan used his speed advantage to sprint forward, his legs as strong as steel, every step full of explosive power.
Bartra chased relentlessly, the distance between them constantly shrinking.
At the edge of the penalty area, Lu Chuan reached the ball first, but instead of shooting, he stopped abruptly and dribbled, attempting to fake out Bartra.
He deftly pulled the ball inward with his right foot, making a feint to break through to the right.
Bartra's defensive anticipation was top-notch; he wasn't fooled by the feint and maintained his balance.
He used a clean block to push Lu Chuan aside, and the ball was collected by the onrushing goalkeeper Dani Martín.
In this offensive-defensive duel, Lu Chuan was completely defeated. He stood in place, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his cheeks.
In the vip box in the stands, a middle-aged man in a suit wrote in his notebook: "Fast, impactful, but against top defenders, his ball handling details and physical confrontation are clearly insufficient."
The assistant next to him pushed up his glasses and whispered, "Should we lower his rating?"
The middle-aged man shook his head: "Let's observe a bit longer, this kid still has a killer look in his eyes."
"But he's clearly at a disadvantage against Bartra," the assistant continued to analyze, "From the few confrontations just now, there's indeed a gap in technical details."
The middle-aged man closed his notebook and leaned back in his chair: "The intensity of La Liga is no joke, being able to persist under this pressure is already good."
"What did Coach Li say?" the assistant asked.
The middle-aged man looked towards the field and said to his assistant, "Let's see if he can hold on in the second half."
The first half ended with a 0-0 draw. Back in the locker room, Rayo Vallecano's players were panting, everyone feeling immense pressure.
Lu Chuan sat in the corner, looking down at his boots, constantly replaying every moment of his confrontation with Bartra in his mind.
His fists were clenched.
Captain Óscar walked over and patted Lu Chuan's shoulder: "Kid, don't overthink it."
"I'm fine." Lu Chuan looked up, his eyes gleaming with an unyielding spirit.
Álvaro García wiped his sweat, shaking his head with a bitter smile: "Damn, that old fox Joaquín almost made fools of all of us."
"Their passing is truly formidable." José Pozo took a sip of his sports drink, "It feels like the ball is never at our feet."
Mario Suárez took off his jersey, revealing a body drenched in sweat: "This is the pace of La Liga, lads, you have to adapt."
Paco Jémez didn't get angry; he just looked calmly at Lu Chuan: "Kid, this is the intensity of La Liga. Are you scared?"
Lu Chuan looked up, meeting the coach's gaze.
"If you're scared, you won't play in the second half." Paco's tone was flat, but every word was like a knife.
"I need a warrior, not a scared rookie."
Óscar frowned: "Coach, Lu Chuan has tried very hard."
"Hard?" Paco sneered, "Bartra is toying with him, is that trying hard?"
"Then you let the rest of us try to deal with Bartra!" Álvaro couldn't help but retort.
Paco turned to Álvaro, his eyes sharp: "Do you think you can do it?"
Álvaro opened his mouth but ultimately didn't answer.
Suárez stood up, trying to ease the atmosphere: "Coach, we all know Betis is strong, but we're not pushovers either."
Paco nodded, his gaze returning to Lu Chuan: "I'll ask one last time, are you scared?"
Lu Chuan looked up, the earlier sense of defeat ignited by Paco's words, and the fire in his eyes flared up again.
He stood up, looking directly at Paco: "Coach, not only do I want to play, I want to score."
The once noisy locker room seemed to freeze.
Óscar, Suárez, everyone's eyes were on Lu Chuan.
He turned to Captain Óscar, his voice low and firm: "Óscar, in the second half, give me the ball, and I will deal with him."
Óscar was stunned for a moment, then showed a relieved smile: "Okay, I believe you."
Paco's lips curved slightly upward, but he quickly returned to a serious expression: "Then prove it to me."
Lu Chuan said no more, only muttering to himself: Second half, just you wait.