The away dressing room at the Westfalenstadion was a scene of unbridled joy. The Wolves were basking in the glow of another hard-fought victory, but as the adrenaline began to fade, reality—in the form of the league table—crept back in.
"Bayern just seem to get better the more they play," David Qin remarked, leaning back next to Kevin De Bruyne and scrolling through the match reports on his phone. "They've brushed Freiburg aside 2-0. Robben and Müller both scored. It feels like we're chasing a ghost—no matter how fast we run, we can't close the gap."
"Stay calm," De Bruyne replied, his voice a steady anchor. "It's only Matchday 16. There are eighteen games left to play. Plenty of time for a slip-up." He paused, glancing at David. "By the way, are you heading to Australia for the Asian Cup during the winter break?"
"Yeah. Why, thinking of coming along? It's a hell of a lot warmer than Germany right now. Sun, surf, and sand." David's expression turned mischievous. "Besides, you've been hitting it off with that girl you met online lately, haven't you? Perfect chance to invite her for a holiday."
De Bruyne's eyes lit up. He had been racking his brain for a way to move things forward, and David had just handed him a golden opportunity. "You think? Won't she think I'm... well, moving too fast?" He looked uncharacteristically shy.
"Man, we're all adults here. It's perfectly normal to be attracted to someone. Don't play the saint with me—I saw what was on your laptop the other day when you were supposedly 'watching match footage'..."
Before David could finish, De Bruyne lunged forward, clapping a hand over his mouth. The Belgian's eyes were wide with a silent, desperate plea for mercy.
"Fine, fine! I'll shut up," David muffled through his fingers, raising his hands in surrender. "Talk about a closet romantic."
Their banter hadn't gone unnoticed. Ivica Olić clapped David on the shoulder with a grin. "Listen to the 'adult' talk. You just turned seventeen, kid—stop acting like you've seen it all." He turned his gaze to De Bruyne, his tone turning mock-serious. "I get that you young guys have plenty of energy, but take it easy during the break. I don't want to see you back here ten pounds lighter because you've been 'over-exerting' yourself."
De Bruyne buried his face in his kit bag, pretending not to hear, while David burst into a fit of laughter.
"Hey Ivica, do you know any Croatian girls? If they're pretty, don't forget to introduce me," David joked.
"You?" Olić arched an eyebrow. "Just last week back home, there was a story about twin sisters who fell for the same man. They ended up killing him together. Think you can handle that?"
"Christ," David recoiled, half-joking. "Are the women in your country all that fierce? Maybe I'll stick to the German girls. Maximilian, any leads?"
He had imagined the "twin" scenario going very differently in his head. Evidently, the reality of such a situation was far more perilous than the fantasy.
"David! This was your last game of the year," Dieter Hecking said, rapping on the door. "Get changed. You're joining me for the press conference."
Hecking had shielded David from the media circus until now, wanting him to focus solely on the pitch. But the clamor was becoming impossible to ignore. In the modern game, the spotlight was inevitable; better to let him face it now and find his feet.
"On it, Boss!" David jumped up, swapping his kit for a fresh tracksuit and checking his hair in the mirror.
At the post-match press conference, Jürgen Klopp looked like a man who had fought a war and lost. "We lost the match. There are no excuses," he said shortly. "But I am not leaving Dortmund yet. The winter window is opening, and we will be active. We will do everything to change our reality."
In professional football, results are the only currency that matters. Without them, even the most beloved manager is standing on shifting sand.
In the adjacent room, the atmosphere was different. Snap! Click! Flash! The cameras were a rhythmic strobe light, and the room was buzzing with a chaotic energy. The press hadn't expected David Qin to make an appearance. Once the room settled, the moderator opened the floor.
"Hello, David! Zhang Wei from Xinhua News Agency," a man said, holding his microphone with visible pride. "It's been four months since you joined Wolfsburg, and your record has been nothing short of spectacular. How are you feeling about your journey so far?"
"First and foremost, I have to thank the club, the coaching staff, my teammates, and the fans," David began, his tone a mix of humility and quiet confidence. "I wouldn't be standing here without their support. My coach always tells me not to let success go to my head—I still have a long way to go. This is just the beginning. I plan on being even better in the future."
"Follow-up question," Zhang Wei continued. "The Chinese national team has released the roster for January's Asian Cup, and you're a key part of it. What kind of result do you think the team can achieve?"
"In football, anything is possible," David replied diplomatically. "I can't give you a prediction, but I can promise this: I will give everything I have. I don't want to leave that tournament with any regrets."
He knew the fans back home had been starved of success for decades. He knew they wanted a trophy. But he also knew that a twenty-year gap in quality couldn't be closed overnight. Even with a tactical fit like Alain Perrin and his own rapid development, you can only run so fast; you can't teleport to the finish line.
"Hello, I'm from the Munich Daily," another reporter broke in. "Wolfsburg is currently the only team keeping pace with Bayern. Do you truly believe you have what it takes to challenge for the Bundesliga title?"
"Believe?" David's expression sharpened, a flash of arrogance crossing his face. He disliked the reporter's condescending tone, as if merely being mentioned in the same breath as Bayern was a prize in itself. "I think our results have already proven that we have more than just belief. We have the quality."
Bayern were giants, yes. Their trophy cabinet was absurdly overstuffed. But that didn't make the rest of the league mere NPCs in a Bayern simulation. Every club had its own history, its own pride.
"Bold words," the reporter smiled thinly. "Many young players have come before you thinking they could challenge the giants. Speaking of giants... reports suggest Bayern have contacted Wolfsburg about a possible transfer. If given the chance, would you return to Munich?"
The reporter's trap was set. In the Bundesliga, few could say no to the allure of the Allianz Arena. Mario Götze and Toni Kroos were living proof. If David said yes now, after his "pride" speech, he'd look like a hypocrite.
"I'm sorry, but in my country, we have a proverb: A fine horse never turns back to eat the grass it left behind," David said, his eyes cold. "And I consider myself a very fine horse."
The quote ignited a firestorm across the German football landscape. Bayern's hardcore supporters couldn't stomach the idea of a discarded talent showing zero sentiment for the club. "If you can't have him, destroy him" became the prevailing sentiment on social media, but David couldn't have cared less.
He had more important things on his mind. Before Matchday 17, Hecking informed him that his winter break started early. David didn't argue. He had played nearly every minute of the season so far, and while his mind was sharp, his body was flagging. With the Asian Cup starting on January 10th—where he was guaranteed to start every game—he needed to recharge.
It was time to go home. Time to see the parents he hadn't laid eyes on since his "arrival" in this world.
By December 21st, the Bundesliga had officially entered the winter break.
@BundesligaxBanter: Wolfsburg without David Qin is like a car with three wheels. The left side is stagnant and De Bruyne looks frustrated. #WOB
@TacticalGnome1: It's because Qin draws a triple-team every time he touches the ball. Without that gravity, De Bruyne is being smothered. Hecking needs to buy another winger in Jan.
@CFA_Watch: Forget the Bundesliga, Qin is back in Shenzhen! Just saw a photo of him at the airport. If he plays like he does for the Wolves, we might actually win a group game for once.
Shenzhen. The City of the Roc. In Chinese culture, the Dapeng bird symbolizes power, freedom, and an indomitable spirit. The city shared those traits.
David pulled his suitcase along the pavement, looking at the familiar yet strange surroundings. It was a city of constant change; every time he returned in his "past life," the streets seemed different, the buildings taller. He felt a sudden, sharp pang of "homecoming anxiety."
Just as he was about to keep moving, a hand patted his shoulder.
"Xiao Ming! You've been abroad for years—about time you came back!" A middle-aged woman with a grocery basket smiled at him, pointing to a red banner hanging over the community gate. "Your parents said you're a big deal now, playing soccer in Germany? Look, the neighborhood committee put that up last month. You're our local hero!"
"Oh, Xiao Ming! I've been waiting for you!" An old man waked from a nap on a nearby bench. He was a die-hard fan. He wrapped his puffer jacket tighter and rushed over with a China national team jersey. "You have to sign this. My friends in the fan chat are driving me crazy, bragging about going to Germany to see games. I'll show them!"
David felt a flush of embarrassment as he signed the jersey. He was looking for an escape when a familiar voice cut through the air.
"Hey, hey! Stop shouting or you'll have the whole street swarming the house!"
A woman with short, curly hair stepped out of the stairwell. David had inherited her eyes—those distinct, phoenix-like eyes were a mirror image.
"Come on, son," Tian Man said, pulling David's arm affectionately. "Your dad and I bought all the groceries. We're making all your favorites."
Inside the apartment, David scanned the room. The decor was pure 90s nostalgia—the TV and fridge were older than some of his teammates.
"I'm actually making a fair bit of money now," David said, feeling a sudden, awkward tension. "Maybe we should think about moving to a nicer place?"
-------------
Prepare yourselves for tomorrow's mass release!
---------
If you want to read ahead, head over to: [email protected]/HappyCrow
As always, thank you for the support, the comments, and those precious power stones!