Chapter 35: Journey to Country D

This story is entirely a work of fiction.

Time flies, and in that eagerly awaited, passionate June of 2006, the eyes of football fans around the world converged upon a long-anticipated occasion—the return of the World Football Championship after four years. At the headquarters of MC, Will was busy with preparations for the grand event. Once everything was ready, he would lead a team of scouts to Country D to observe players’ performances in the tournament.

Given that he would be away for over a month, Will dreaded the prospect of being alone in Country D. He called Gao Yating. “During the World Football Championship, I’ll be taking a scouting team to Country D for a month. Darling, would you like to come with me?”

On the screen, Gao Yating’s face was radiant, her former worries long gone. “Dahe’s business has entered a period of rapid development, and there’s so much I need to handle personally. My deputy has become inattentive to his responsibilities, and if I leave, I’m afraid something might go wrong.”

In truth, Gao Yating was making excuses. With Yunjiu now in her life, everything had settled into an ideal state, one she had never experienced before, and she was perfectly content.

“If you don’t want to go, I won’t force you,” Will replied, a little disappointed. “Focus on Dahe’s business; you must surpass HN’s level. Only then can you stay unbeaten in the competition. After the championship ends, I’ll come to Dahe to see you.”

“I’ll be waiting for you here, anytime,” Gao Yating replied before ending the video call.

Meanwhile, Chi Zhaoming was packing at home for his trip to Country D. He had bought a large suitcase at the market, specifically for going abroad. His colleagues had entrusted him with requests for gifts and luxury goods, which he intended to bring back.

“You’ll be gone for over a month, and I’ll be left to fend for myself. Maybe I’ll use this chance to start dieting,” said Dujuan to Chi Zhaoming.

“Even when I’m not here, you must eat on time. You can go to my parents’ for meals. Otherwise, dieting may affect your health—you need to take care,” he replied.

After packing, Chi Zhaoming sat on the bed with Dujuan, talking late into the night.

A few days later, Chi Zhaoming and the sports team from Dahe Television set off early for the beautiful city of M, where they would broadcast the excitement of the World Football Championship to their audience. As the plane soared, his mind was filled with thoughts of football.

He had always admired the prowess of the German Panzer, the wild dance of the Brazilian squad, the eagle-like flight of the Argentine team, and he could never forget the sorrowful gaze of the Prince of Melancholy.

He’d had a chance to witness them in the previous World Football Championship, but illness had kept him in the hospital, causing him to miss out. In hindsight, he felt fortunate—if he’d gone, China’s disappointing performance would have only made him more despondent.

During high school, when young intellectuals from Dahe worked as doctors in his small town, he often saw football matches on their family television. At the time, he couldn’t understand the excitement—a ninety-minute match, sometimes with no goals, what was the point?

But later, at school, he and his classmates watched the match between China and XP at the school gate. In the 60,000-seat national stadium of XP, the final qualifying match for the Asian region was underway. If China won, they would secure a ticket to the S World Football Championship that year. Everything seemed in China’s favor—an overwhelming Chinese cheering section organized by the local Chinese community, a fair-minded referee from Brazil—yet, under relentless pressure from the physically superior opponents, skilled players like Rong Yihang and Gu Guangming couldn’t shine. In the end, China lost.

When the referee blew the final whistle, the stadium plunged from a roaring sea into a desolate abyss. The sight of tens of thousands of Chinese fans, their flags drooping, tears glistening in their eyes, moved Chi Zhaoming deeply. He could not let it go for a long time. From that moment, he fell in love with football—not just Europe’s five grand leagues but even China’s hapless team. He followed their heroic, if tragic, attempts to qualify for the World Football Championship. China’s football history seemed a compendium of every possible defeat and farce, yet his passion remained undimmed.

Arriving in the splendid city of M, Chi Zhaoming could barely contain his excitement. On the day of the opening ceremony, he and his colleagues brought a football feast to Dahe’s audience. While CCTV broadcast the grand ceremony, other local stations edited and aired highlights, earning praise from fans.

Chi Zhaoming was especially enraptured by the World Cup anthem from Country D; its lyrics resonated with him. Using his knowledge of music arrangement and modern elements, he translated the anthem into Chinese and sang it with his rich, clear voice, giving it new life.

Fans sang Chi Zhaoming’s version of the anthem in Dahe’s Riverside Square, where it played on public screens and boosted the sports channel’s ratings.

Beyond the thrilling matches, Chi Zhaoming felt a sense of mission, eager to demonstrate his analytical skills on the grand stage of the World Football Championship. Yet, he was unaware of the hidden mysteries and profound secrets within football.

For several years, he had drifted away from the sport. Fate, however, had other plans; his job brought him back in contact with football, and the arrival of Xiao Jin unsettled his peaceful life.

Though they had not known each other long, Xiao Jin often boasted about his expertise in football betting, claiming both enjoyment and financial gain. Unwittingly, his words influenced Chi Zhaoming.

Watching his wife Dujuan worry over buying a house, his son’s disappointment at losing out on one, and feeling his own helplessness to fulfill their modest desires, Chi Zhaoming felt frustrated. The betting project before him seemed like a ray of hope in his despair.

He had no idea that, from this moment, he was stepping ever closer to the abyss—a bottomless pit where his tragedy would unfold, step by step.

The MC Entertainment Company’s building was ablaze with light. The grand, aviary-shaped structure spanned five stories, each floor arranged according to the players’ ranks.

In the first-floor lobby, all the walls were lined with wraparound television screens, displaying leagues and international matches from around the world, including lower-tier EG and YY matches. Most prominent were the World Football Championship games and related highlights.

The ground floor featured a bar counter that circled the room. Inside, staff members sat wearing headsets, responding to calls and watching their assigned screens with utmost focus. They relayed instructions to staff at the venue in M, and received live reports. “Station One in position, Station Two in position, Station Three in position…”

In the ground-floor general manager’s office, Will of MC Entertainment was on a call with Gao Yating in HZ. The betting business in HZ was crucial to MC Entertainment; during the World Cup, bets would multiply thousands of times, and police would conduct surprise inspections. Will reminded Gao Yating to stay vigilant, recalling the raid at the Lukang Garden betting point a year ago, which had caught them off guard due to a lack of inside information.

On Will’s screen, Gao Yating appeared as beautiful and alluring as ever, speaking fluent English as they discussed betting operations during the World Cup. She assured Will that all necessary arrangements were in place.

Will, noticing how much more charming and attractive she had become, couldn’t help but compliment her, switching to Chinese, “You’re getting more beautiful—I miss you so much.”

For Gao Yating, Will was a constant, real presence. Without him, she wouldn’t be who she was today. She was deeply grateful for his past help and companionship. Though he was aging and could no longer satisfy her physically, she remained thankful, her voice gentle: “I miss you too. Come inspect our operations in Dahe when you have the chance.”

“Absolutely, I’ll make time to visit Dahe. It’s a beautiful city, a captivating one. I’ll come after the World Cup, and we’ll explore the city together,” Will replied, smiling broadly. “I’ll hang up now.”

“All right, goodbye!” Gao Yating ended the call, and the screen went dark.

In June, the first match was held in M. Country D was to face GSD. The stadium was surrounded by television crews from all over the world, as well as MC Entertainment’s operators stationed pitch-side. Wearing headsets, they relayed real-time information to headquarters, swiftly editing and transmitting updates to Will. His assistants bustled about, ensuring there would be no delays or errors in their reporting.

In his office, Will monitored every message from M. He frequently checked the betting computers, observing the odds and the flow of wagers. Their aim was to keep the bets balanced so they could reap profits effortlessly. Their system worked by taking a ten percent margin—if the bets on both sides were equal, they could pocket that margin without risk.

For the match between Country D and GSD, the European odds were 1.29, 4.50, and 10.00. The odds of 1 to 4.5 virtually ruled out a GSD victory, or even a draw. Thus, the handicap was set at Country D giving a goal and a half, meaning a bet on Country D required them to win by at least two goals. Given D’s status as a historically strong team, they conducted public opinion surveys, which confirmed that D beating GSD was expected, but whether they could win by two goals or more was uncertain. Therefore, MC launched a massive pre-match publicity campaign.

They published analyses by European experts—Wootton, Wilshire, and Dejan—on football websites, as well as the opinions of football veterans from Africa and City H.

One prominent tip for the first match warned that opening matches at the World Cup were often breeding grounds for upsets. The special feature “The Smart Bet Is on the Underdog” sparked heated discussion online, recalling the previous World Cup’s opening match, when even France had lost to Senegal. Many wondered if GSD might pull off another earth-shaking upset. As a result, many punters placed heavy bets on the underdog.

Will watched the betting curves fluctuate, feeling the match unfold exactly as he had anticipated. The volume of bets soared, especially in HZ and Dahe. By closing time, the wagers were essentially balanced. With the odds for the favorite at just 0.7 at closing, Will estimated that thirty percent of the revenue was already in his pocket. He grinned, a ferocious smile.

Gao Yating felt calm; she knew it was normal for strong teams to attract heavy betting. Seeing the nearly equal wagers on both sides, she believed their pre-match publicity had been successful. She allowed herself to relax.

Chi Zhaoming judged that Country D would win, but wasn’t sure they could win by two goals. However, the starting total at 2.5 suggested at least three goals would be scored. If Country D covered the spread, winning by two goals was likely. So, he boldly wagered two thousand yuan on Country D. He saw that his potential winnings were only sixteen hundred yuan, regretting not betting when the odds were higher, but decided that a smooth sixteen hundred profit was still good.

He waited anxiously for the match to end. Thanks to Klose’s two goals, Country D beat GSD 4–2—exactly a two-goal margin. Throughout the match, his heart pounded, fearing some mishap, but in the end, all went well.

Back at the hotel, after a shower, it was already 2 a.m. Beijing time. He went to bed with a smile, dreaming sweet dreams. When his colleagues called him for breakfast, he found himself drooling in his sleep, and laughed at his own silly expression, wiping his mouth and getting up to start the day.

(To be continued)