Chapter 079: Deceiving the Heavens to Cross the Sea

This story is purely a work of fiction.

Chi Zhaoming watched intently as the odds for Dahe’s match fluctuated. Dahe was giving a half-one handicap; the odds rose and fell unpredictably, making some bettors believe Dahe’s victory was all but assured.

Because of the half-one line, the highest water level for Dahe was only 1.26. If they won by half, it would be just 0.63; if they won by a single goal, halved as per the line, the odds would drop to a mere 0.3.

The erratic odds gave Chi Zhaoming the premonition that Dahe would win. He placed his bet when the odds peaked, not caring about the fluctuations.

He thought to himself that last time’s loss must have infuriated Hao Benshan. For today’s match, the club had issued a must-win directive, and the players seemed determined. The prospects of victory were high. Whatever the outcome, a half-win was still a win; winning was always better than losing. He clicked to bet on Dahe’s victory and began the wait for the match to start.

In the first twenty minutes after kickoff, Dahe’s players performed admirably. Chi Zhaoming’s mood was neither good nor bad, but in the final three minutes of the first half, Dahe finally broke through the opponent’s defense and scored. With a 1-0 lead at halftime, hope glimmered for recouping his losses. If Dahe could push on in the second half and score another goal—or two—it would be even better.

Yet, despite the 1-0 lead, Chi Zhaoming felt uneasy. The team’s performance in the latter part of the half left much to be desired. One goal meant only a half-win. How he wished Dahe would continue to score in the second half for a total victory.

He refreshed his betting page; the current potential winnings showed 6,300 yuan. If he won the full bet, it would total 12,600 yuan. For the first time in a long while, a smile crept onto his face.

Relaxing a little, he said to Xiaobian, who was in charge of broadcasting, “I’m going to the locker room to get some inside information, see what tactics Dahe has in store for the second half.”

Xiaobian replied, “Don’t worry, I’ve got things covered here.”

Chi Zhaoming’s stated reason for going was to gather intelligence, but really, he wanted to probe the club’s intentions given the current 1-0 situation and see their second-half plans.

He presented his press card upon entering the locker room.

Inside, domestic sports reporters gathered, congratulating club officials and players on their first-half lead.

The players, just off the field, were sweating profusely, some stripped to the waist. Injured players were being massaged by team doctors; one, in particular, yelped in pain, “Easy, easy, you’re using too much force!”

As the sports director from Dahe TV, Chi Zhaoming was familiar with the club officials and received greetings from many as he moved through the room.

He spotted Coach Nian Weiyi, approached, and greeted him. “Coach Nian, good afternoon!”

Seeing it was the director from Dahe TV’s sports department, Nian Weiyi replied warmly, shaking his hand.

“Your team’s offense in the first half was absolutely ruthless!” Chi Zhaoming flattered, not even knowing himself why he spoke so effusively, but aware that the first half at least promised some return on his bet.

“Oh, not at all. This isn’t our best form. The team’s performance was just barely satisfactory, Director—we still have a lot to improve!” Coach Nian replied with humility.

In truth, Chi Zhaoming was quite dissatisfied with the team’s performance. But he couldn’t voice this to the head coach, especially with the team still leading.

He then followed Hao Benshan into the officials’ area of the locker room.

At that moment, Hao Benshan’s phone rang. The caller ID was unfamiliar. He answered, but the noise made it impossible to hear, so he stepped outside.

The caller introduced herself as the mother of the team’s main striker, calling to question why her son had lost his starting position.

“Whether a player takes the field is up to the head coach. How did you get my number? Why ask me? Who put you up to this?” Hao Benshan was perplexed.

“Um…” the woman hesitated, then replied, “No one put me up to it—I just saw my son had lost his place and wanted an explanation.”

Inside, club officials were explaining to the reporters the reasons for the previous match’s penalty and abrupt end, citing the team’s lack of form and other objective factors. They boasted of rapid improvement after a week’s training and promised to satisfy both fans and the club’s top brass with today’s match.

These words struck a chord with Chi Zhaoming. He truly hoped Dahe would claim a resounding victory today; the result was crucial for him.

To be honest, it had been a long time since his “associate” had delivered money to him on a Monday.

Such days left him in despair, unable to see a way out. Not losing today’s match had become his greatest hope.

The atmosphere in the locker room was normal—neither good nor bad. Club officials spoke with great caution.

When pressed by some reporters, a high-ranking club official sidestepped, “There are over forty minutes left in the match. We’ll see the outcome then.”

From Hao Benshan’s tone, Chi Zhaoming sensed the club’s top brass was determined to win.

He prayed silently that their resolve would drive the team to victory. He asked for nothing else.

The fifteen-minute halftime was intense, balancing rest for the players with tactical preparations.

Chi Zhaoming deliberately stood close to Hao Benshan, making others think they were friends. The club began clearing out unnecessary personnel from the locker room. The general manager called out, “Ladies and gentlemen, in the second half we will bring you an even more exciting match. We will give our all, fight to the end, and present our boss Hao with a worthy result. Now, please allow us to discuss tactics. Journalists, please leave the locker room.”

After the reporters left, the general manager scanned the room. Noticing Hao Benshan was absent, he said, “Forget everything I just said—you all know what I really mean.”

The players understood perfectly. The club’s intention was to lose, allowing the organization to reap benefits behind the scenes. Such things were routine by now.

The general manager swept his gaze around, noting that Hao Benshan had been called away by a prearranged phone call.

The club officials’ behavior was suspicious—they were doing things behind Hao Benshan’s back, afraid he might discover their plot.

The players and staff in the room were not fools; they followed the club’s orders. This wasn’t their first time. They found it odd, though, that Hao Benshan was being kept in the dark.

Even though they knew there were backroom deals, as players, their duty was obedience. They would shoot wherever they were ordered. Winning wasn’t certain, but losing was always easy.

After the general manager’s words, the players responded in unison, “Understood!”

Hao Benshan, reentering the corridor after his call, heard the players’ thunderous reply and felt a surge of energy.

By the time he returned, the general manager had finished speaking. The players were ready to take the field for the second half.

Hao Benshan looked at his team. Despite the previous defeat, today’s fighting spirit brought him some comfort.

The second half began. Dahe’s players fought hard, launching wave after wave of attacks. Unfortunately, their finishing was poor—shots went wide or soared over the goal, drawing sighs from the crowd.

Though they failed to score, Hao Benshan, seated in the VIP section, nodded in satisfaction.

By the seventieth minute, the score remained 1-0.

Chi Zhaoming watched anxiously, pacing back and forth, uneasy over the 10,000 yuan he’d bet on Dahe. The narrow lead offered no security; at any moment, it could disappear. If the bet failed, the difference between winning and losing was immense. Victory would be a relief, but if he lost, he wouldn’t be able to pay his associate on Monday.

He was restless, desperately hoping Dahe would widen their lead; the bigger the margin, the safer he’d feel.

Reality, however, was cruel, as if playing a huge joke on Chi Zhaoming.

As the match neared its end, the score remained 1-0.

(To be continued)