So what if I'm just strolling around the field? My shots are guaranteed to go in.

Meanwhile, in China, the sun had just risen.

The game started at 3:45 a.m. and ended at 6:00 a.m.

But it was a weekend, and no one slept in. From Mohe to Sansha, from Shanghai to Lhasa, the entire country was experiencing a collective celebration.

CCTV's sports channel urgently added a special program, directly canceling the originally planned aerobics tutorial.

Host Zhang Bin sat in the studio with a thick stack of comments from netizens in front of him, each one radiating intense interest.

"Let's look at a few comments from netizens." Zhang Bin's voice was a little hoarse from staying up all night, but his spirits were unusually high. "This netizen named 'Xiaoming Who Loves Football' said—'I'm forty-two years old this year and have been watching football for twenty-five years. From Jia A to the Chinese Super League, from Schlapner to Lippi, I've been waiting for a Chinese person to stand out in the world's highest level of competition. I thought I would have to wait until I was at least sixty. Lin Fan, thank you for letting me fulfill my dream eighteen years early.'"

"And then there's this 'Camp Nou Grass'—what a fitting name—who said: 'The moment Lin Fan put his hand to his lips, I cried. Not because of excitement, but because I suddenly realized that we Chinese have waited too long for this moment. Not for a goal, not for a victory, but for someone who can say no to 98,000 people at Camp Nou.'"

Similar discussions are everywhere.

On Weibo, Lin Fan's account gained 12 million followers overnight.

His most recent post was three days ago, and it only had four words: "Ready".

At the time, nobody cared. Now, the comment section of this post has been flooded with 1.3 million comments and the number of likes has exceeded 8 million.

The most popular comment was only ten characters long: "El Clásico, you're so well prepared."

Sports Weekly turned its entire front page into a giant poster of Lin Fan, with no text except a line of small print in the lower right corner: "Lin Fan, October 15, 2016, Camp Nou." The newspaper sold out by 10 a.m. and had to be reprinted urgently.

The People's Daily's sports section didn't use pictures. They used text—a commentary titled "From the Dirt Field to Camp Nou," which was only a thousand words long, but every paragraph was wildly shared on social media.

The last paragraph of the article reads as follows:

"From kicking a tattered football on a dirt field at the age of six to silencing 98,000 people at Camp Nou at the age of nineteen, Lin Fan took thirteen years. In those thirteen years, there were no spotlights, no cheers, no flowers or applause. Only extra training under the scorching sun, only running laps in the rain and snow, only those lonely hours on the training field alone. He knew that without this loneliness, there would be no glory today. This is Lin Fan's story. This is also the story of all dreams."

Xinhua News Agency posted a tweet with a close-up photo of Lin Fan bending down to pluck a blade of grass at Camp Nou after the match. The caption was only seven words: "He did it. We can do it too."

In sports schools across the country, tens of thousands of children spontaneously head to the training field on weekend mornings.

A reporter interviewed an eight-year-old student and asked him why he suddenly came to practice more.

The child replied, "Because Brother Lin Fan said that as long as we play well, what's meant to come will come."

In Lin Fan's hometown, the banner hanging at the entrance of the sports school was no longer sufficient.

The principal had a new sign made overnight and nailed it to the most conspicuous position at the school gate, which read "Lin Fan's Alma Mater".

Several golden characters gleamed in the morning sunlight.

Qiqi's coach, Wang Jianguo, was inundated with calls from all over the country, but he didn't answer a single one because he was teaching a group of six-year-old children on the training field.

When class ended, someone asked him why he didn't stop training for a day to celebrate. Wang Jianguo replied, "Lin Fan was training today too. He didn't stop. What right do I have to stop?"

2 PM, Valdebebas training base.

The October sun in Madrid was still blazing, and the dew on the grass had long since evaporated.

Ancelotti gave the whole team a day off – last night's exertion was too much, and everyone needed to recover.

But Lin Fan still appeared on the training field.

He was wearing training clothes and had set up a row of soccer balls by himself at the free-kick spot.

After reviewing last night's free kick that went straight into the top corner, he felt that the timing of the contact could be optimized by 0.001 seconds—if the force had been applied a little later, the ball's drop would have been more sudden, and Bravo wouldn't have even been able to touch it with his fingertips.

He took thirty kicks. His accuracy was 60%.

That wasn't enough. He continued to punish.

Sweat soaked his clothes, and grass clippings clung to his socks. The sunlight cast a long shadow across the green grass.

When he was on his seventy-second kick, he heard footsteps. More than one person.

He turned around and saw the entire Real Madrid first team—Ronaldo, Modric, Ramos, Benzema, Bale, Kroos, Casemiro, Navas—with Ancelotti and Zidane at the very back. They were supposed to be resting, but no one could truly rest.

Cristiano Ronaldo was holding a phone with the screen lit up. He walked up to Lin Fan and showed him the phone screen.

Three photos are displayed on the screen: one of Messi, one of Ronaldo, and one of Lin Fan. The three photos are placed side-by-side, with their respective season statistics displayed below.

Messi – 10 appearances, 12 goals, 5 assists.

Cristiano Ronaldo – 12 appearances, 14 goals, 4 assists.

Lin Fan – Nine appearances, ten goals, thirteen assists.

Above the photo is a bold headline: "2016 Golden Globe Awards – A Three-Way Battle?"

"See that?" Ronaldo put his phone away, a smile playing on his lips. "The whole world is talking about the Ballon d'Or right now. You, me, and Messi. The three of us."

Modric walked up from behind and said in his Croatian-accented English, "At this time of year, the Ballon d'Or race is usually polarized. It's either Messi or Ronaldo, and everyone else is just a runner-up. This year is different—the three fan groups are arguing fiercely online, and no one can convince the others."

"So who do you support?" Bell asked with a smile.

Modric shrugged: "I support Real Madrid. But the Ballon d'Or—"

"There's only one Ballon d'Or," Ramos chimed in, his expression serious, not joking. "Lin, I'm not kidding. Your current stats—ten goals and thirteen assists—would be Ballon d'Or level in any year. And you also have a masterpiece like two goals and two assists in El Clásico. If you maintain this form until the end of the year, you can definitely be in the top three."

Lin Fan didn't speak. He positioned the ball, took a run-up, and shot. The ball flew over the wall of players, plummeted downwards, grazed the bottom edge of the crossbar, and nestled into the net.

Then he said, "I don't care about the Golden Globe."

Cristiano Ronaldo raised an eyebrow.

"I only care about championships." Lin Fan bent down and placed another ball. "League title, Champions League title, Copa del Rey title. These are what the team owns. The Ballon d'Or is personal. Individual honors—are secondary."

Cristiano Ronaldo stared at him for a few seconds, then turned to Zidane and said something everyone could hear: "This kid figured things out at nineteen. When I was nineteen, I was still comparing hairstyles with people."

Everyone laughed. Zidane stood at the edge of the crowd, arms crossed, and said nothing.

But as the Frenchman looked at Lin Fan's back in the sunlight, a silhouette he knew all too well was reflected in his pupils.

That complete focus at the moment of touching the ball, that almost obsessive self-discipline, that unconditional desire for the championship—he had seen it in another person. That person had stood in front of the mirror in the locker room for thirty years.

On social media, the war has reached a fever pitch.

Cristiano Ronaldo's fans launched the first attack under the Ballon d'Or hashtag on Twitter.

They listed Ronaldo's stats for this season: 14 goals and 4 assists in 12 games, Real Madrid's nine-game winning streak in the league to top the table, and two wins in the Champions League group stage.

An account named "CR7 Forever" posted a long tweet that received over 100,000 likes:

"What are the criteria for the Ballon d'Or? Is it statistics? Titles? Or decisive moments? Cristiano's form this season is one of the best of his career. He's been involved in a goal every 72 minutes in the league. He's the absolute leader in the dressing room for Real Madrid. If Real Madrid wins the treble this year, the Ballon d'Or can only belong to him."

Messi's fans immediately retaliated. They posted Messi's stats of 12 goals and 5 assists in 10 games for Barcelona, ​​as well as his hat-trick in El Clásico – despite Barcelona's loss, Messi's individual performance was impeccable.

An account named "Messi Magic" wrote:

"If you take Messi's three goals at Camp Nou and look at them individually—the first being a curling shot into the top corner from the edge of the box, the second a close-range finish, and the third a powerful shot from outside the box into the top corner—each one is a work of art. The fact that he could still deliver such a performance for a Barcelona team that was struggling proves in itself that he is the best player in the world. The Ballon d'Or isn't a team award; it's an individual award. In terms of individual ability, Messi is still number one."

Then, a third force emerged.

Lin Fan's supporters—most of whom are Chinese fans, but also a large number of neutral fans and Real Madrid fans—launched a fierce attack using data.

A football analyst with three million followers posted a tweet that was retweeted over half a million times:

Let's analyze the three Ballon d'Or nominees rationally. Cristiano Ronaldo has the strongest statistics, but some of his goals benefit from Real Madrid's system, supported by top players like Modric, Kroos, and Benzema. Messi's technique remains impeccable, but Barcelona's form this season is worrying, having already lost a crucial league match. Lin Fan – 10 goals and 13 assists, averaging 2.5 goal involvements per game, his two goals and two assists in his El Clásico debut directly changed the game's outcome.

But the most astonishing thing isn't the statistics. It's the efficiency. Cristiano Ronaldo needs 84 minutes to score a goal, and Messi needs 78 minutes. But Lin Fan only needs 67 minutes to score a goal. His assist efficiency is even more impressive; Lin Fan provides an assist every 38 minutes, a figure that ranks first in all of Europe's top five leagues.

And don't forget, this is his second season in Europe. A nineteen-year-old player putting up Ballon d'Or level statistics in his rookie season—if that's not 'historic,' then I don't know what is."

Barcelona fans, not to be outdone, launched a fierce counterattack in the comments section: "The Ballon d'Or isn't just about stats! It's about impact on the game! Messi's impact on the game can't be reflected in statistics!"

Real Madrid fans immediately retorted: "What about last night's game? Lin Fan came back from behind four times to equalize, and then provided the winning assist—can you demonstrate that kind of impact on the game with statistics?"

Neutral fans have also joined the fray: "To be honest, the Ballon d'Or used to be a two-horse race between Messi and Ronaldo, but this year a spoiler has finally emerged. Regardless of who wins in the end, at least this year's voting will be very interesting."

Someone also unearthed an old video—from January 2012, when Lin Fan was still in the youth training camp, a reporter asked him about his thoughts on the Ballon d'Or. In the video, Lin Fan said, "The Ballon d'Or? Right now, I just want to finish tomorrow's training session."

The video quickly rose to third place on the global trending topics list that afternoon. One commenter wrote: "A person who said 'I just want to finish tomorrow's training session' at sixteen years old is now standing at the center of the Golden Globe Awards discussion ten months later. This isn't genius; this is extreme self-discipline."

On Baidu Tieba in China, a discussion forum called "Lin Fan Bar" saw two million new posts flood in within three hours after the competition ended.

The forum administrator had to temporarily hire twenty administrators to delete posts containing insults and profanities.

One of the most popular posts was titled: "Rational discussion: If we were to vote now, who should win the Golden Globe?"

The post had tens of thousands of replies. Supporters of Lin Fan, Messi, and Ronaldo argued from all sides, citing various sources and discussing everything from data and honors to technical skills and influence, from team achievements to individual masterpieces.

Someone posted a comparison of the three players' shot conversion rates this season—Ronaldo is the highest, Messi is second, and Lin Fan is third. However, someone else posted their key pass statistics—Lin Fan 31, Messi 28, and Ronaldo 19.

In the end, the most upvoted comment read: "Actually, there's no need to argue anymore. The Ballon d'Or will ultimately depend on the performance in the second half of the season. If Real Madrid can win the treble, if Lin Fan can maintain this form, and if he can have a decisive performance in the Champions League final—then the Ballon d'Or will be a foregone conclusion. All the current debates are just warm-up. The real show is yet to come."

Meanwhile, authoritative media outlets also joined the fray.

The French newspaper *L'Équipe*, the organizer of the Ballon d'Or, published a lengthy analysis after the match titled "The Ballon d'Or: The End of the Two-Man Show?" The article stated:

"Since 2008, the Ballon d'Or competition has been a private duel between Cristiano Ronaldo and Leo Messi. The two players have alternated in dominating the honor for eight years, which is an incredible record in itself. But after the night of October 15, 2016 at Camp Nou, an undeniable question emerged – is this pattern being broken by a nineteen-year-old Chinese boy?"

We don't need to repeat Lin Fan's data. His technical characteristics have been analyzed countless times. What we want to discuss is another question: Are the Ballon d'Or voters ready to cast their votes for a Chinese player?

Historically, there has been a certain implicit bias in the Ballon d'Or voting—not racial bias, but a kind of inertia based on football tradition.

Voters tend to look for heroes in traditional football powerhouses.

Players from Brazil, Argentina, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, and Portugal have swept all the Ballon d'Or awards in the past.

A Chinese player? Never made it into the top three, not even into the top thirty.

But Lin Fan's appearance is forcing voters to break this habitual way of thinking.

Because his performance could no longer be ignored.

If he maintains this form for the next half of the season, and if he can lead Real Madrid further in the Champions League, then voters will face an unprecedented dilemma—either vote for Lin Fan, or admit that their vote was not based on his performance on the field.

Henry Winteau, chief football correspondent for The Times of London, wrote a more radical commentary:

"I used to think that all the prejudices in the football world had been broken. Black players could become the best in the world, Asian players could establish themselves in top European leagues, and players of different sexual orientations could openly express their identities without worrying about discrimination. But Lin Fan's emergence made me realize that there is still one prejudice that has never been truly broken—that is the prejudice against Chinese players."

This prejudice is deeply ingrained. It is based on a simple but flawed premise: China lacks a football culture, therefore it is incapable of producing world-class players. This premise has been repeated so many times that it has become 'common sense'.

Lin Fan shattered this "common sense" with a single match. He didn't rely on luck, the system, or the coach's favoritism. He relied on two goals and two assists, on the same pitch where Messi completed his hat-trick at Camp Nou, to show the world that Chinese players can not only play football, but also dominate the game.

Golden Globe voters, are you ready?

In the evening, Real Madrid president Florentino Pérez was attending a sponsor event in the ballroom of a five-star hotel in downtown Madrid. After the event, he was surrounded by a group of reporters.

Everyone knows Florentino's style—he never praises a player individually in public, because it's bad for the balance in the locker room.

But this time, the old man, who has been immersed in football politics for twenty years, broke with convention in a rare move.

"Lin Fan's performance last night was one of the greatest individual performances I've seen since I became Real Madrid president." Florentino spoke slowly, each word carefully chosen. "I say 'one of' because I need to show respect to Di Stéfano, Puskás, Zidane, and Ronaldo. But if we're only talking about his debut season—no, just his first El Clásico—then I can say with certainty that in Real Madrid's 114-year history, no player has ever done what Lin Fan did last night."

The reporters frantically took notes on every single word.

A reporter pressed further: "Mr. Chairman, do you think Lin Fan should have won the Golden Globe Award?"

Florentino smiled. It was his signature, calculating smile—neither denying nor affirming, but every curve of his lips conveyed a message.

"The voting power for the Golden Globes is in the hands of journalists," he said. "I'm just a builder."

That evening, sports media around the world interpreted this answer as "Florentino hinting at his support for Lin Fan's Ballon d'Or nomination."

Every word spoken by the Real Madrid president is carefully crafted; his choice to express his stance in such an indirect way speaks volumes.

Late that night, in Barcelona.

Messi sat in his living room, watching the post-match analysis of El Clásico on the television screen.

The image freezes on Lin Fan's second free kick—the perfect arc that went around the wall, grazed the bottom edge of the crossbar, and nestled into the net.

He was alone in the living room. His wife and children were already asleep.

Messi pressed the pause button on the remote control. The image froze at the moment Lin Fan touched the ball. He stared at the position, angle, and point of contact of that right foot for a long time.

Then he picked up his phone and sent a message to Iniesta.

Did you see the slow-motion replay of that free kick?

Iniesta's reply came quickly: "I saw it."

"His point of contact with the ball is further out than mine. When the ball flies up, the inward spin is stronger, and the drop is more sudden. I haven't seen anyone else in Europe who can do this technique."

Iniesta was silent for a few seconds, then replied with a single sentence.

"Leo, he's only nineteen."

Messi put his phone on the coffee table, leaned back on the sofa, and looked at the light reflected on the ceiling.

After a long time, he muttered something to himself. His voice was very soft, only he could hear it.

"I know."

Meanwhile, Cristiano Ronaldo was watching match footage at his home in Madrid.

But his focus wasn't on the free kick—it was on Lin Fan's cross to Carvajal in stoppage time.

He watched it six times. Each time, he focused on the moment Lin Fan looked up and observed the penalty area—that fleeting glance, lasting only a fraction of a second. In that crowd, in that penalty area where even breathing was difficult, how did he spot Carvajal making his run from the far end?

Cristiano Ronaldo's girlfriend peeked out from the bedroom, still sleepy, and said, "Aren't you going to sleep yet? You have training tomorrow."

Cristiano Ronaldo didn't answer. He stared at Lin Fan on the screen and suddenly smiled.

Then he turned off the TV and walked towards the bedroom. As he walked down the hallway, he stood in front of the mirror on the wall for a few seconds.

The image of myself in the mirror—29 years old, two Golden Globe Awards, countless records.

But tonight, he saw something long-lost in a nineteen-year-old Chinese boy.

He had experienced that before, at Old Trafford at Manchester United, and at the Bernabéu when he first wore a Real Madrid jersey.

That kind of thing is called unstoppable.

He nodded to his reflection in the mirror, as if confirming something. Then he turned off the light and went into the bedroom.