After Paris Saint-Germain was removed from the list, I led England to victory!

The training days passed quickly, and on Saturday night, at Hoffenheim's home stadium, the Rhein-Neckar Arena...

At 6 p.m., an hour and a half before the match was scheduled to start, the Hoffenheim locker room was already starting to get lively.

Yan Yuan sat in his seat, head down, tying his shoelaces, his fingers slightly clenched. This was his first appearance for the first team. Although it was just a friendly match, the noise of fans entering the stadium could already be heard outside the stadium.

Gnabry walked over, plopped down in the chair next to him, and grinned: "Hey, Yan, don't be so serious, relax."

He reached out and patted Yan Yuan on the shoulder. "Weren't you pretty good in training? What's wrong, scared by our fans?"

Yan Yuan looked up and forced a smile: "It's alright, it's just a bit... new."

"Fresh?" Gnabry laughed. "When you hear the fans chanting your name, that'll be fresh."

He leaned closer and lowered his voice, "Let me tell you a secret, when I made my first appearance for Arsenal, I almost collapsed in the players' tunnel."

Yan Yuan raised an eyebrow: "Really?"

"Why would I lie to you?" Gnabry shrugged.

"Later I realized that as long as I focused my attention on the ball, everything else was just noise."

The locker room door was pushed open, and Nagelsmann walked in.

He was dressed in a sharp suit, holding a tactical board in his hand, his gaze sweeping over each player before finally settling on Yan Yuan.

"Yan," he walked over, his tone calm, "come out with me for a moment."

Yan Yuan followed the coach out of the locker room and into the quiet corridor. Nagelsmann leaned against the wall, straightened his jersey, and asked, "Nervous?"

"A little," Yan Yuan answered honestly, "but mostly I'm excited."

Nagelsmann nodded: "Very good, excitement is better than numbness."

Listen, although I have high expectations for you, I don't need you to become a hero today, nor do I need you to prove anything anytime soon.

Don't put too much pressure on yourself in this match. Just perform as you normally do in training, and that will be enough.

Yan Yuan took a deep breath: "I will, Coach."

"Remember our tactics," Nagelsmann continued. "You need to cut inside on the right wing to create space for Kaderabek to make forward runs. Genoa's left-back isn't very fast, so you can take advantage of that."

"clear."

Nagelsmann patted him on the shoulder: "Alright, go back and enjoy the game."

Back in the locker room, the teammates had already changed into their jerseys and were making their final preparations.

Yan Yuan put on his number 17 jersey. This number wasn't particularly important in Hoffenheim, nor did it have any special meaning or history, but Yan Yuan still liked it because he was 17 years old.

Captain Vogt walked over, patted the cabinet, and said, "Everything ready, ladies? We're about to receive guests!"

"Don't worry, Captain, I'll make the Italians tremble with pleasure," Schultz replied with a lewd remark.

Vogt's words immediately livened up the atmosphere, and everyone started chatting and laughing.

The stadium announcements began broadcasting the entry instructions, and the atmosphere in the locker room instantly became serious.

Nagelsmann stood in the center of the locker room, his voice calm and steady, giving his final instructions: "Remember our tactics, control the tempo, patiently look for opportunities. Genoa likes to press high, but their defense is slow to turn, which is our weakness."

The players formed a circle, and Vogt held out his hand: "Hoffenheim!"

"Go for it!" everyone shouted in unison.

As Yan Yuan walked out of the players' tunnel, he was instantly overwhelmed by a cacophony of noise.

The lights at the Rhein-Neckar Arena were blindingly bright, and the stands were already mostly full.

Although it was just a friendly match, Hoffenheim fans were still very enthusiastic.

"Who is number 17?" a fan asked, pointing at Yan Yuan.

"A newbie, I've never seen him before."

"Asian face? Japanese or Korean?"

"No, I just checked. It seems to be of Chinese descent, of English nationality, transferred from Paris Saint-Germain's youth academy."

Yan Yuan pretended not to hear the discussions and followed his teammates to the bench. As is customary, the starting players had to line up on the sidelines and wait for the referee's signal.

The Genoa players were already standing on the opposite side. Yan Yuan glanced at them and recognized several familiar faces from Serie A: Perin, Rossi, Lazovic... Their expressions were relaxed, clearly not taking this friendly match too seriously.

The referee blew his whistle, signaling the players to enter the field. Yan Yuan took a deep breath and stepped onto the grass.

The match is about to begin.

The referee's whistle shattered the clamor of the Rhein-Neckar Arena, the ball was gently tapped, and the match officially began.

Yan Yuan stood on the right wing, his hands on his knees, his back slightly hunched, his eyes fixed on the midfield battle.

In the first 25 minutes, Nagelsmann's tactical setup was very clear: probing pressure, looking for gaps in the flanks of Genoa's three-center-back system.

Grillitsch plays as a defensive midfielder to distribute possession, while Amiri frequently pushes forward to find passing options between the opponent's midfield and defense.

Genoa's defensive formation was very compact, but Yan Yuan quickly discovered the problem: their left wing-back Lazovic liked to push forward, while their left center-back Rossettini was slow to turn.

Whenever Gnabry cuts inside from the left, Genoa's defensive focus unconsciously shifts to that side, creating an opening on the right.

In the 12th minute, Yan Yuan made his first real touch with the ball. Grillitsch sent a long diagonal pass to the right wing, Yan Yuan chested the ball down, and then deftly dribbled past the onrushing Lazovic.

A gasp rang out from the stands, but Yan Yuan did not choose to act rashly. Instead, he calmly passed the ball back to Kaderzabek, who had made a run into the box, and his cross was cleared.

"Beautiful!" Nagelsmann applauded from the sidelines, then made a gesture, cutting across with his right hand and pushing forward with his left.

Yan Yuan immediately understood: the coach wanted him to continue attacking the ribs.

In the 23rd minute, a goal was scored.

Amiri received the ball in midfield and looked up to observe.

Yan Yuan suddenly started moving, cutting diagonally through the gap between Genoa's left center-back Rossi and wing-back Lazovic.

Amiri's pass was surgically precise, the ball passing through two defenders and rolling in front of Yan Yuan.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Yan Yuan gently guided the ball with the outside of his right foot, smoothly wading into the penalty area.

Goalkeeper Perrin has already rushed out and covered the near post.

Yan Yuan didn't hesitate. He pushed out a low ball with the instep of his left foot. The ball went under Perrin's arm and rolled into the net, grazing the far post!

1-0!

The stadium erupted in cheers.

Yan Yuan was stunned for a second, seemingly not yet realizing that he had actually scored a goal.

He subconsciously took two steps, swung his fist, and even looked a little bewildered. This overly simple celebration amused his teammates.

"Hey! Yan, is that all the creativity you have?" Gnabry laughed and rushed over, grabbing his neck.

"I... haven't thought of a celebration move yet." Yan Yuan smiled awkwardly.

"Next time, remember to at least slide on your knees!" Amiri ruffled his hair.

Nagelsmann, standing on the sidelines, unusually jumped up and pumped his fist in celebration. He turned to his assistant coach and said something, and the two exchanged a smile.

In the stands, a few fans started chanting "Yan! Yan!" Although their pronunciation was awkward, it was enough to warm Yan Yuan's heart.

After taking the lead, Hoffenheim played with more composure.

Starting in the 26th minute, Nagelsmann adjusted his tactics.

The back four implemented a "false high press" defense, with Hübner responsible for pressing and intercepting, and Vogt dropping back to cover.

Genoa's attacks were repeatedly thwarted in their infancy.

Meanwhile, Yan Yuan's performance became increasingly active.

In the 31st minute, he made several changes of direction on the right wing, using a Cruyff turn to get past Lazovic, and then delivered a cutback cross, but unfortunately, Hoffenheim's midfielder Rupp's shot went slightly wide.

"Good shot! Keep going!" Nagelsmann shouted from the sidelines, gesturing with his hands to press forward.

Genoa's players began to get impatient.

Their midfield maestro Veloso frequently dropped back to receive the ball, but every time he got the ball, he was closely marked by Amiri.

In the 38th minute, Veloso had no choice but to make a long pass, which was headed back to midfield by Hübner.

After receiving the ball, Grillitsch quickly passed it to the wing, and Yan Yuan made another sprint, but unfortunately, his final cross was blocked out of bounds.

In the 41th minute, the second goal came.

Gnabry stood in the left corner area, took a run-up, and kicked the ball. The ball drew a strange arc and spun directly towards the near post!

Genoa goalkeeper Perin misjudged the situation and made a wrong hand position during the save, allowing the ball to slip past his fingertips and into the net!

2-0!

"ooooooh!!!!!!!" Gnabry spread his arms and sprinted toward the corner flag, mimicking the gliding motion of an airplane. His teammates rushed forward, and Yan Yuan joined in the celebration with a smile.

This time he finally learned his lesson and jumped up to bump chests with Gnabry in celebration, although his movements were still a bit clumsy.

Nagelsmann, standing on the sidelines, smiled so broadly his eyes narrowed into slits as he turned and high-fived the players on the bench.

He glanced at the timer; there were still 4 minutes left in the first half, and the score perfectly matched his tactical expectations.

In the final minutes, Genoa attempted a counterattack, but Hoffenheim's defense remained impenetrable.

Yan Yuan even dropped back to his own half to participate in the defense, and made a clean and neat sliding tackle to steal the ball from Pandev's feet, which drew applause from the stands.

When the whistle blew to end the first half, Yan Yuan wiped the sweat from his forehead and walked toward the players' tunnel.

As he passed the sidelines, Nagelsmann reached out and patted him on the back: "Well played, kid. I have a feeling your debut can be even better."

Yan Yuan nodded, when suddenly he heard a child in the stands shout, "Number 17! You're awesome!"

He looked up and saw a little boy with an Asian face, waving a Hoffenheim scarf excitedly.

Yan Yuanchong smiled and waved.

At that moment, he suddenly felt that he might actually be able to gain a foothold here.