Football: Start with the Kaka template, dominate the football field!

As Dortmund's chartered plane landed smoothly at Madrid-Barajas Airport, the moment the cabin door opened, a familiar, dry, and warm breeze rushed into Qin Feng's nostrils.

He stood on the gangway, looking down at the city where he had lived for many years, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

He is back.

But this time, he is no longer that young trainee whose future is uncertain and who depends on others.

Instead, they returned as conquerors to challenge the king here.

The VIP lane at the airport was already completely blocked.

Hundreds of reporters and cameramen formed an impenetrable wall of people, their flashes going off wildly, creating a cacophony of noise that was incredibly irritating.

As the players, dressed in official Dortmund suits, walked out of the tunnel, all the cameras immediately focused on the Asian face walking in the middle of the group.

"Qin! Qin Feng! Look here!"

"What are your thoughts on returning to familiar territory? Do you think Real Madrid made a mistake in letting you go?"

"Do you want to prove something to Zidane on this field?"

A reporter from Marca practically shoved the microphone at Qin Feng's mouth, asking sharp and provocative questions.

Qin Feng stopped in his tracks. He didn't look at the reporter, but calmly swept his gaze across the forest of cameras and microphones in front of him.

The entire passage fell silent the moment he stopped.

He picked up the microphone, his voice not loud, but clearly reaching everyone's ears.

"I'm here to win."

After saying that, he ignored all questions and walked straight to the team bus surrounded by his teammates.

This answer was neither humble nor arrogant, but full of powerful confidence!

Klopp, walking beside him, smiled approvingly. Grosskreutz, the "Grand Cross," even gave Qin Feng a thumbs-up.

……

The following afternoon, we had a pre-match training session to familiarize ourselves with the venue.

As the Dortmund team bus slowly drove into the familiar Valdebebas training ground, Qin Feng's gaze became somewhat complicated.

He stepped onto that green, velvety grass again, even passing by his old locker room in Castile, now marked by a stranger, a Spanish boy.

Things are wrong.

"Hey, Qin!" a voice called from not far away. It was Jesé Rodriguez, his former teammate at Castilla, now the "new Raúl" of Real Madrid's first team.

Jesé's eyes were complex, filled with curiosity, jealousy, and a hint of admiration. "Welcome back," he finally said, extending his hand. "Life in the first team isn't easy. The pressure is a hundred times greater than here."

"I know." Qin Feng shook hands with him without saying anything more.

His gaze passed over Hessé and landed not far away.

There, the Real Madrid first-team coaching staff stood together. Ancelotti, Ronaldo, Bale… and that Frenchman, still standing tall and straight, wearing an assistant coach's training uniform.

Zidane.

As if sensing something, Zidane slowly turned his head.

Their eyes met in mid-air.

Separated by a distance of several dozen meters, by a noisy training ground, and by half a year.

No words, no expression.

But the air was thick with a complex and indescribable meaning. It was a reunion of former judges and exiles, a silent confrontation between legend and rising star.

After a long while, Zidane nodded almost imperceptibly as a greeting, and then turned away.

Qin Feng also withdrew his gaze and began warming up.

He knew that all his words would be spoken on the field tomorrow night, through his own feet.

……

That evening, the pre-match press conference.

The press conference venue was packed, and the flashes from the cameras were so bright that it was almost impossible to open one's eyes.

Klopp attended the event with captain Kyle and Qin Feng.

"Mr. Klopp, do you think Dortmund's defense can withstand the pressure against the BBC trio?"

"Qin, six months ago you were labeled 'glass man' here and left in disgrace. Now you're back, do you want to prove to Real Madrid that their decision back then was a huge mistake?"

The questions from the Spanish media were full of traps and difficult questions.

Klopp once again played the role of the "madman," drawing all the fire to himself with his signature infectious laughter.

"BBC? All I know is Dortmund's heavy metal! Tomorrow night, the entire Bernabéu will hear our voices!"

"As for proof? Qin doesn't need to prove anything to anyone! He just needs to step onto the field and then destroy your defenses!"

Klopp's outrageous remarks caused an uproar in the room.

But when the microphone was handed to Qin Feng, he appeared unusually calm.

"I respect Real Madrid; they have many great players and coaches. But tomorrow night, we are opponents. My only goal is to help my team take victory from here."

His maturity and composure beyond his years greatly disappointed all the Spanish journalists who wanted to see him lose his composure.

……

The next day was the match day.

As the Dortmund team bus slowly drove into the players' tunnel, they were greeted by a deafening chorus of boos.

The players entered the locker room, and the enormous noise, even through the thick walls, could still be clearly heard, like a giant beast being imprisoned and roaring wildly.

"Did you hear that?" Klopp stood in the center of the locker room, his voice drowning out all the noise. "This is their fear!"

"They're afraid! Afraid of us, this working-class team from the Ruhr region! Afraid of us, the underdog challengers!"

"Now, go out and turn their fears into reality!"

Inside the players' tunnel.

When the announcer read out the names of the Real Madrid players in a passionate voice, the entire stadium erupted in thunderous cheers!

"...Number seven! Cristiano Ronaldo!!!"

When he read out the names of the Dortmund players, he was met with a chorus of malicious boos.

When the last name was called, the boos reached their peak!

"...From Dortmund, number thirty-seven...Qin—Feng—!!!"

A massive wave of sound, like a tsunami, created by 80,000 people, crashed down on the young figure in the players' tunnel from all directions!

They regarded him as a "traitor" and a "discarded general".

Qin Feng stood in the queue and closed his eyes.

He could feel the enormous, hostile roar engulfing him like a tidal wave.

But amidst the deafening boos, he also heard a faint, yet heart-wrenching scream. It came from a small corner on the very top floor of the stadium.

Those were the yellow and black expeditionary forces belonging to Dortmund.

Qin Feng slowly opened his eyes, his gaze showing no fear whatsoever.

Instead, a cold smile curved his lips.

he knows.

From this moment on, he will be an enemy of the entire Bernabéu.

And he did it willingly.