Chapter Forty-Nine: The Competition Begins

The mountain winds swept through the city, heralding a storm about to break. After a series of tumultuous events, the situation in Bianliang suddenly settled into a strange calm.

When Zhao Yu met with his brothers Zhao Huan and Zhao Kai again, they appeared as affectionate as ever, cordial and harmonious, as if nothing had ever transpired between them. The leaders of the Ming Sect, Lü Shinan, and Zhang Shun of the Jiangnan Canal Guild, seemed to have vanished into thin air, never appearing in the capital again. The peculiar stone, after its brief moment of fame, was quickly forgotten. Now, the greatest public interest was undoubtedly in the approaching national football league.

Thanks to Zhao Yu and Li Yan’s deliberate efforts to spread the word, all provinces received the news and sent their teams to participate. Everyone knew the tournament was secretly orchestrated by Prince Yi and the Grand Steward Li, so the teams came not merely for sport, but with political motives in mind. The changed format of the traditional game forced each team, upon arriving in the capital, to immediately begin adaptation training. The city’s inns were packed to capacity, and even the slightly spacious open areas were cordoned off as temporary training grounds.

Zhao Yu understood this was the charm of football, though he lamented that the heroic spirit and fine traditions of their ancestors had been squandered by the unworthy descendants of later generations.

As the match drew near, Lu Junyi chose to stay, having already sensed that Prince Yi’s interest lay with Yan Qing. Thus, when Zhao Yu requested their aid, Lu Junyi straightforwardly entrusted Yan Qing to Zhao Yu. His move was undeniably shrewd; not only did it display his generosity, but for a wealthy family like his, forging ties with a royal prince could only bring countless benefits. Who says heroes have no desire to curry favor with the powerful? Some are simply more obvious about it, while others conceal it better.

Yan Qing was at first unwilling. Lu Junyi was half a master to him; though he had surpassed his teacher, having been sold into Lu’s household as a child, he had long regarded it as his own home. Now, suddenly handed over to a prince, it was hard for him to adjust. Yet everything takes time, and Zhao Yu always treated Yan Qing as a brother, affectionately calling him “Little Yi.” Gradually, the scales in Yan Qing’s heart tipped toward Zhao Yu.

With the match day approaching, Zhao Yu’s gambling halls began accepting wagers. Gambling is human nature, and during this period, Zhao Yu’s men, almost by force, steadily took control of nearly all casinos in Bianliang. Even those protected by powerful patrons were on the brink of collapse.

Now, everyone on the Bianliang streets knew: better to offend the authorities than to cross Brother Yu. Without the protection of the Flying Eagle banner, one could expect nothing.

Time flew swiftly, and in the blink of an eye, it was the fifteenth day of the ninth month.

Early that morning, crowds swarmed outside the stadium. Despite the throng, with Kaifeng’s bailiffs and Zhao Yu’s men maintaining order, the spectators entered in an orderly fashion. The gates and surrounds of the stadium were festooned in red and green for the festivities. Drum bands and firecrackers were ready, awaiting the announcement to begin.

Don’t think watching football is free. Depending on the vantage point, admission ranged from ten coins to a full string. No food was allowed inside, since it was sold within, along with clappers, jerseys, banners—every possible money-making item accounted for by Zhao Yu.

He felt as though racing against time, determined to seize every opportunity for profit.

The first match was crucial, pitting the palace guards against the capital’s garrison troops. Both teams were recognized powerhouses, and they were expected to deliver an auspicious start.

To generate excitement, Zhao Yu and Li Yan invited Emperor Huizong and a host of high officials to attend. As it was a holiday, many officials who hadn’t received formal invitations brought their families to watch.

Emperor Huizong, notorious for neglecting his duties and delighting in spectacle, had never seen such a scene before. Gazing at the masses filling the stands, he grew exhilarated.

He didn’t wear formal attire, but dressed in sumptuous robes, surrounded by nobles like stars orbiting the moon as he entered the stadium.

Such an opportunity could not be missed by Li Yan, Liang Shicheng, and their ilk. They showered Huizong with flattery—praises of a golden age and peace under a sage ruler poured forth, until the emperor was nearly dizzy from all the compliments.

But he hadn’t come for praise. Barely seated, he impatiently summoned Zhao Yu.

“Why haven’t we begun?”

“Your Majesty, only under a wise ruler does an era flourish. On the opening day, it is proper for Your Majesty to personally command the start, thus blessing the tournament with success and prosperity.”

This flattery was subtle yet shameless, putting all the previous ornate compliments from the ministers to shame.

Emperor Huizong, delighted, nodded, “Let it begin!”

“Your son obeys!”

Zhao Yu bowed, then turned and signaled Liu Hei at the sidelines.

Receiving the cue, Liu Hei waved his hand, and instantly the drums thundered, firecrackers exploded, and the cheers of the crowd grew louder and louder.

After the music and firecrackers, with a sharp whistle, the match officially began.

This new competitive format emphasized attack and teamwork; each side fielded twelve players, with no goalkeeper. The goal was a tall board like a basketball backboard, with a round hole slightly larger than the ball—a demanding target that truly tested the players’ skill.

The match lasted one hour, divided into halves, with a break equivalent to the burning of two incense sticks, and the winner decided by net goals.

The palace guards wore pale blue jerseys; the garrison team wore red. The coach for the palace guards was Emperor Huizong’s own football instructor, a master of the sport and personally leading his team. The garrison’s strength was equally formidable, coached by Gao Qiu. Though his official abilities were questionable, his football skills were exceptional. Age and rank kept him off the field, but his personally trained squad was beyond dispute.

The players knew the emperor and Commander Gao were in the reviewing box, and eager to win honor for their leaders, they threw themselves into the game from the start. The red and white jerseys danced across the field, weaving and clashing in a magnificent display.

The applause and cheers from the stands rose in waves. Though the emperor and his ministers had seen football before, none had imagined such joy from the new format. After a moment of astonishment, they began cheering for their favorite teams.

Among all present, only Zhao Yu remained clear-headed. He knew that, with Gao Qiu’s cunning, this would never be a fair match—but what did it matter to him, so long as there was money to be made?

Besides, Zhao Yu knew the true drama of today was yet to unfold...