. "Can you hold on?" Wan Cheng Ruolan asked.

After the start of the second half, Jorić replaced his highly praised striker Olic, and a midfielder No. 20 from Dynamo Zagreb. Croatia no longer pressed on the attack, but patiently used his delicate footwork to find opportunities for positional battles.

Master Yang spread his hands: "Hang."

The situation on the court began to turn to Croatia. In terms of ball control, if the two teams really showed their true abilities, the Chinese team could only follow the ball and run stupidly.

On the 20th, he took the ball in the midfield and looked up at the situation ahead.

Li Tie came up to press.

No. 20 lightly bypassed Li Tie's steal and passed the ball out. He cooperated with his teammates. No. 20 passed the Chinese team's midfield line with a precise pass.

Mr. Yang's eyes lit up, and he lowered his head and flipped over the player list - No. 20, Luca Modric.

Mr. Yang hurriedly turned on the computer, and more detailed information popped up: he was signed by Dynamo Zagreb at the age of 16. At the age of 18, he was loaned to neighboring Bosnia and Herzegovina. He was selected as the best player in the Bosnia and Herzegovina League in 22 games. Last season, 3 goals were 18 games but 10 assists, helping the team win the runner-up of the Croatian League and Croatian Hope Star of the Year.

It's no wonder that Yoriqi dared to send this 20-year-old young man on the court when he was behind.

Long pass on the side road.

Olic easily removed the ball, and with extraordinary people, he left Sun Xiang of the Chinese team behind.

Crossing.

A Croatian player came out and headed the ball in a water-style manner!

The ball has entered!!

Although Balaban was beaten by Vermalen in Belgium, he had great experience in dealing with the Chinese central defender. His height of 180 was pushed into the near corner before Li Weifeng blocked him.

Goalkeeper Li Leilei only made a symbolic save, and he didn't even touch the ball.

"Two small forwards, increase the width of the court and step forward in the midfield. If I were Zhu Guanghu, I would either not force it so tightly or just stop it thoroughly. After looking at the Chinese team's defense, Newcastle's defense was as dazzling as the stars in the sky." Mr. Yang teased Lao Zhu, who had changed his color below the court. However, he did not expect that the gesture he gestured in the box had been captured by the camera with ulterior motives.

After communicating with his Chinese counterparts, the live director of Croatia specially gave Mr. Yang more shots to Mr. Yang's box. Anyway, as long as it is a dead ball, one or two shots of Mr. Yang can appear in the picture.

Ten minutes later, Modric's straight pass penetrated the back defense again, and Olic, who successfully counterattacked, drifted past the goalkeeper and scored a goal.

Croatia reversed without any surprise.

"Old Zhu's tactical response was half a beat slower. After shrinking the formation, the striker no longer went to the wing. Instead, he stared at your defender and was ready to counter offside at any time. It seemed that he had to concede the ball."

Five minutes later, Croatia substitution and the Chinese team substitution. Zhu Guanghu replaced Qubo and attacked the wing. Croatia replaced Vulgrinic.

The result of substitutions is completely different. Vulgrenec's flexible skills are the same as Modric's defenses completely ignoring Li Tie and Zhao Xuri in the midfield. After two consecutive wall-to-wave cooperation, the Chinese team opened the hole in the middle and Modric scored the national team's winning goal.

Most of the fans from Zagreb were cheering loudly. Some of them might also realize that the better Modric performed, the further away they were from them. Because the clubs of the five major leagues were observing their midfield core with a scrutiny.

Mr. Yang picked up the phone: "Jason, do me a favor. I saw two good players in Croatia, one named Modric and the other named Olic. Yes, yes, I will pass on the specific information to you. See if they have agents. I want to check if they can sign them before the World Cup next summer."

Mr. Yang was about to put down the phone, and then he moved his heart and said, "By the way, Jason, I have a friend who is going to set up an agency. Do you want to join her? Of course, I will sign a contract with her. This agency will dabble in the fields of performing arts and sports. I will give you her contact information later."

Wan Cheng Ruolan waited for Mr. Yang to call: "Your team already has Hamsik and Montelivo. Do you still need a midfielder like Modric? It feels very repetitive, is it a bit extravagant for Newcastle?"

This is Wan Cheng Ruolan. If it were Ding Yi and Liu Yunshang, he would probably not be able to ask such a professional question. Mr. Yang clicked on the screen: "Didn't you notice Modric's touch just now? The pass through the defense line is the right foot, and the shooting is the left foot. We lack such a comprehensive player."

"I admit this. He has good ball control skills in a small range, but he is short and the Premier League is so fierce. Can you guarantee he can adapt?"

Mr. Yang scratched his head and said scoundrelly: "So he needs a scout to investigate." Mr. Yang also called Newcastle's scout manager Charlie Woods. In the next six months, Newcastle will have a special scout staring at Modric in Zagreb.

After making the phone call, the game was over. The score of 1-3 also left the Chinese team with a little face. Both sides played good goals in the first half, but the opponents were more efficient.

Master Yang pushed Wan Cheng Ruolan out of the corridor of the box and found a group of excited reporters squatting on the road they must pass. So the security of the court was quite in place, otherwise these reporters would probably lie on the door and eavesdrop.

"Damn it." Master Yang cursed in his heart, but still smiled. He gritted his teeth and said in a voice that only Wan Cheng Ruolan could hear: "Great reporter, what should I do and how to break through?"

Wan Cheng Ruolan also looked helpless. "There is no way."

At this time, I was so desperate that the door of the box at the other end of the corridor opened. Nan Yong and the accompanying Football Association officials also walked out at this time. The flash flashed instantly.

A very surprised expression appeared on Nan Yong's face, then he walked up to shake hands with Master Yang: "Coach Yang, I didn't expect you to be here too."

Mr. Yang: "Chairman Nan, what a coincidence."

"It's not convenient today, so let's get together another day." Nan Yong smiled and patted Master Yang's arm. He said that, and walked towards the reporter blocking the corridor entrance.

"Chairman Nan, why did Coach Yang appear here? Is it a coincidence?"

"It is reported that the Football Association intends to invite Coach Yang to the national team. Do you have any plans for this?"

"Is your purpose of coming here this time to discuss the details with Coach Yang?"

Nan Yong smiled and walked past the road separated by the staff. "These issues will be announced to everyone later. Please rest assured."

When the reporters saw Nan Yong's most severe and were about to turn around and attack Master Yang, they found that the person pushing the wheelchair was gone.

"Where did the person go?" the reporter asked the security staff who had been by his side.

"There is a backup channel over there." The security officer pointed in another direction.

"Yes, I saw them walking over there, too." A reporter echoed.

"What are you waiting for? Chase me quickly!" A group of people chased towards the backup passage, and I believe that Master Yang, who was pushing the wheelchair, couldn't walk much.

There were two people squeezing in the small space of the toilet next to the private room.

"What a plan, big coach."

“Just adapt to the situation.”

"Then you go out and see if they have all been exposed?" As soon as Wan Cheng Ruolan finished speaking, she heard two people cursing in Chinese.

"Damn it, we run faster than rabbits. If we don't wait here, we won't be hiding somewhere."

"Okay, wait for me to smoke a cigarette. This time, Nan Yong didn't stop him, and Master Yang didn't catch him. He would definitely be scolded by the editor when he went back."

"You said you would be a girl. You can still lust some sex."

"It's just a tempting thing, there's no shortage of women around Coach Yang."

"Hey, isn't that female reporter disabled?" The voice gradually faded away.

Master Yang looked back at Wan Cheng Ruolan, his face turned red and his expression was ugly.

"Don't be angry, I'll be more beautiful when you're well raised."

"Master Yang, can you help me?"

"Ah...what" can't be a murder and silence, I'm not familiar with it.

"Can you help me? I want to go to the bathroom." Water was almost dripping from Wan Cheng Ruolan's face.

Going to the toilet? Master Yang's face suddenly turned red and he said tremblingly: "How......... help?"

"Help me stand up first." Wan Cheng Ruolan was still wearing plaster on one foot, and Master Yang helped her stand up from the wheelchair.

With one hand in his arms around Wan Cheng Ruolan's soft waist, Master Yang could almost feel the existence of the ribs that were close to his skin.

"Take me off my pants."

Working with pants? Master Yang lowered his head, and the loose sweatpants he wore during yoga outlined the moving curves of Wancheng Ruolan.

"No, use your hands."

"oh……"

Master Yang raised his head, with the help of Wan Cheng Ruolan, his hand hooked to the edge of Wan Cheng Ruolan's pants, and his fingers were tweaked in to the edge of his underwear.

Silk? Master Yang's hands were a little shaking.

Angel Master Yang cursed: Look at your unpromising appearance.

The demon Master Yang also scolded: Do you dare to look down? You won’t die?

Mr. Yang's fingers continued to go down along the smooth skin.

"alright."

Commander Yang breathed a sigh of relief.

Please help me sit down. Thank God, it's a toilet. Master Yang exhaled again.

"Block your ears."

He blocked his ears, Master Yang faced the bathroom door, remembering what happened when he stole to the women's toilet when he was a child. That place was a dry toilet, but later his father beat him up to pieces.

I don’t know how long it took, but Wan Cheng Ruolan said weakly: “I’m fine”

This is longer than playing penalty kicks in overtime. Mr. Yang thought to himself.

Master Yang helped Wan Cheng Ruolan stand up, and the remaining process Wan Cheng Ruolan can be completed independently.

Pushing Wan Cheng Ruolan out of the stadium, both of them looked a little embarrassed.

At this time, Master Yang's cell phone buzzed a few times.

A text message read: "At noon tomorrow, Sufa Hotel will wash your dust. - Nan Yong."
Chapter completed!