Chapter 891: 890 Hang Ti
Shaking, trembling—
The football was like this, and so was Li Wei.
The white light and the maroon light moved at completely different frequencies.
The entire world fell silent, watching as the football was about to fly out of bounds.
Johnson was soaring through the air, Littleton lunging with all his might, Peters tangling with Kelsey but unable to tear his eyes away from Li Wei, and the prone Donald finally traced Mahos’ gaze to locate the football’s trajectory.
In the VIP box, Ariana, and in front of their TVs, Thalia, held their breaths. Outside the rcedes-Benz Do, Felix and everyone else felt their hearts stop beating; even Goodell was no exception.
Ti, in that mont, pressed the pause button. All the roaring and clamor vanished.
Perhaps, there was one exception.
Li Wei.
A full 360-degree spin, followed by another 180-degree twist.
His right leg stood alone as support, tiptoes touching the ground, the top of his foot straightened. His body seed weightless, like a prima ballerina, balancing precariously on his toes to stave off the powerful centrifugal force threatening to hurl him away.
Then.
Another 45-degree pivot to readjust his positioning—
Face to the heavens, back to the ground.
Amidst the mayhem, his left leg lightly skimd the ground, propelling his body forward, his core muscles straining to control his balance while his body and arms stretched to their absolute limits.
His upper body had already crossed out of bounds, suspended in mid-air past the sideline.
Chest. Arms. Hands.
Each extended step by step, barely grasping the football milliseconds before it escaped his fingertips. It was sheer fingertip strength that kept it in control, though there was no ti to stabilize the ball.
His next move: keep rotating.
Forty-five degrees. Ninety degrees.
His feet left the ground, centrifugal force overpowering gravity, and Li Wei flew through the air, left foot first, then right foot. His spiraling body seed certain to lose all control—until he barely tapped the ground one last ti.
A push with both legs.
It wasn’t so much a forceful jump but a subtle tap, a gentle nudge.
His body floated through the air like a cloud, spinning, flying, yet still moving forward.
Soaring skyward!
The wind howled around his ears.
Li Wei, however, maintained 100% focus. Arms and legs completely stretched, he transitioned from a two-handed grip on the football to controlling it with his right hand alone.
Without even taking a breath, gravity once again reasserted itself, pulling his body down at rapid speed. Still, Li Wei didn’t ease up.
Clenching his teeth, his right hand and upper body remained perfectly straight, fully extended, aid like a missile at the orange pylon.
A slap. A collision.
Smack.
The next second, centrifugal force violently hurled Li Wei out, his entire body crashing to the ground.
The spell that froze ti was lifted.
Yet the entirety of the rcedes-Benz Do remained eerily silent, utterly still, every person frozen in place—unable to breathe.
Jim Nantz and Tony Romo were no exceptions.
Until the end zone referee straightened his knees, stood upright, and raised both arms high, pointing toward the sky—
“Touchdown!”
Nantz lost it, almost unable to believe his eyes. His mind went completely blank.
“Touchdown! Touchdown! Touchdown! That was a touchdown—no doubt about it, absolutely spectacular! The most remarkable touchdown of the season!”
“A 24-yard connection from Mahos to Li Wei.”
“One fatal strike! A dagger to the heart!”
“No suspense, no controversy. Once again, Li Wei conquers the rcedes-Benz Do with his impossible brilliance, and the Los Angeles Rams Defense surrenders completely.”
“Surrender!”
“God, oh God!”
“Super Bowl MVP!”
The air bristled with an undercurrent of turbulence, like the deep rumbling of an earthquake rising from the earth’s core, growing louder and stronger as it reverberated through the soul.
A tidal wave of shock, an impact so overwhelming it stirred tempests in its wake—
Mahos and Li Wei, Li Wei and Mahos. One dared to pass, the other dared to catch. One lured the enemy in, the other boldly broke through alone. Together, they risked it all at the edge of life and death to carve open a fleeting opportunity.
When the Los Angeles Rams Defense tried to counterattack, when Donald sought to prove his worth again, when the scales of victory tilted toward the Kansas City Chiefs, they seized the mont.
Creating a breathtaking miracle.
And then, surrender.
In a flash, Felix raised both arms high, his gaze ablaze as he looked around, silently expressing, through his stance, his expression, and his gestures:
Touchdown. That was a touchdown.
Indeed, the Los Angeles Rams had been fighting back all along; indeed, the Rams, teetering at the edge of defeat, refused to give in; indeed, after halfti, the Rams’ resurgence on both offense and defense was undeniable.
But the Kansas City Chiefs withstood the pressure and delivered yet another fatal strike, shattering Donald’s forceful rebuttal.
Strength. Dominance. Authority!
On the screen, just outside the end zone, Li Wei was sent crashing hard into the padded barriers. His entire body groaned in pain, his organs and bones aching unbearably. But Li Wei didn’t have ti to concern himself with all that. He got back on his feet.
Like a blood-drenched war god.
Slowly, firmly, he walked back to the end zone, standing tall, solid as a rock, his gaze and expression saying unmistakably:
Who else? Bring it on!
Li Wei tilted his chin slightly upward, surveying the crowd inch by inch with his eyes. His surging aura of dominance seed almost to burst through the confines of the rcedes-Benz Do.
Felix could no longer contain himself. He was the first to shout out passionately.
At the top of his lungs, “Li Wei!”
Once, then again.
In the blink of an eye, the chant rippled across the stadium like wildfire.
Echoing endlessly.
“Li Wei!”
“Li Wei!”
“Li Wei!”
Ariana, slightly shy, glanced around cautiously. Realizing that no one was immune to the contagious atmosphere, she couldn’t suppress her excitent any longer and softly murmured Li Wei’s na. Like magic, her smile spread wider and brighter, as if a new world had opened up.
anwhile, the scene in a New York bar was entirely different.
Thalia looked around at the boisterous bar, shaking her head with a light chuckle.
“Co on, show so spirit! The kid from New York is about to take down Los Angeles.”
The response was imdiate—grumbles and wisecracks from the football-loving rowdies. Unbothered, Thalia hopped onto the bar counter, waving a red jersey emblazoned with the number 23 high in the air, leading a chorus of shouts.
“Li Wei!”
With fiery passion and unbridled enthusiasm, her heart burst forth like fireworks.
Her energy was contagious, as one patron after another began pounding on tables, finally succumbing to the fevered chant. They joined in, one after another, until the entire bar was united.
A single, unbreakable voice.
And it wasn’t just in New York.
Kansas City. New Orleans. Atlanta. Indianapolis.
No exceptions—whether in bars, cafes, or family restaurants, every corner of every city erupted into flas. The transformation—from indifferent to fully enthralled in the Super Bowl spectacle—ca faster than expected.
The flas of excitent swept across the entire North Arican continent.
During halfti, Maroon-5’s performance had failed to reignite the public’s dwindling passion, leaving fans lukewarm and halfhearted. But now, Li Wei, this year’s historical regular season MVP, had risen to the occasion once again, turning the Super Bowl into his personal stage.
And then, it happened.
“Li Wei!”
Everyone was shouting the sa na, their chants flooding the arena and the airwaves. The entire world bowed before him, offering their reverence.
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