“Chinese youngster Qin Ming joins Wolfsburg!
A product of Bayern’s youth academy, he helped Bayern II win the regional league title last season.
He is set to become the fourth Chinese player to play in the Bundesliga after Yang Chen, Shao Jiayi, and Hao Junmin!”
“Wolfsburg releases trial video—delicate dribbling and two consecutive rainbow flicks!”
“Rumor: Guardiola once pulled Qin Ming aside late at night to explain the core of the possession system!”
“News of Qin Ming joining Wolfsburg drives Chinese fans wild—approximately 44 million viewers tuned in via CCTV to watch the report on his signing!”
“Breaking!
Volkswagen Passat now offers a ¥30,000 discount—lower prices, upgraded features, and better value across the board!
Plus, interest rates are down!”
Volkswagen Group had bought a ton of media traffic, but Chinese fans, after reading all those headlines, saw only one thing between the lines: selling cars.
So they weren’t impressed.
Instead, they went on a rant.
[Selling cars with a player?]
[Come on.
Wouldn’t it have been better to stay in Bayern II and train for two more years?]
[Young players nowadays are just too impatient and fame-hungry.]
[Exactly.
Competing in midfield with Perišić, De Bruyne, and Caligiuri at Wolfsburg?
I can already see how badly this will end for Qin Ming.]
[And don’t even get me started on all the PR articles.
“Guardiola personally coached him in secret,” “He has the makings of a Ballon d’Or winner”… really?]
[That trial video is clearly staged.
You can tell the defenders just stood there.
Terrible acting.]
[Could this be an attempt to resell him to the CSL at a big profit?]
[Even a dog wouldn’t buy a Passat.
Anyone who does will regret it.
They still haven’t fixed the gearbox issues.]
[Dude, I drive a Passat and it’s fine.
You think you can compare it to BMW, Benz, and Audi?
Must’ve won the lottery with that attitude.]
[…]
Reading all the harsh criticism online, Qin Ming looked at himself in the mirror wearing Wolfsburg’s green-and-white #13 jersey.
“Not bad.
Looks pretty good.”
He wasn’t bothered—he understood the perspective of Chinese fans.
Still, he figured the #13 jersey probably wouldn’t sell well.
Everyone preferred #7 or #10.
Since his registration hadn’t been updated yet, Qin Ming wasn’t allowed to join Wolfsburg for their friendly matches in England and had to stay at the training base.
But thanks to that, he met a training partner: Nicklas Bendtner.
This guy was a legend… in his own way.
At 16, he clashed with Thierry Henry.
At 21, he claimed he was on Ibrahimović’s level.
At 24, he demanded the #10 shirt at Juventus.
No matter where you told his story, it was always a wild ride.
But pride is what ruins many talents.
After joining Arsenal, he had to compete with Henry, Bergkamp, and others.
The result?
No contest—he never came close.
When Henry finally left, Bendtner tried to clap back at Ibra’s comment that “Arsenal doesn’t sign top-tier players,” claiming he’d surpass him in three years.
At that time, Ibra was Inter Milan’s ace—arguably the biggest star in Serie A.
The outcome?
Bendtner was thoroughly humiliated.
He couldn’t even secure a starting spot at Arsenal, let alone surpass Ibra.
Later, Arsenal loaned him to Juventus, where he shamelessly demanded the #10 jersey.
That number had been worn by Del Piero.
Even Juventus hadn’t given it to Giovinco, a homegrown talent.
“You know, when I was your age, I hated school the most,” Bendtner said proudly.
“So I hid in the girls’ bathroom to skip class.
I remember—there were people inside.”
Qin Ming: “…”
He was speechless.
How could Bendtner recount such an embarrassing memory with such pride?
All he could do was smile awkwardly and continue training.
“Listen, genius players like me don’t do basic drills too often.
It kills the magic,” Bendtner kept rambling.
Qin Ming ignored him.
In his mind rang commentator Jun’s words: “CTMD Benteke.”
Now he wanted to swap “ke” for “ner.”
“Hey, don’t doubt it.
No matter how hard you work, you’ll never reach my level.”
Frustrated by Qin Ming’s indifference, Bendtner threw up his hands and walked off.
Thing is, he might not have been entirely wrong.
His accolades weren’t trivial: 2009 Danish Footballer of the Year, 2013–14 Serie A champion, 2014 FA Cup winner—plenty of titles, and not low-quality ones either.
Still, Qin Ming knew how many of those came from riding the bench.
He just didn’t want to get involved with a guy that full of himself.
Otherwise, his own IQ might drop.
He still had dreams to chase—childhood dreams of playing real football.
After all, he’d traveled through time and gotten a system.
If he didn’t achieve something meaningful, wouldn’t that be a waste?
Once Bendtner left, Qin Ming followed his training plan and started his routine.
But on top of the fundamentals, he added some flair: Around the World, crossover tricks, etc.
He also included juggling with his chest, shoulders, forehead—multi-body part control drills.
He believed the fastest way to adapt to the Ronaldinho template was to align his technique with Ronaldinho’s style.
That said, some people argued that if Ronaldinho had trained seriously, he wouldn’t have played the way he did—so instinctive, so free.
Whether that idea was right, no one could say.
Qin Ming had even thought about copying Ronaldinho’s wild lifestyle—clubbing all night, no sleep.
But then it struck him—what really defined Ronaldinho’s style?
Joy.
Ronaldinho treated football as a source of happiness.
Win or lose, success or failure—he simply enjoyed every moment on the pitch.
So Qin Ming gave up on the idea of imitation.
Besides, he didn’t want to live as someone else.
It might sound a little pretentious, but he believed firmly that he was himself—the Qin Ming who had crossed time.
From August 2 to August 11, Wolfsburg played two friendlies: one against Cardiff City from the Premier League, the other against Atlético Madrid from La Liga.
They drew 3–3 with Cardiff but were utterly destroyed by Atlético, losing 1–5.
Atlético’s García scored twice, while Mandžukić, Koke, and Fernández each added one.
Wolfsburg’s only goal came from an own goal by Griezmann.
Back at the training base, Dieter Hecking watched the match replays over and over, smoking countless cigarettes.
Wolfsburg’s greatest strength used to be the high-impact left flank pairing of Rodríguez and Perišić.
Since De Bruyne joined last season, their midfield had also become more organized.
But with Perišić suffering a ligament tear in his left knee and expected to return only by late September, Wolfsburg’s attacking power had taken a serious hit.
(END CHAPTER)