Midsummer.
In China's capital, a massive steel structure looked like a giant gray bird incubating an egg.
The Bird's Nest.
The National Stadium, the main venue for the Olympic Games.
Before 2017, it had already hosted quite a few international football matches.
In 2011, the Italian Super Cup between AC Milan and Inter Milan gave countless Chinese fans their first chance to witness the Milan derby of the Apennines on home soil.
In 2012, Juventus faced Napoli, and the Zebra Army lifted the trophy.
In 2015, Real Madrid's stars ran a lap around the Bird's Nest-just one lap-collected a hefty appearance fee, then slunk away like dogs with their tails between their legs.
Teams came and went.
There was plenty of excitement.
But.
In the hearts of Chinese fans, however spectacular those matches were, what did they have to do with Chinese football?
Before Li Luo burst onto the scene, Chinese fans went on "pilgrimages" to watch other people's stars, applaud them, and buy their shirts. Afterward, they would sigh: When would one of our own players get to stand on this stage?
Around the Bird's Nest.
From three in the afternoon, the crowds flowed toward the stadium like a river released through floodgates.
Red shirts made up the vast majority.
There were black-and-white striped shirts too: Juventus had a sizable fan base in China.
At this time, most... most normal Chinese fans were quite straightforward. When it came to club matches, supporting one side did not mean insulting the other.
At the media entrance on the west side of the Bird's Nest.
Reporters from around the world stood in a long queue for security checks.
The BBC, Sky Sports, CCTV Sports Channel, Football News...
Li Luo's matches never lacked attention.
It was not just Chinese fans who