The remarks Grenoble manager Mohamed Bazdarevic had made at the pre-match press conference were like a flame tossed onto a pile of dry kindling.
From France to China, from Japan to South Korea, public opinion across the entire East Asian football community boiled over within just a few hours.
"A Japanese international said the Chinese were their beaten foes?"
"This is football, not a history lesson!"
"Who is Daisuke Matsui? How many goals has he scored in Ligue 1? He dares challenge Zhang Kuang?"
"Hilarious. What right does a Japanese player at a relegation-battling club have to judge Zhang Kuang?"
"Zhang Kuang scored nine in three games. How many has Daisuke Matsui scored this season? Let me check-oh, not a single one."
"He's barely warmed the seat as Asia's number one, and someone already wants to challenge him?"
"It's not a challenge. It's contempt. He said 'beaten foes,' meaning Chinese football has never beaten Japan."
"That's the national team, not individuals. Zhang Kuang alone is worth more than the entire Japan national team put together."
"What good is a high market value? Football is an eleven-man sport."
"Then let Daisuke Matsui carry Grenoble to a win on his own. Can he?"
"Stop arguing. The match hasn't even started. There'll be plenty of time to argue afterward."
-And that was only the warm-up from Chinese netizens.
On the Japanese internet, the picture was entirely different.
On the 2CH Forum, the discussion thread about the match had already been bumped to the very top of the front page, with replies increasing by dozens every minute.
"Well said, Matsui-kun! The China National Team are our beaten foes anyway."
"This Chinese guy called Zhang Kuang has been pretty hot lately. Consecutive hat-tricks? Is Ligue 1 defending really that weak?"
"I watched his goal videos. He really is impressive. But which is better, Ligue 1 or the J.League? Hard to say."
"Matsui-kun has played in Ligue 1 for several years. He's much more experienced than that Chinese guy. I'm backing Matsui-kun in this match."
"That Chinese guy is too arrogant, on the pitch and off it. Taking four women home by himself? Even in Japan, we do that quietly."
"That's the caliber of the Chinese for you."
"Don't make it about countries. Football is football. Zhang Kuang really does have good skills. We have to admit that."
"Admit what? He hasn't faced a Japanese player yet. Let's talk after this match."
"Exactly. Let Matsui-kun teach him how to behave."
"Don't forget, Auxerre are fourth and Grenoble are bottom. The difference in strength is right there."
"The ball is round. Isn't it common for bottom-placed teams to topple the top four? Besides, Grenoble brought in several new signings in the winter window. The team has improved."
"I believe in Matsui-kun!"
"..."
The Japanese fans' confidence came largely from the historical record at national-team level.
In head-to-head meetings between the Chinese and Japanese men's teams, Japan held the advantage.
That fact weighed like a stone on the heart of everyone who cared about Chinese football.
But Chinese fans refused to accept that argument.
"National teams are national teams, individuals are individuals. Want to have Daisuke Matsui compete with Zhang Kuang on goals?"
"Exactly. Zhang Kuang's next stop will definitely be a giant. Where's Daisuke Matsui going next?"
"Don't be so harsh. Daisuke Matsui is a Japanese international, after all."
"So what if he's a Japanese international? A Japanese international can't score in Ligue 1, while Zhang Kuang scores nine in three games. That's the difference."
"Let's wait until the match is over. Praise them if they win, curse them if they lose. Don't pop the champagne early."
"It's not popping champagne. It's stating facts. Auxerre could beat bottom-placed Grenoble with their eyes closed."
"Heh. If football were all about standings, why bother playing? Just hand out the trophy based on points."
"Anyway, I bet Zhang Kuang scores at least two this match."
"I bet three."
"I bet four."
"..."
The Chinese fans' optimism was not without reason.
Auxerre were in red-hot form, with three straight league wins and no goals conceded. Zhang Kuang alone had accounted for nine goals in that run. His form was outrageously good.
And Grenoble?
After twenty-two league matches, they had three wins, seven draws, and twelve losses, with sixteen points, sitting dead last. They were still five points from safety, their survival hopes hanging by a thread.
With these two teams facing off, the bookmakers' pre-match odds also confirmed the outside assessment-Auxerre were as short as 1.44 to win, Grenoble as long as 7.50, with the draw at 4.20.
"Auxerre giving one and a quarter goals, low payout," underground betting agent A Jie analyzed in his client group. "That's a hefty handicap. It shows the bookmakers really fancy Auxerre. And the payout is still dropping, which means the money is pouring onto Auxerre."
"Any chance of an upset?" a client asked.
"An upset?" A Jie thought for a moment. "Grenoble have only won twice at home this season, both against direct relegation rivals. They've lost every match against top-six teams. If you want to bet on an upset, you might as well bet on Zhang Kuang not scoring-the odds are higher."
"What are the odds on Zhang Kuang not scoring?"
"1.83. It means he'll most likely score."
"Then I'll just back Auxerre to win. Safer."
"Safe?" A Jie chuckled. "There's no such thing in football. But I'm telling you, the safest pick in this match is Zhang Kuang to score."
The client group fell silent for a few seconds.
Then someone sent a message: "I backed a Zhang Kuang hat-trick at 15.0. Dinner's on me if it hits."
A Jie looked at the message and shook his head.
Not because he thought it impossible, but because it seemed too crazy-an eighteen-year-old player, after three matches, was already being treated by the market as a "guaranteed scorer."
He had never seen anything like it in his seven or eight years as an underground betting agent.
On February 6, in Grenoble, the cold wind at the foot of the Alps cut bitterly.
The Stade des Alpes held twenty thousand, and every seat was filled that day.
Grenoble's fans knew their team were bottom, but they still packed the stadium-not because they believed their team could win, but because the opposition were Auxerre, the Auxerre with Zhang Kuang.
They wanted to see for themselves just how good this young Chinese player who had recently turned Ligue 1 upside down really was.
At three in the afternoon, the match kicked off on time.
Auxerre lined up in their usual 4-4-2, with Zhang Kuang partnering Jelen up front.
Grenoble used a defensive 4-5-1, with four defenders and five midfielders, leaving just one striker up front for counterattacks.
In the fifth minute, Zhang Kuang threatened with his very first touch.
Pedretti received the ball in midfield, spotted Zhang Kuang dropping back to offer an outlet outside the penalty arc, and sent an accurate pass along the ground toward him.
Zhang Kuang received it with his back to goal. Two Grenoble defenders immediately closed him down from behind and the side, giving him no room to turn.
Zhang Kuang did not try to force it.
He nudged the ball sideways with his left foot, opened up an angle, and then-
"Bang!"
From nearly twenty-eight meters out, he unleashed a long-range shot. The ball flew at tremendous speed, with a pronounced outward curve, straight toward the top-left corner.
Grenoble's goalkeeper did not even attempt a save-not because he did not want to, but because the ball was too fast for him to react.
"Clang!"
The ball struck the top edge of the crossbar and bounced out over the goal line.
"Whoa-" In the CCTV-5 studio, Liu Jianhong's voice carried unmistakable regret. "So close! Zhang Kuang's long-range shot hits the bar! If that had gone in, it would have been a worldie!"
"The goalkeeper didn't react at all," Xu Yang added. "Zhang Kuang hits the ball with incredible power. That sort of shot is a goalkeeper's nightmare. Unfortunately, the crossbar denied him."
With his hands on his hips, Zhang Kuang looked at the crossbar, which was still trembling slightly, shook his head, and turned to run back into position.
He was in no hurry.
Only five minutes had passed. There would be plenty of chances.
But the way the match unfolded gradually stripped away his relaxed attitude.
The eighth minute.
Grenoble's number 6-Togolese midfielder Jacques Romao-received the ball in midfield.
There were no obvious gaps in Auxerre's defensive shape. The positioning of their two holding midfielders, Pedretti and N'Dinga, looked fine.
But a through ball from Romao tore open the entire defensive line.
The ball passed through the gap between N'Dinga and Pedretti, arriving precisely behind Auxerre's defense.
Grenoble's newly signed Serbian striker Danijel Ljuboja beat the offside trap and went one-on-one with Auxerre goalkeeper Olivier Sorin.
Ljuboja received the ball to the left of the penalty arc, in a less than ideal position. His left foot was not his stronger foot, Sorin had closed down the near-post angle, and a recovering defender was covering the far corner.
Rather than try to dribble through, he shot directly with his left foot.
The ball was not especially fast, nor was the angle particularly difficult. It headed straight toward the near corner.
For a Ligue 1 goalkeeper, this should have been routine-cover the near post and block the ball away, or gather it into his arms.
But Sorin reacted a beat too late.
He had not fully lowered his center of gravity, and his saving motion froze halfway through. The ball slipped past his glove and rolled into the net.
1-0.
The Stade des Alpes erupted.