The Magpies were still probing for a breakthrough, but Arsenal's defensive shape was rock solid—there wasn't even the hint of a gap.
Especially with Arsenal's No. 4 patrolling the midfield like a hawk, Newcastle's attack was completely bogged down.
"How many damn times is that guy gonna ruin our plays?" one of the away fans muttered in frustration.
Marveaux, stuck trying to make things happen in midfield, was visibly agitated. But what could he do?
At this point, he was hoping Kai would just leave him alone and go mark someone else.
But Kai had already moved on.
After a string of clean interceptions, Marveaux's confidence had dipped. He was second-guessing every pass, playing more conservatively, almost scared to take risks.
Mission accomplished.
But while Marveaux had faded, another Newcastle player was still ticking.
Demba Ba.
The Senegalese striker, who'd first made waves at Hoffenheim, had been electric in the Premier League since arriving. But his momentum took a hit when Newcastle brought in Papiss Cissé, pushing Ba out wide and stalling his goal tally.
Now, back in the center, he was regaining form.
Demba Ba was an instinctive striker, a guy who could smash home a volley without a second thought. His finishing was lethal, and both feet were deadly accurate.
Since February 2011, Ba had notched 35 Premier League goals between West Ham and Newcastle.
Only two players had outscored him during that time: Robin van Persie with 64 and Wayne Rooney with 44.
In short, Ba was firmly on Kai's radar.
But so far today, he'd barely made an impact.
He wasn't pressing, wasn't moving much—just hanging around, waiting for the ball. Kai had clocked that and started marking him tightly.
One shot. That's all Ba had managed. And it was a complete misfire, sailing into the stands like a surface-to-air missile.
Demba Ba was fuming.
Hands on hips, he glanced back toward midfield and wanted to scream.
Just then, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
Arsenal's No. 4 walked past him and threw out a one-liner:
"You're seriously having a shocker today."
Demba Ba shot him a glare.
Kai didn't flinch. He stared right back.
You got a problem?
Ba narrowed his eyes and smirked. "Trying to wind me up, huh? Not falling for that."
Kai raised his eyebrows. "Wow. So you are smart—just not smart enough to score."
He thumped his chest, grinned, and added, "C'mon then. Mr. Top Striker. Get past me.."
Ba turned away, annoyed but trying not to let it show.
Still, the kid had gotten under his skin.
Being taunted by some young player wasn't a great look.
As Kai jogged away, Ba muttered under his breath, " I'll show you what a real striker looks like."
Fueled by irritation, Demba Ba started dropping deeper to get on the ball.
Kai saw it and smiled.
Perfect.
The worst thing Ba could do was stay static—it was like having a nail jammed in the heart of their defense. Now that he was moving, it made life easier for the Arsenal backline.
Kai, for his part, kept grinding. His engine was relentless—he could run at full tilt for 90 minutes without blinking.
And his defense wasn't just wild chasing. Most of the time, he and his teammates maintained a structured zone, forming two parallel lines in front of the goal—eight players moving in sync, shifting left and right as one to deny gaps.
Now and then, Kai would break out for a solo press.
That was something Wenger had entrusted him with—full freedom to press and intercept across the pitch.
Technically, he could even chase into the opponent's box if he wanted. But Kai knew better.
As he kept one eye on Ba and another on the defensive structure, he saw his chance.
Demba Ba had just dropped in, received the ball, and turned to attack, heading right for Kai's zone.
The striker might've looked casual, but there was intent behind that move.
He wanted to teach the kid a lesson.
Kai didn't hesitate.
"Take him down!" he roared.
Ramsay and Chamberlain immediately collapsed in, joining the hunt.
The three of them swarmed Ba like wolves. Within seconds, the striker was surrounded and dispossessed, stumbling away dazed.
Ian Darke, from the commentary booth, chuckled.
"Well, Steve, I'd say that's what you call coordinated chaos."
Steve McManaman laughed. "Yep, and Ba just got a crash course in Arsenal's press."
Demba Ba, frustrated, threw up his hands
Kai shrugged.
With a swift and precise tackle, Kai and two teammates stripped the ball from Demba Ba and immediately launched a counterattack.
Because the possession changed near the center circle—and Demba Ba had just dropped back to receive—it caught the Newcastle players out of position. They'd begun surging forward, misreading the play as an attacking opportunity.
Now, stunned and scrambling, they were vulnerable.
"Lovely bit of team pressing!" Ian Darke said, voice rising with excitement. "And now Arsenal are on the break!"
The Gunners surged forward with pace. Ramsey quickly moved the ball to Kai. Kai looked up, scanning the field.
Ahead, Suarez and Walcott were dueling with the Newcastle backline, stretching them into a loose, curved shape.
Kai narrowed his eyes and activated that uncanny sense of timing he had. The future seemed to slow down for him for just a moment.
A small grin played on his lips.
He took a quick breath, shifted his balance, and fired a low-driven pass with his left foot, like drawing a bow and letting it snap.
Bang.
The ball zipped along the ground, curving perfectly between defenders Santon and Perch. It was a grounded arc, not a lofted pass—a thing of beauty that bent just enough to meet Walcott's diagonal run.
Walcott's eyes lit up. He burst forward, brushing aside Coloccini with raw pace.
The crowd rose as one.
"Walcott! Through on goal!" Ian Darke shouted.
The Emirates was electric.
As Walcott approached the penalty area, the Newcastle keeper came rushing out to narrow the angle. Walcott, cool as you like, flicked the ball up with his toe.
It floated—light, controlled, inevitable—and dropped gently into the back of the net.
"Oooh, yes! Walcott!!" Ian Darke roared. "That's the opener for Arsenal! And I'm telling you now—no way that's offside. That was timed to perfection!"
The Emirates exploded in celebration.
Walcott turned and pointed both index fingers at Kai, grinning ear to ear before giving him a thumbs-up.
Brilliant pass.
Kai didn't rush to celebrate. He smiled, nodded, and returned the gesture.
Beautiful finish.
Steve McManaman chuckled. "You've got to love that. Mutual appreciation between teammates. Walcott did the business—but that pass from Kai... top-class."
"Right through the gap," Ian added. "Just the right weight, the right curve. That's vision, that's technique. You don't coach that."
Replays were already playing on the big screen, especially the close-up of Kai's foot slicing across the ball to create that elegant bend.
Arsenal fans around the stadium let out gasps of admiration.
"A beautiful arc," one supporter muttered. "Absolute poetry."
...
Beijing
In the Chinese commentary, Zhan Jun was shouting, "Walcott! One-on-one! Chip shot—perfect!"
He added with excitement, "In the 41st minute, just before the break, Walcott scores to give Arsenal a 1–0 lead over Newcastle!"
Zhang Lu jumped in: "Kai deserves so much credit for that assist. That pass—one touch, grounded arc—completely split the Newcastle defense."
"Exactly," Zhan Jun agreed. "At the key moment, Kai made the decision and executed perfectly. Now I understand why Wenger trusts him at the heart of both defense and midfield."
"Outstanding at stealing the ball, and now this flair for decisive passing—what a weapon!"
Online, fans were going wild on Weibo.
@Xiao Chen
Kai is insane!!
@+99999999 Social_Score
"That pass curved like it had GPS!
@ChinaNumbawan
Left foot, did anyone catch that? Is he ambidextrous?!
@BobbaTea
I thought he was just a defensive monster—didn't expect this kind of passing flair!
@FootballScientist (reply-@BobbaTea)
He's not a pure playmaker yet, though. Needs to refine his ball control and vision more.
@BobbaTea (reply-@FootballScientist)
True. But if he gets there, he'll replace Arteta when old as the midfield brain.
@ DaoistTenHeavens
Wang Yi finally has a teammate who can deliver the ball where he wants it. No more chasing hopeless passes all game!
@Delusionist_101
Chen, Fernando, and now this—bring on the 2014 World Cup already!💕🤞⚽🏆
...
On the sidelines, Arsenal's bench erupted.
Wenger, however, stood still, eyes fixed on Kai.
That low-cut arc pass had stunned even him.
Kai's passing had always been good—solid, practical. Occasionally, he'd produce a slick through-ball. But this… this was different. Elegant, precise, and imaginative.
Wenger's mind was already racing.
If—just if—Kai could continue improving his ball-handling and playmaking…
How terrifying would it be to have a midfield anchor who could both shut down attacks and launch surgical counters?
Arteta's calm distribution.
Cazorla's dribbling flair.
Kai's defensive steel and that pass.
Wenger's eyes flickered.
Maybe—just maybe—this team could be built into something to rival the magic of 2005–06.
Then he remembered Kai's last-minute stunner against Manchester United.
His fists clenched till pale.
No.
He wasn't dreaming.