On Saturday afternoon, Liverpool was finally free of the relentless drizzle that had lingered for days. Long-awaited sunlight broke through the clouds, spilling over the district of Anfield in the city's northeast.
It seemed an omen for the afternoon match—a sign that Liverpool might shake off the gloom of their recent defeats.
Standing quietly through a century of trials and tempests, Anfield stadium remained the irreplaceable shrine in the hearts of all Liverpool supporters.
Du An and Ethan stepped into this hallowed ground with nervous anticipation.
Neither of them had ever attended a professional football match in person; at most, they had watched informal kickabouts on a community pitch.
Excitement surged through them.
They could hardly wait for kickoff.
Du An kept taking in Anfield with inquisitive eyes. Before coming, he and Ethan had both done their homework on its history.
Today's Anfield was no longer the rudimentary ground of its early years, yet it still retained the purest character of an old English football stadium.
Its name was straightforward, taken directly from the district where it stood. The land had long since merged into one with the stadium; this ground was Anfield, and the surrounding neighborhood was Anfield.
Many European stadiums followed the same custom, much like the San Siro in Milan.
Looking out over Anfield, Du An heard Heighway's words echoing in his mind again and again: One day, you will truly set foot on that pitch.
Du An recalled what he had read the night before.
As it turned out, the original master of this sanctuary of the Reds was not Liverpool.
When Anfield was first built, it served as the home ground of Everton Football Club.
A man named John Houlding held ownership of the land.
In 1892, he abruptly raised the rent by a staggering margin. Negotiations completely broke down, and left with no choice, Everton was forced to leave Anfield and move to what is now Goodison Park.
It was in that very same year that John Houlding founded a brand-new club right here on the Anfield site: Liverpool Football Club.
With that, the dust settled, and Anfield formally became Liverpool's permanent home.
A vigil kept for over a century.
It had witnessed every storm from the club's birth to its rise.
It had witnessed every match played here by the supreme talents who pulled on the red shirt:
Sam Raybould, Gordon Hodgson, Billy Liddell, Kenny Dalglish, Steven Gerrard...
Generation after generation had carried Liverpool forward.
Following the crowd, Du An and Ethan made their way inside.
The first thing that caught their eyes was the stadium's most renowned section: the Kop.
The name traced back to 1900 during the Second Boer War, when the Battle of Spion Kop was fought in South Africa and numerous local soldiers from Liverpool lost their lives, buried in foreign soil.
Du An recalled from history class that Winston Churchill had served as a courier in that very battle.
In memory of those fallen men, when Liverpool erected a new terrace in 1906, they named it the Spion Kop.
It was a common practice among other clubs at the time.
Blackpool's Bloomfield Road, Birmingham City's St Andrew's, and Sheffield Wednesday's Hillsborough all had stands bearing the name Kop.
Yet Liverpool's Kop was by far the most famous.
It had become Anfield's greatest hallmark and the exclusive totem of Liverpool's die-hard supporters.
Unfortunately, the two complimentary tickets Heighway had given them were not for the legendary Kop, but for the Centenary Stand on the opposite side of the pitch.
The Centenary Stand had a history of its own.
This section had originally been Kemlyn Road beside the ground. In 1981, Liverpool Football Club acquired the entire street, and after years of planning and redevelopment, construction on a two-tier stand began in 1990 before finally reaching completion in 1992.
Coinciding with the club's centenary celebrations, this new two-tier structure was officially christened the Centenary Stand.
The two brothers scanned their surroundings as they searched for their seats.
Looking across the ground, the most boiling, vibrant spectacle remained the Kop.
As the most renowned supporters' terrace in all of England, the Kop was where Liverpool's most fiercely loyal fans converged.
In the early years, the Kop had been a purely standing terrace, devoid of seats or partitions, where tens of thousands of supporters stood shoulder to shoulder, singing in unison with voices that shook the entire ground.
It had been a breathtaking sight.
Later, following the tragic disasters at Heysel and Hillsborough, the Football Association enforced strict safety regulations to eliminate hazards and restore order, mandating all-seater stadiums from 1994 onward.
Yet rules could only alter the appearance of a stand.
They could never extinguish the passion ingrained in the bones of Liverpool supporters.
Even with an all-seater layout, die-hard fans still stood for the full ninety minutes of every home match to roar on their team.
Tens of thousands of red figures stood row upon row across the terrace, their singing never ceasing for a single second.
The melody of "You'll Never Walk Alone" soared above Anfield again and again—scalding, sincere, and majestic!
Ethan felt the blood boiling in his veins.
He was finally seeing with his own eyes the Anfield described countless times in newspapers. He was seeing the fabled, never-ending red Kop, seeing the fiercest faith that belonged to Liverpool!
Du An stood beside his younger brother, gazing out over the clamoring stadium and listening to the waves of chants and songs washing past his ears.
In this moment, he seemed to understand the solemn weight of Anfield, the century-deep heritage of Liverpool, and the passionate devotion Ethan had held for so many years.
Immersed in such an atmosphere, Du An felt his own breath grow short.
"So this is Anfield..." he murmured to himself.
Yet what followed was even more overwhelming.
The moment the players emerged onto the pitch, all of Anfield seemed to ignite like a powder keg. An earth-shattering roar erupted, sweeping across the entire stadium.
A deafening wall of sound crashed over them, carrying the fervor of tens of thousands of fans into every single corner of the ground.
Caught completely off guard, Du An felt his ears ring from the sheer sonic blast.
It was his very first time feeling the madness of a top-tier Premier League home crowd in the flesh.
The frenzy of Anfield was the unified roar of thousands sharing a single heartbeat, the thundering resonance of a faith coursing through red veins.
As far as the eye could see, the vast red sea stood as one, arms raised high, shouting in rhythm:
"Gerrard!"
"Steven Gerrard!"
Beside him, Ethan had already reached a fever pitch, screaming at the top of his lungs along with the crowd, radiating the exact same wild devotion.
Du An's gaze fell upon the man worshiped by the Liverpool faithful.
Steven Gerrard.
Liverpool's captain, the banner of Anfield, the irreplaceable idol in the heart of every Red.
The tickets Heighway had given them were excellent, positioned very close to the pitch.
Du An could see everything clearly.
Beside Gerrard stood Xabi Alonso, Riise, Hyypiä, Reina... Names Du An had seen printed in newspapers were now appearing right before his eyes in flesh and blood.
They were no longer cold ink and pictures.
The stadium's roar never abated, casting a feverish shroud over every corner of Anfield.
His spirits soaring, Ethan turned sideways and leaned close to Du An's ear, chatting incessantly above the din to fill him in. "Look, Du An! That's Kuyt! The new signing who just joined this summer!"
"He transferred over from the Dutch Eredivisie. He's incredibly strong. I hope he adapts to the pace of the Premier League soon!"
Ethan gave a small, rueful sigh. "You have no idea—Morientes, our main striker last season, had a massive reputation. Before coming to Liverpool, he led Monaco all the way to the Champions League final and finished as the tournament's top scorer. His quality was absolute top tier. But who could've guessed that once he arrived in the Premier League, he'd go totally cold? He couldn't find his scoring boots at all and ended up being sold back to La Liga. And the minute he went back, he started scoring goals for fun again. Such a shame..."
Their conversation happened to catch the ear of a middle-aged Liverpool supporter standing beside them, who burst out laughing.
"To hell with Morientes! He completely ruined our front line last season! Wasted so many chances!"
Having vented, the man immediately turned toward Kuyt on the pitch and threw his fist into the air, shouting, "But Kuyt's got it in him! The lad's proper quality! He scored against Newcastle last week! He's going to bag countless goals here at Anfield!"
The surrounding supporters chimed in with roaring agreement.
Fervent and blazing hot.
Surrounded by the crowd, Du An's tense posture gradually eased as he slowly acclimatized to the environment.
Yet it was obvious Ethan was far more at home than he was.
The chanting never relented.
There was no apathy here, no silence.
Only a shared faith, boiling passion, and an endless frenzy.
Just as the fervor reached another crest, an even fiercer roar erupted across the entire stadium.
Tweet!
The referee blew the opening whistle.
Liverpool at home against Tottenham Hotspur—the first professional football match Du An had ever witnessed in his life—was underway.
Chapter 18