FORESIGHT

Guo Haoran is a well-known football blogger on Weibo. Over the past five years, he has roamed across Europe, hopping from one iconic stadium to another, documenting his journeys with match clips and vivid fan experiences.

What started as a passion project—fueled by his love of football and the thrill of being part of Europe's biggest atmospheres—has now become his livelihood. Each video he posts funds the next leg of his travels, keeping the cycle alive.

His rise in popularity began with two standout series: A Little Red in the Parc des Princes and Porto Supercar.

Those videos went viral, pulling in hundreds of thousands of views and establishing him as one of the more engaging Chinese voices covering European football.

These days, however, Guo Haoran has shifted his focus. His main content now focuses on following Chinese players abroad, charting their growth in some of the world's toughest leagues.

And his next stop? London.

The city that houses Arsenal Football Club, the home of Chinese midfielder Kai.

Kai has quickly become a flagbearer for his generation back home. Players like Wang Yi, who broke through at a very young age, are still considered part of the previous wave. But Kai, alongside Chen Man and Fernando Kairui, represents the new standard. Among them all, Kai's reputation shines brightest.

After all, how many players can say they wore the captain's armband for a Premier League giant at just 19 years old?

Chinese fans still recall with regret the missed opportunity in June. Kai had been sidelined by injury during the Asian qualifiers, leaving supporters with a sense of incompleteness. The team performed admirably, but for many, it didn't feel like a true representation of Chinese football without him anchoring the midfield.

Without Kai, the national team's persistent weakness in the middle of the park remained exposed. Many believe that his presence is the key to finally solving that issue.

It was this growing anticipation and fan demand that spurred Guo Haoran to resume his European journey. After stops in Portugal, France, and Spain, he was now heading to England—the grand finale of this leg of his travels.

The weather was perfect, a clear sky hanging over the capital as Guo walked briskly down the streets leading to the Emirates Stadium, phone in hand, capturing every step. The route was lined with supporters, many of them in the red and white of Arsenal, plenty wearing the No. 4 shirt—Kai's number.

When the Emirates finally loomed into view, Guo's excitement swelled. A massive banner stretched across the façade, featuring four Arsenal players front and centre. Among them, unmistakably, was Kai. To the side, a solo shot showed him mid-roar, arms spread wide, radiating intensity.

Guo turned the camera toward the image and shouted, almost breathless:

"I'm here! This is London, this is the Emirates Stadium—Arsenal's fortress! Behind me, look—Kai's right there, front and centre. That's what it means to be the face of a club!"

He spun around to capture the crowd behind him, then continued:

"Kai has achieved a lot here in just three seasons, becoming one of the hottest young prospects in Europe. Today, we're about to see him and Arsenal against Manchester United. Gunners versus Red Devils—it doesn't get more classic than this. Let's go inside together!"

Guo's seat was in the front section, close enough to feel the energy crackling off the pitch. Just two rows separated him from the field, and directly beside him was the tunnel from which the players would emerge.

The atmosphere was already electric, the stands reverberating with chants and songs well before kick-off. Guo, swept up in the passion, even joined in on a few Arsenal chants he had quickly picked up.

He swung the camera around again, grinning broadly:

"Listen to this! Who dares call this place a library? This is the Emirates—alive, loud, and absolutely rocking!"

As if on cue, a sudden roar erupted from the stands. Guo spun back toward the tunnel.

The players were coming out.

One by one, the Arsenal squad strode onto the pitch to begin their warm-up. Each name brought a fresh wave of cheers.

"Suárez!"

"Cazorla!"

"Vermaelen!"

Then, the stadium reached another level entirely. The big screen lit up with the image of a black-haired young man, and the roar of the crowd turned into a thunderous chant.

"KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAI!"

Kai jogged out from the tunnel, raising his arms and turning in a slow circle, acknowledging the sea of voices before slipping seamlessly into his warm-up routine.

Guo, now standing on his seat, cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted with all the force he could muster, desperate to be heard in the cacophony.

"Kai! Kai! Over here!"

The camera shook in his hand as he yelled, capturing the unfiltered rawness of the moment.

And for fans in China, the night was only beginning.

Guo Haoran tried shouting Kai's name over the noise, but his voice was swallowed by the wall of sound inside the Emirates. Even so, his chest swelled with burning excitement.

This was the first time he had seen Kai up close, and the feeling was overwhelming.

The first impression that struck him wasn't grace or elegance—it was sheer oppression—a sense of physical authority.

Turning his camera back toward himself, Guo blurted out with unrestrained enthusiasm:

"Did you see that? Did you guys see that? Oh my god—what power! On TV, you don't feel it, but here in person, Kai is something else entirely. I always thought Wang Yi was strong enough, but compared to Kai… It's night and day."

The home crowd booed loudly as the Manchester United squad began walking out to warm up. The Arsenal faithful responded with chants of their own, their voices surging like waves.

It didn't take long for the Emirates to explode again—barely five minutes into the first half. Arsenal carved Manchester United open with a move straight from the training ground.

Kai started it, breaking through the midfield line with a perfectly weighted pass from the left. Walcott latched onto it with blistering pace, combining quickly with Cazorla in a sharp one-two. The ball was moved forward at speed, the United defence scrambling, before Suárez arrived in the box to slot home with precision.

The roar was deafening. Arsenal fans leapt from their seats, arms aloft, their tension easing into jubilation.

By contrast, Manchester United looked hesitant, lacking their usual bite. Under Moyes, the team appeared disjointed, uncertain, and repeatedly guilty of small errors in possession. Arsenal seized on every mistake, applying steady pressure, even if they didn't always add to the scoreline.

And through it all, Kai was everywhere.

On the defensive end, he shadowed Shinji Kagawa relentlessly. The Japanese playmaker, renowned for his technical finesse, found himself constantly pushed off balance, unable to complete even the simplest link-up passes. Kai's physical dominance turned every duel into a mismatch.

Guo Haoran could barely contain himself. His mind flashed back to the Asian qualifiers, when Japan's Europe-based midfield had bossed China. Led by Kagawa, they had smothered the Chinese midfield. Without Fernando Kairui's desperate interventions at the back and Chen Man's quick break to set up Wang Yi's goal, the scoreline could have been humiliating.

That night had been a painful reminder of China's weakness in midfield. But here, watching Kai manhandle Kagawa, snapping into tackles and still finding time to orchestrate Arsenal's counters, Guo felt his spine straighten with pride.

Then came the moment that set the Emirates alight again.

Kagawa, waiting to receive a pass, was suddenly jolted off his feet—Kai had barreled into him, muscled him aside like he was a schoolboy, and emerged with the ball at his feet. In a flash, he surged forward, driving into United's half.

The Arsenal players sprang to life around him, sprinting toward the penalty area. Kai glanced up once, then with the inside of his right boot, delivered a curling pass that bent beautifully around Vidic and Evans, dropping into open space on the left.

The commentary team reacted instantly.

Martin Taylor (Sky Sports): "That's magnificent! Look at that for a pass—Kai has bent it right around the United centre-backs!"

Alan Smith: "He's got such vision, Martin. That's not just a hopeful ball—it's precision. He's picked Walcott's run perfectly. This is opening them up again!"

On the pitch, Walcott hit full stride, leaving Smalling for dead. With a deft touch, he cut the ball across Evans's path, angling toward goal. The United defenders threw their hands up, appealing for offside, but the assistant referee kept his flag tucked firmly by his side. Play on.

De Gea, seeing the danger unfold, bolted off his line, shouting and swearing as he rushed to narrow the angle.

But Walcott had one more trick. Just before the penalty area, he slammed on the brakes. Evans, expecting a shot, went sliding past in desperation. Calm as you like, Walcott rolled the ball sideways.

And there was Suárez.

The Uruguayan forward, cool under pressure, slotted the ball toward the empty net. It clipped the inside of the left post before rolling in.

The Emirates erupted again.

In the 36th minute, Arsenal had doubled their lead, 2–0 against Manchester United.

Martin Taylor: "And that's the second! Arsenal is flying here at the Emirates. Walcott with the composure, Suárez with the finish—but the architect, once again, was Kai. What a performance he's putting in."

Alan Smith: "He's been everywhere, Martin. Breaking up play, dictating tempo, spraying passes like that—United can't cope. It's turning into a nightmare for them."

..

In the fans the Suarez chants sounded.

Caller: "Who's gonna score?"

Crowd: "Suárez!"

Caller: "Who's gonna roar?"

Crowd: "Suárez!"

Together: "North London's red,

The goals in the net,

Luis Suárez — he ain't done yet!"

Guo Haoran, nearly losing his voice, screamed into his camera:

"Goal for the Arsenallll!!!"