Julien lay on the ground, grimacing. During a high-speed sprint, even simple physical contact could easily cause a fall, let alone Silva's "takedown."
Julien felt that his arm, due to the tussle with Silva and his awkward landing position, had twisted his shoulder.
It was very likely a strain.
The team doctor promptly entered the field for examination.
On the sideline, whether it was Hadzibegic or Chataigner and Geronimi in the stands, all looked somewhat tense.
As the saying went, Bastia could do without anyone except Julien.
Julien was now Bastia's soul!
"Julien!"
"Julien!!"
While Julien received treatment, the entire stadium chanted his name, many praying for him.
The fans didn't know what had happened, but everyone understood that Julien wasn't made of steel—he had been injured many times before.
At this moment, the fans no longer cared about the red card the referee had shown, nor about the PSG players' anger.
Their full attention was on Julien—
"How is it?"
The team doctor sprayed ethyl chloride on Julien to provide some pain relief.
"It hurts a bit." Julien assessed his shoulder condition while checking his injury status.
[Left shoulder joint mild sprain: Expected recovery time 8 days.]
Not a major injury, but it was quite painful.
"Do you need to come off?" the team doctor asked again.
Julien shook his head.
He couldn't leave this match. As long as he was in the attacking third, PSG wouldn't dare launch all-out attacks—at minimum, he could pose a threat to their back line.
Moreover, PSG was now down a man.
Ibrahimović kept arguing with the referee and received a yellow card warning.
Ibrahimović could only smile helplessly and gave a thumbs up.
Julien used his right hand to help De Bruyne pull him up.
Seeing that Julien wasn't seriously hurt, the fans breathed a sigh of relief and applauded him.
Only the team doctor's expression wasn't so cheerful.
He knew Julien was pushing through—the injury wasn't as minor as Julien was making it appear.
Bastia had a very long-range free kick, which they played as a regular ball.
Even with a man advantage, Bastia didn't increase their attacking intensity, still maintaining deep defense with minimal counter-attacking players up front.
The ball reached Julien's feet. But when he tried to dribble, he clearly felt pain from his shoulder, affecting his ball control.
Facing Maxwell's marking, Julien passed back.
This was just an unremarkable moment in the match—a winger with the ball finding no opportunity and passing back.
But when it came to Julien, it didn't seem quite right.
Only Maxwell was pressing him, with Verratti not yet in position. Under normal circumstances, Julien would definitely have charged straight through.
Many fans began to worry.
"Julien is injured again." Zidane shook his head.
Julien's talent was unquestionable. But just as many media outlets questioned, Julien seemed to have a tendency toward being injury-prone.
"The intensity of matches will only increase. Perhaps he could try building muscle to improve his physical confrontations." Deschamps said helplessly.
Zidane immediately disagreed, "Risky muscle building would not only eliminate his current finesse, but might actually increase his injury risk. He's still young—not suitable for bulking up."
There were many such examples—muscle building not only eliminated original agility advantages but actually increased physical burden, leading to more injuries.
Three minutes later, Bastia made a substitution on the sideline.
Number 10 Julien came off.
Number 9 Lukaku came on.
Seeing himself substituted, Julien felt somewhat resigned—he could still continue.
Clap clap clap!
The entire stadium rose to applaud and cheer for Julien.
He had already done enough in this match.
The TF1 commentator said: "That fall definitely affected Julien—he probably has a minor injury. Bastia didn't take risks and substituted him."
Fans watching the broadcast cursed Silva for his earlier foul.
With the Europa League match coming up, he had injured Julien.
At the Sunset Café Bar, Martin looked dejected: "In three days we play away in the Czech Republic. Julien will hardly be able to play."
"Sigh."
Everyone sighed, completely without joy despite leading in this match.
On the field, Rothen told Julien, "Rest well. We've got this match."
Teammates along the way also high-fived Julien. At the sideline, Lukaku embraced Julien and said, "Leave it to me now."
Hadzibegic quickly approached: "The shoulder problem isn't minor. Don't push it. Even if we lose one match, it's fine—but we can't lose you."
Hadzibegic explained to Julien why he was being substituted.
Julien understood.
The team doctor quickly took Julien to the locker room to treat his shoulder injury.
Whoosh!
Just as Julien reached the tunnel entrance, the entire stadium gasped.
Looking back, it was Lukaku—on his first pressing attempt after coming on, he had slipped and fallen.
PSG down a man.
Bastia with Julien injured and off.
The match had developed to this point and seemed quite brutal.
The fans' gasps rose and fell.
Despite being down a man, PSG still held the initiative, and was continuously attacking Bastia through the connections of Pastore, Verratti, and others.
At this point, Bastia had even Lukaku dropping deep.
Could they hold on?
This was every Bastia fan's thought.
The broadcast camera returned to the bench—Julien, after treatment by the team doctor in the locker room, had his left shoulder wrapped with an ice pack.
"Without Julien, our attacks rely completely on speed charges. Whether it's Mané or Lukaku, neither has Julien's technical ability. Sigh."
Some Bastia fans felt regretful. But others were encouraged.
"Look at it differently—we're a newly promoted team that can push a Ligue 1 powerhouse like PSG to this extent. Doesn't this show our unlimited potential this season?"
Time gradually passed.
Bastia's counter-attacks became fewer and fewer. By the seventieth minute, everyone felt their stamina approaching the breaking point.
Bang!
Verratti struck a low drive from the edge of the penalty area. Cahuzac slid to block the shot.
After deflecting the shot, Cahuzac instinctively tried to get up quickly, but seeing a teammate fouled while controlling the ball, he simply lay on the ground for a moment, pointing to his leg.
Angoula, who was nearest, walked over: "Cramp?"
"Yeah."
With just simple words, Angoula lifted Cahuzac's leg and pressed hard.
On the other side, Rothen, also fouled and on the ground, was clutching his ankle.
Brutal.
This was the thought of every fan watching the match.
As PSG's possession became like overwhelming dark clouds covering Stade Armand Cesari, every Bastia player nailed himself near the penalty area, using slides, headers, even their teeth to fight for every inch of space.
No elegance, only survival.
In this moment, many neutral fans suddenly hoped Bastia could win this match to show PSG that money football isn't always so effective.
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