The course of the match did not shift according to anyone's will.
For the next two points, Wang Chao no longer used sneak long serves, instead choosing short backspin serves.
The match returned to the starting line.
It began conventionally and ended conventionally, with both sides playing the simplest, clearest, and most flawless shots.
The moment either side showed an opening, the other would launch an attack.
Half the time, the attack ended the point.
The other half, it led to a rally.
Wang Chao won the next two rally points and scored once on an attacking opportunity.
The score went from 7:1 to 10:1.
Zhu Ding had one final serve remaining.
Zhu Ding's gaze had become fiercely sharp. Standing on the left side of the table, he tossed the ball up but did not dare serve, catching it again. He tossed it once more, caught it again, and then received a warning from the referee.
He was observing extremely subtle things that he had rarely paid attention to on the court before.
For instance, every time he tossed the ball, Wang Chao's body would instinctively tense, then anticipate a move in a certain direction.
Zhu Ding tossed the ball three times, and Wang Chao moved three times. It almost looked like someone teasing a monkey.
But Wang Chao was obviously not the monkey.
He was simply in such scorching form that, even before Zhu Ding struck the ball, he could vaguely grasp the pattern of Zhu Ding's serve. His mind passed that information to his body, allowing him to make his move in advance.
Every athlete understood anticipation. But if you could ensure that your anticipation was one hundred percent accurate, then it was no longer anticipation. It was "figuring it out."
Ordinary people had a more straightforward way