"What was he doing?" He Jingping could not help complaining. "Just taking hits without attacking?"
"He was feeling things out," Zhu Zeshi said gravely. "He knew his old style could never beat Wang Chao, so he wanted to try something different. But he had not found a better path yet, so it made him look passive."
Cai Guodong smiled. "Old He, just enjoy the match. Don't worry so much. There's a clear gap between these two. Unless something unexpected happens, Wang Chao is guaranteed to win."
But He Jingping would not let it go. He continued staring fixedly at the television screen, watching every ball with the utmost care.
Seeing the look on his face, the others stopped trying to persuade him and merely sighed soundlessly.
They could imagine He Jingping's complicated feelings at that moment.
This was the second time He Jingping had watched Wang Chao play Zhu Ding through a screen.
The first time had been at a Table Tennis First Division match, when Wang Chao had utterly crushed Zhu Ding, destroying his confidence, shattering his beliefs, and leaving him in complete despair. He had even been shut out in the final game.
Everyone else had found excuses to leave after that match. He Jingping had stayed alone in the room, watching and crying.
That time, he had prayed with all his heart for Wang Chao to win, because only then would Zhu Ding abandon those unrealistic obsessions.
But this time was different.
He Jingping felt an extraordinarily deep pity and guilt toward Zhu Ding.
It was not because he had truly wronged Zhu Ding. It was because he was the elder who had raised Zhu Ding from childhood. Aside from the lack of blood ties, his bond with Zhu Ding was even deeper than Zhu Zeshi's bond