My Dad's Name Is Luo Zhihong

The facts proved that the truly amazing part was yet to come.

For the tenth ball, Wang Chao served again. This time, he sent over a dead long serve to the baseline. The ball popped up high and went off the table, like a beautiful, naked young woman sashaying up to a burly man, every pore on her body screaming the same thing: "Come on, hit me! Hit me to death!"

How shameless...

Li Shaoqin could no longer bear it. He refused to believe Wang Chao could pull off another volleyball-player-style power spike.

"I'll smash it!"

This shot was another full-force explosive drive, but it did not fly high. It was simply incredibly fast, carrying fierce spin as it shot more than five meters away in the blink of an eye.

Wang Chao had already stepped back and waited there, but the ball was too low for him to loop properly. Besides, he still had not built up his strength, so he simply lowered his paddle beneath the side and bottom of the ball and scooped upward. With a brush of friction, the ball flew back along a smooth trajectory.

It was a less-than-standard side chop. The ball was not particularly fast, but it traveled almost in a straight horizontal line, curving only from side to side.

It was lower than the net, but that did not matter, because it traveled outside the net, curving around its edge before drawing an extremely tight arc and barely "climbing" onto the side of the table.

Li Shaoqin tried to receive it, but the ball was far too low. He could not even fit a thin paddle into the gap between the ball and the tabletop. In the end, the edge of his paddle struck the table awkwardly with a bang and slid straight off, while the ball grazed the outside of Li Shaoqin's arm and flew away.

The paddle and ball hit the ground almost simultaneously, making two sounds with no clear order between them.

10:0. Wang Chao scored again.

"Wow!!!"

Luo Xiaoyu's cry of amazement was wildly exaggerated.

She was still a layman, so she did not understand the value of that shot. She only felt that it looked like a ball that could never possibly land on the table, yet it had done so in the end.

That curve, that effect—if she had to compare it to the football she loved, it was like a long-range free kick that bent in a massive arc around every opposing player before passing between the opposing goalkeeper's raised arms and into the net.

In the world of table tennis, a shot like that was called a "super shot." If one appeared in a major competition, it would most likely make the top ten highlights.

That was because such a shot could no longer be developed through hard practice alone. It required incomparable feel, a one-of-a-kind talent belonging solely to the player, something that could become the player's unique trademark.

Li Shaoqin did not go to pick up his paddle. He stood there blankly for several seconds, then suddenly ran up to Luo Xiaoyu and shouted at the camera, "I'm a pig! I'm a pig! I, Li Shaoqin, am a goddamn pig! Is that enough?"

After saying that, he lowered his head, refusing to look at anyone, and ran away as fast as he could.

Luo Xiaoyu was stunned for a long while before she realized what had happened. Then she was overjoyed. In that instant, she had already drafted a two-thousand-word news article in her head—explosive, full of twists, and technically insightful. It was guaranteed front-page material.

Of course, to write the report properly, she needed to ask Wang Chao about some professional terminology.

So she walked over to Wang Chao with a smile and extended a fair, delicate hand. "Hello, master."

Wang Chao did not shake her hand. He merely looked at her calmly.

Luo Xiaoyu was not angry and asked again, "What's your name?"

Wang Chao still said nothing.

"Was that some legendary hidden technique you just used? Like the secret arts never passed down by the great martial sects?"

Wang Chao said nothing.

"Are all table tennis players as taciturn as you?"

Wang Chao said nothing.

"Hey, what's with you? So what if you won a match? Do you know that accepting my interview can get you on television? It'll be good for your professional career." Luo Xiaoyu winked at Wang Chao. "So? Think about it. You might even gain some pretty female fans."

Wang Chao could not hold back any longer.

He sighed.

"First, miss, you need to understand something. If you're going to be a paparazzo, act like one."

"Second, remember this: when you're out on assignment, you need to take candid shots, not film people openly. Before you come, you need to do your research and understand the scene. You can't come in knowing absolutely nothing."

"Then, after watching the match, you should immediately write your article and beat everyone else to it. You shouldn't come running over to pester athletes."

"Oh, right, one last thing. This wasn't a promotion-relegation match. It was just an ordinary internal practice match. You picked the wrong interview subject."

Luo Xiaoyu was a little dumbfounded.

She stared at Wang Chao for a long time, then sighed as well.

"First, little brat, stop talking like an old man. I'm older than you. You should call me big sister, not miss."

"Second, I'm not paparazzi. I don't take candid photos, I don't write press releases, and I'm not pestering athletes. I sincerely want to do an exclusive interview with you."

"Then, let me introduce myself. My name is Luo Xiaoyu. I'm from Jiangcheng City TV Sports Channel, and I'm a genuine intern reporter."

"Oh, right, one last thing. My dad's name is Luo Zhihong."

In the end, Wang Chao still did not accept Luo Xiaoyu's interview request, even though she was Luo Zhihong's daughter.

Still, he did explain a little about what Penhold Backhand Loop was, what a chopping serve was, and some other common industry terms.

Thus, twenty minutes later, Luo Xiaoyu headed back with a video clip and three full pages of notes, feeling thoroughly rewarded.

From beginning to end, she had not gone over to take a single look at her father.

Luo Zhihong, however, did not know the truth. Throughout the promotion-relegation matches, he maintained an imposing, stern expression without smiling once. The other coaches and players were all somewhat uneasy, thinking the head coach was worried about Wu Li's sparring-partner situation.

After seeing Luo Xiaoyu off, Wang Chao went to check the cup of water. It had long since gone cold.

Reenacting Guan Yu's warm-wine execution of Hua Xiong was not so easy after all.

After all, Lord Guan only needed one slash to kill someone, while Wang Chao needed at least eleven balls to win a game—and Li Shaoqin had babbled on for so long before they even started.

The final results of the promotion-relegation matches were somewhat unexpected. Wang Chao and Jiang Shan defeated Gao Ming and Li Fang respectively, successfully earning promotion. Tian Ye, however, lost to main team player Zhou Bo after a hard-fought six-game battle and failed to advance.

The tense atmosphere hanging over the main team players and substitutes thus dissipated. Everyone scattered to practice freely, while Luo Xiaoyu, after returning to the television station, finally felt a pang of conscience and remembered to call her father.

"Dad, I suddenly realized today that your players are really strong."

Old Luo was very pleased and pressed further, "What about me?"

"You... of course you're even more impressive." Girls always had sweet tongues. Even when they lied, they could make people happy. "Dad, you were so commanding on the court today."

Luo Zhihong was satisfied. He felt that all the trouble of keeping up appearances throughout the morning had finally been rewarded. But it was not enough; he wanted to hear more flattering words from his obedient daughter. "Then tell me, what makes Dad's players so strong?"

"They're really incredibly strong!" Luo Xiaoyu finally had something to talk about. "It really opened my eyes! I used to think table tennis was just two people hitting the ball back and forth, completely boring. And they hit so fast that you can't even see clearly from far away. But today I learned that even a single serve has so many variations! High-Toss Serve, chopping serves, Penhold Backhand Loop, long-distance rallies, side chops... Oh, right, I even saw one of your players hit a super shot!"

Luo Zhihong was a little confused.

Instinctively, he wanted to ask whether his daughter had gone to the Jiangcheng City training base or the national team's training base in the capital, but then he understood.

His daughter must have done a great deal of preparation before coming. She had watched many international match videos and researched plenty of material, which was why she could name so many professional terms!

This child acted as though she despised it, but she had actually put in quite a lot of effort.

She had deliberately said all that because she probably wanted him to see how hard she had worked.

Luo Zhihong was deeply gratified. He did not ask further and simply nodded repeatedly. "Mm, mm, you're right."

Luo Xiaoyu said, "That player was really strong and hardworking. Everyone else went to watch the match, but he hid off to the side and practiced by himself. Ah, what a shame he talked too little, like a stuffy gourd. He refused to tell me his name even at the end. Dad, do you know who he is?"

Of course Luo Zhihong knew!

Who else could it be? Strong, quiet, and hardworking—it had to be that table-tennis maniac, Wu Li!

Thanks to "Book Friend 20170218173727105" for the monthly vote.