Internal Round Robin

Seven days later, the racket arrived. It had inverted rubber on the forehand and short pips on the backhand. Two intertwined gold-and-red koi were painted on the handle, making it look beautiful and festive, perfectly suited to Chinese aesthetic tastes.

Wang Chao gave it a rough feel. Overall, it was pretty good. If the blade were a little crisper, the weight a little lighter, the rubber less tacky, and the bounce a little stronger, it would have been even better.

But he could understand. After all, this was not a high-end custom job, so it could not be refined down to that level of detail.

This racket was still far more usable than the spare ones at the base.

So he used a carving knife to neatly engrave the two characters "Wang Chao" on the cross-section of the handle, as though only then could it signify that he had truly become a professional table tennis player in this life.

One day afterward, when Wang Chao went to the cafeteria for a meal, the long-unseen Cook unexpectedly appeared behind him and took the initiative to speak. "Kid, you played well in that match."

Wang Chao froze. By the time he turned around to reply, Cook had already drifted away, once again wearing that unapproachable expression.

Wang Chao found it somewhat amusing. Cook had probably watched that match on the evening sports news and been moved by it.

A week ago, although Wang Chao had still been rather unpolished technically, this body's touch had truly been unparalleled. That super shot had indeed been a genuine super shot.

It was the kind of miraculous shot that could make even national-team coaches marvel.

He remembered that, in his previous life, the coaches he knew could roughly be divided into two types.

The first type preferred hardworking, diligent players and did not demand that their athletes possess heaven-defying talent, because they firmly believed that no matter what kind of genius someone was, they would ultimately have to follow the path of "training."

The second type, meanwhile, favored true "super geniuses," because they believed that an athlete's touch had an upper limit. Training could only improve ordinary acquired skills; it could never allow an ordinary athlete to attain the innate touch of a super genius.

And so-called "super shots" were precisely a realm that only super geniuses could reach.

Wang Chao guessed that Cook was probably the second type of coach. Having seen his super shot, Cook had become a little tempted.

Two days later, some team members saw visitors arriving at the base: a group of middle-aged men who looked like business elites, each dressed in a sharply pressed suit.

The group entered Luo Zhihong's office. They did not emerge until much later, looking displeased as they hurried away.

News soon spread that they were from the Black Spade Q Table Tennis Club and had come specifically to seek help from the city base.

"Black Spade Q hasn't done well these past two years. Apparently, the financial backer behind them took a huge loss in the capital market, leaving the club in a tight financial spot. It's hard for them to sign any capable players."

In the dormitory, the Xiao Ping and Xiao Jian brothers, who had gradually become familiar with Wang Chao, were sharing the firsthand information they had just learned. "There's an important figure at the club who has a good relationship with Old Luo, so they set their sights on the base. They want to invite our top player, Wu Li, to play for them for one season and help them through this dangerous period."

Jiang Shan interjected with interest. "How much are they offering?"

Xiao Ping said, "Apparently, they want to sign a three-month seasonal contract for a total of six hundred thousand. Half goes to the player, half goes to our base. On top of that, there are match bonuses for wins, ranging from twenty thousand to fifty thousand."

Jiang Shan clicked his tongue in admiration, his eyes shining as though he were drooling with envy.

Xiao Ping continued, "But Old Luo refused. He said commercial competitions are a great dye vat, and a good prospect like Wu Li shouldn't be exposed to them too early, or it would damage his foundation."

Wang Chao asked, "What about Wu Li himself?"

"He doesn't want to play in any professional league." Xiao Ping laughed. "When Wu Li joined the team two years ago, he made it clear that his only requirement was to never leave the base all three hundred and sixty-five days of the year and to have table tennis to play every day. Even if he went to the provincial team in the future, he hoped to play promotion and relegation matches, not any friendly matches or sparring competitions, because those would waste his precious training time."

The discussion ended there. To this group of players, the Black Spade Q Table Tennis Club was a completely unfamiliar and irrelevant existence. After a brief round of sighs, everyone went to sleep.

Then, right on schedule, this month's internal round-robin assessment arrived.

This was the first internal round robin for the main squad after the promotion and relegation matches, and every player showed obvious anticipation.

The other players mainly wanted to test the mettle of Wang Chao and Jiang Shan, the two newcomers.

After all, for nearly ten days, Wang Chao had been doing strength and endurance training, while Jiang Shan had been constantly butting heads with Wu Li. Neither of them had seriously played against the others yet.

Wang Chao, meanwhile, was excited because he finally had the chance to see Wu Li's true strength.

He was looking forward to it.

Though it was summer in the south, the early morning still retained a trace of cool freshness. Wang Chao did not get up at five to train extra today. He slept soundly until seven, washed up leisurely, then headed to the court with Jiang Shan.

Besides the familiar coaches, there was also an unfamiliar middle-aged man on the court. He looked quite imposing and held a clipboard in his hand, writing something on it.

Luo Zhihong stood beside the middle-aged man, speaking in a low voice. As he spoke, the man nodded slightly. At a glance, it almost looked as though Luo Zhihong were reporting work to a superior.

Wang Chao vaguely had a guess, but he did not care.

He was actually the same kind of person as Wu Li. He only wanted to play well; nothing else mattered.

His first opponent was Zhou Bo.

Zhou Bo had ranked fourteenth in the last internal round robin and had been forced to play in the promotion and relegation matches. Fortunately, he had faced Tian Ye, the weakest of the three substitutes, and ultimately won 4–2, retaining his place on the main squad.

But against Wang Chao this time, he knew he had no chance at all.

Zhou Bo was not like Gao Ming. His low internal ranking was because he was still young, lacked match experience, and had only joined the team half a year ago, so he still needed extensive tempering.

But he was actually very smart and cautious.

After the last promotion and relegation matches, he had specifically looked into Wang Chao's situation. He watched the match at Mingyue Stadium and also watched the match from the evening sports news a few days ago.

He knew that Old Luo had high hopes for Wang Chao. Otherwise, why would he have specifically assigned Wang Chao a sparring partner?

One had to know that before this, Wu Li had been the only player on the team with a dedicated sparring partner. Everyone else simply practiced casually with one another.

"Brother Chao, show me what you can really do. I want to know the true gap between us," Zhou Bo said to Wang Chao. "Don't go easy on me like you did against Brother Ming last time, okay?"

Wang Chao smiled, revealing gleaming white teeth like a bloodthirsty shark.

He had not heard a request like that in a long time.

"Fine. I'll be serious."

The match was utterly brutal.

The first game ended in under five minutes. Wang Chao scored six points off his serves and four through aggressive attacks. For the final point, Zhou Bo's mentality completely collapsed, and he gave away the point on his own serve.

Yes, the first game ended 11–0. He got completely blanked.

The coach keeping score bared his teeth slightly. His expression remained calm, but inwardly, he was deeply shocked.

After watching the evening sports news some days ago, every coach at the base had acknowledged Wang Chao as a genius. But at the time, they still did not think Wang Chao could compare with Wu Li.

That was because Wang Chao had only displayed unparalleled talent, while Wu Li possessed extremely formidable practical combat ability on top of his talent.

Wu Li lacked neither stamina, courage, nor calculation. Beyond that, his greatest strength was his rigor.

He fought for every point, calculated every point, never wasted even the slightest opportunity, and never revealed even the slightest flaw.

For a table tennis player, this was almost one of the most fundamental and crucial strengths.

Table tennis was too small and too fast. Unlike basketball, football, volleyball, or any other ball sport, it was incredibly difficult to remain steady and to maintain concentration throughout an entire match. It could be said that among all ball sports, table tennis was almost the one in which athletes' form fluctuated the most.

There was no second place!

Even Sun Tianlong, the World number one and China's top table tennis player, respectfully called the Dragon Team by countless national-team players, had suddenly gone dark in the World Table Tennis Championships final last October. His entire form had gone completely wrong, allowing his opponent to score point after point and ultimately losing a match he had been well positioned to win. He handed over the gold medal and sent the entire world table tennis scene into upheaval, with the International Table Tennis Federation crying out: Europe has risen!

World number one versus World number one hundred—you would never dare say that the world number one would definitely win.

But Brazil's football team versus China's football team? Brazil would definitely win.

That was the uncertainty of Ping Pong World.

Wu Li, however, was remarkably stable.

He was like a machine that never made mistakes. During regular practice, what he did most often was beat his sparring partner to a shutout, make him cry, make him collapse, make him go complain to his parents, then switch to another sparring partner and repeat the process.

"I have no doubt that Wang Chao's raw strength will surpass Wu Li's in the future. But I do not think Wang Chao can beat Wu Li in an actual match."

That was something head coach Luo Zhihong had said during a meeting that night.

Every coach deeply agreed.

Until today, when the coach responsible for keeping score saw the match before him.