Jiang Long Saves Himself

Jiang Long had not been having an easy time lately.

He had thought he could suppress the matter involving Wang Chao, but he had never expected that Wang Chao had actually been on television before he arrived.

Jiangcheng City was the capital of Northern Hubei Province. Although the city team and provincial team were clearly separate, their bases were ultimately in the same city. Thus, before Jiang Long had even arrived, people from the provincial team had already seen footage of Wang Chao playing on Sports News and remembered him.

As soon as this round-robin ended, someone from the provincial team immediately pulled up the recordings. After watching Wang Chao's match against Wu Li, they promptly reported it to the head coach, Jiang Tiansheng.

That was right. Provincial team head coach Jiang Tiansheng shared Jiang Long's surname. He was Jiang Long's biological father, and he was the one who had gotten Jiang Long, originally nothing more than a high school PE teacher, into the provincial team.

Jiang Tiansheng was a typical old-school man: tough in manner and impartial even toward family. After watching that match and then looking at the recommended slots Jiang Long had submitted, he flew into a rage. He called Jiang Long and cursed him out like a dog, asking the same question over and over: "Why did you choose Jiang Shan instead of Wang Chao?"

What could Jiang Long say?

Could he admit it was because he had forbidden Wang Chao from using the hook turn?

He did not dare.

Recently, the hook turn had gradually sparked a small craze. Many teams were studying the technique, and some coaches had already declared that it was undeniably a new technique, recommending that young players incorporate it into their regular training programs in the future.

Jiang Tiansheng finally delivered an ultimatum. "If you can't give me an explanation, and give the players an explanation, I'll strip you of your coaching position."

Jiang Long had no choice. He simply could not offer an explanation, because he had no leg to stand on.

He just could not understand it. He had handled matters this way for years, so how had he suddenly crashed and burned this time?

To keep his position, he had no choice but to swallow his pride and ask Luo Zhihong for help.

"Restart the round-robin?" Luo Zhihong raised his voice. "What are you trying to do?"

Jiang Long no longer had the imposing air he had possessed when he first arrived. All he wanted now was to preserve the status he had painstakingly accumulated through years of seniority. He explained in a conciliatory tone, "Coach Luo, I admit that I did mishandle Wang Chao's situation. I apologize. I'll accept whatever punishment you see fit, all right? But the old man wants to take away my position now. This is a matter of life and death for me. You have to help me..."

Luo Zhihong was delighted inside, but he still put on a pained expression. After deliberately pondering for a long time, he asked, "How am I supposed to help you?"

He did not like Jiang Long, but he also knew that Jiang Long was Jiang Tiansheng's biological son. Even if Jiang Tiansheng came down hard on him, he would certainly restore him to his old post within a year or two.

So, the relationship that needed maintaining still had to be maintained.

As long as the promotion and relegation structure between the city team and provincial team remained unchanged, he was destined never to shake off Jiang Long, that annoying pest.

So in the end, he agreed to Jiang Long's plea.

"Outside the mandatory regular assessment, we'll add another round-robin. This competition will be conducted in secret. The results won't be released, and no match footage will be submitted. We'll only secretly send one recording to the provincial team."

"The entire process will follow the last one. Make Wang Chao face Wu Li last, and make sure he loses another match."

"It may look a little fake, but as long as Wang Chao loses in the end, I can give the old man a superficial explanation and keep my position."

"Thanks, Coach Luo. I'll definitely repay you someday."

Early the next morning, Luo Zhihong announced the next round-robin. The players were given one day to prepare, and the competition would begin punctually the following day.

None of the players understood it, because every round-robin placed a heavy physical burden on them. There had never been another round scheduled so soon afterward.

Wang Chao was even more frustrated than the others. He had overextended himself last time and only recovered after several days. He had barely resumed training, so why was there another round-robin already?

It was not until he saw Jiang Long appear at the match venue that he vaguely guessed what was happening.

Then he would play.

The day's matches were intense, but there were few surprises. Wang Chao played nine matches that morning. His first opponent was Zhou Bo again, his second was Li Shaoqin again, and his sixth was Xiao Jian again. Everything was exactly the same as the previous round-robin's matchups.

That made him even more certain that Jiang Long was behind it.

But sometimes, the helplessness of little people lay in this: even when you knew you were being set up, you had no way to break the trap.

Wang Chao worked hard to conserve his strength, trying to finish off his opponents as quickly as possible. But even in the theoretically perfect scenario—even if he won every match 4–0 and every game 11–0—he would still have to play 396 points.

And besides, he was not strong enough to do that yet.

Since his body had not fully recovered to begin with, he actually used up even more stamina that morning than he had last time.

At lunch, Cook He Jingping personally brought him a plate of dry-fried beef, fragrant, spicy, and flavorful. Smiling, he said, "Beef gives you strength. Eat more, and try to take down Wu Li this afternoon."

Wang Chao was certain that He Jingping had heard rumors through some channel, but He Jingping clearly did not want to say anything, so Wang Chao could only refrain from asking. He turned all his pent-up resentment into appetite, cleaned the plate of beef, and grabbed several bananas on his way out.

The afternoon matches were even fiercer, and Wang Chao's battles grew increasingly difficult. He played five matches over three hours, and by the time he faced Liu Heng, he was completely spent. He failed to win 4–0 and instead, just like last time, ended the match at 4–2.

It was 5:17 in the afternoon.

All the other players had finished their matches. As if everything had been arranged beforehand, every player and coach gathered around to watch Wang Chao versus Wu Li once again.

Li Shaoqin and Jiang Shan had both improved their rankings this time, but clearly, no one cared about that.

Jiang Long stood among the coaches, his gaze solemn and his mood uneasy, yet unable to conceal that faint thread of delight.

He had watched Wang Chao's matches throughout the entire day and was certain that Wang Chao was now physically exhausted.

Unless something unexpected happened, he probably would not lose his coaching title.

Wang Chao ate a banana and took two sips of water. A wet towel that could have been wrung dry hung over his shoulders as he slowly walked to the table and looked at the scorekeeper.

He was waiting to call the coin toss and decide who would serve first.

But no one could have expected Wu Li to speak at that moment.

He said, "Wait."

The scorekeeper looked at him.

"I'm not feeling well today. I can't play. Can I concede?" Wu Li asked.

The scorekeeper's eyes widened, utterly unable to believe what he had heard.

Had Wu Li really said that?

Everyone at this base knew that Wu Li never gave up. Even if he truly could not win, he would still fight with everything he had until the final point.

The year before last, the International Table Tennis Federation World Tour China Open had been held in Jiangcheng City. Many national players had gathered in Jiangcheng, and because He Jingping worked here as a cook, the national team's five main players had come to visit the base together. Wu Li had sought their guidance then, hoping to play each of them once.

The five main players readily agreed.

Wu Li lost horribly. All five matches ended 4–0, and he failed to score more than five points in a single game. His match against Sun Tianlong was especially brutal: the four game scores were all 11–1.

The only reason they were not 11–0 was that Dragon Team was kind-hearted and had always upheld the Chinese national table tennis tradition: never hand out a bagel.

That day, even the spectators watching had nearly broken down. Luo Zhihong stopped the matches several times and asked Wu Li whether he wanted to continue, afraid that those national team monsters would give one of his base's promising talents a psychological scar.

Only Wu Li himself seemed completely unaffected after finishing. He ate and drank as usual, and the next day, he could still make his practice partners cry. Neither his form nor his mentality had been affected in the slightest.

It was after that occasion that everyone truly acknowledged Wu Li's strength.

He was not like a machine. He was simply a machine. Once he stepped up to the table, he had no human emotions at all.

But what was going on today?

Wu Li had taken the initiative to concede?

The referee said nothing, but an angry voice rang out from the sidelines. "I won't allow you to concede!"

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