Damn it, I'd still acted on impulse!
Why couldn't I stop myself from being so cringe too?
That was social death, social death...
Sure enough, men were boys until the day they died...
As he left the cafeteria and felt countless excited, expectant gazes behind him, Wang Chao noticeably quickened his pace, clearly intending to make a swift escape after suffering a bout of social death.
Jiang Shan, however, was thrilled. To him, the exchange between Wu Li and Wang Chao just now had been absolutely badass!
Wasn't that exactly the kind of classic line from a hot-blooded anime?
Didn't it have the feel of a Decisive Battle at the Summit of Zijin?
This was exactly the scene every little kid dreamed of!
But why hadn't they said a few more lines?
Why had they run off the moment they finished talking?
It had clearly been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity...
By now, countless melodramatic lines had already flashed through the kid's mind.
"My paddle measures 4.68 inches long, 4.5 inches wide, and weighs 175 grams. It is backed with century-old ebony, lined with Falcon A36 sponge, with long pips on the forehand and inverted rubber on the backhand, both specially made by Hongshuangli. Its grip is exceptionally strong and its bounce tremendous. You'd best be careful, sir!"
"Heh. In all of table tennis, no technique is unbreakable; only strength is invincible. Let your tricks change a thousand times—I'll smash through them all with one explosive loop."
"I have been on the team for more than two years, while you have only just arrived. In that case, I shall grant you four serves first."
"My serves always score. There is no need for that."
"There is every need."
"No need."
"Yes, yes, there is."
"No, no, there isn't."
"Are you fucking going to play or not?"
"In that case, please... please make your move. Please show no mercy."
All right, he'd gotten distracted...
In reality, Jiang Shan was very enthusiastic—the sort of person who was more anxious than the parties involved. Along the way, he kept asking, "Those few lines you said just now were secretly recorded. They'll definitely spread throughout the base tomorrow."
Wang Chao merely smiled without answering.
Since he had dared to say it, he naturally had confidence in winning.
There were certain trump cards he had originally planned to hide a while longer, but since the words were already out, there was no harm in displaying them openly.
Clearly, though, no one else saw it that way.
The moment Wang Chao returned to the dorm, Xiao Ping and Xiao Jian immediately came over to visit. The brothers wore excited, mysterious expressions as they asked, "Brother Chao, are you going to unleash some ultimate move tomorrow?"
"Huh?" Wang Chao was stunned.
"Quit pretending. How could you possibly beat Wu Li without an ultimate move?" This came from another group that had just entered, led by Li Shaoqin and accompanied by several bottom-ranked rookies, including Zhou Bo.
Before Wang Chao could speak, a third wave pushed open the door. This time, it was several skilled players led by Liu Heng. "Come on, Wang Chao, tell us how you're going to play tomorrow. Don't worry, we're tight-lipped. We absolutely won't leak it."
Even Jiang Shan was itching with curiosity. "Brother Chao, stop keeping us in suspense. I'll shut the door, so hurry up and tell us. Is there anything you need to prepare? We can all help!"
But before he had even shut the door halfway, several more people squeezed in, shouting, "Wait, wait! What's the rush? Let us get in before you close the door!"
The tiny two-person dorm room was packed full. More than half the main lineup had gathered there, all of them excited as if it were New Year's.
"Brother Chao, listen to me. When you play Wu Li, you need to target the small triangle on his backhand side."
"Wang Chao, I'll tell you a secret: Wu Li's backhand isn't as good as his forehand."
"Bullshit! Wu Li's backhand is awesome. It's not like I've never played him."
"Tomorrow, don't lose too badly. I heard the women's team next door is planning to come watch the match."
"Brother Chao, let me tell you, you can lose the match, but your posture has to look cool. There's a girl on the women's team who's really pretty."
Everyone talked at once, spittle flying everywhere. It took a long while before Wang Chao could finally get a word in. "You all think so little of me? Don't forget, even when I was exhausted last time, I still took a game 11–8."
Everyone laughed, and the dorm filled with cheerful air.
"Brother Chao, you're so funny."
"Don't forget, the overall score last time was 4–0."
"You don't really think you can beat that freak, do you?"
Finally, Liu Heng stepped forward to offer a technical summary. "Wang Chao, your strength isn't enough."
"We all know your placement is precise, your anticipation is strong, and your feints are excellent. But what use is that?"
"You don't have enough power to break through Wu Li!"
"Those predictions and calculations of yours can indeed fool Wu Li a few times. We saw that last time."
"But Wu Li still neutralized the vast majority of your tricks."
"He really is that fast. Even if he doesn't predict your placement, he can still force the ball back. He can run without limit—he wouldn't get tired even if he ran all day. But how long can you keep attacking?"
He gave the final conclusion on everyone's behalf. "Defense can't beat Wu Li. Only offense can beat Wu Li. Your attacks are too soft. Even if you had enough stamina, you'd still be certain to lose."
"Without a doubt!"
The youths were all professional players, and none of them lacked discernment. After only half a month together, they had already seen through Wang Chao's game completely. Once they had finished joking around and venting their excess energy, they swiftly changed the subject. They brought over a laptop with a massive 21-inch screen from the dorm next door, opened the livestream page on the Silver Ball Dance website, and prepared to watch together.
This counted as one of the team members' rare group activities outside of training.
The 27th Table Tennis World Cup, currently being held in Germany, was being broadcast live in full. Up to this point, China's national team had achieved an extraordinarily dominant record, prompting table tennis circles around the world to once again cry out: Chinese table tennis was unbeatable!
All four women's semifinal spots had been claimed by China's national team, locking up the gold, silver, and bronze medals in advance.
Three of the four Men's Singles semifinalists were also Chinese players: Sun Tianlong, Bai Feng, and Lin Li. All three were ranked in the world's top ten, with Sun Tianlong sitting at number one.
The sole outsider in the semifinals was the host nation Germany's player, Hans Bayer. Bayer was a famed evergreen of the table tennis world and was known as Europe's strongest player. Yet looking at the semifinal lineup, Chinese viewers felt no concern whatsoever. They had long considered the most valuable Men's Singles gold medal to be securely in their own pocket.
Bayer would surely bow at the feet of Chinese table tennis!
This was not blind confidence. There was history behind it.
Although Bayer was strong, Sun Tianlong was practically his fated nemesis. According to official statistics, Bayer and Sun Tianlong had faced each other twenty-seven times in total. Bayer had won only once, and that had been an ancient tale from eight years ago. Back then, Sun Tianlong was not yet Dragon Team, had not won a single World Champion title, and had not evolved into the invincible force he was today.
In fact, Sun Tianlong had achieved a brutal twenty-six-match winning streak against Bayer over the past seven years.
It was like a father beating his son!
The semifinal matchups had been set: Bayer versus Bai Feng, and Lin Li versus Sun Tianlong.
If Bayer wanted to face Sun Tianlong, he first had to defeat Bai Feng.
But how could the modern standard-bearer of the Penhold Backhand Loop, the high-spirited "World's Number One Penholder" Bai Feng, possibly be easy to deal with?
As for the other match, there was not much suspense. Lin Li and Sun Tianlong were both disciples of the Qin School. In this clash between fellow disciples, Sun Tianlong held an absolute advantage in their past record and had almost no chance of losing.
Thus, there was not much suspense in either of today's semifinals. The players' main purpose in watching was not to cheer anyone on, but to learn something from the national team players.
Yet after a long hour, the noisy dorm room fell silent.
Shock and disbelief filled the young players' faces.
They had watched Lin Li battle through seven games in this internal school clash before finally slaying his senior brother Sun Tianlong and advancing proudly into the final.
Lin Li had certainly not played poorly, but everyone could see that he had not played well enough to that extent.
It was not that he had improved; Sun Tianlong had simply performed abnormally.
Following his bizarre "power outage" at last October's World Table Tennis Championships, Sun Tianlong suffered another bizarre "power outage." Despite leading by three games, he allowed Lin Li to win four straight. The final game ended in an outrageous 11–1 score, with him seemingly unable to mount any resistance at all.
"What happened to Dragon Team?"
"Why did Dragon Team lose power again?"
"Did Dragon Team's injury flare up?"
"I heard Dragon Team got an injection before the match."
"Was Dragon Team deliberately throwing the match?"
"Is Dragon Team planning to retire?"
"Dragon Team, you can't do this! I'm still waiting for you to win the Double Grand Slam!"
Countless bullet comments, filled with startling exclamation marks and question marks, flooded densely across the screen, nearly blocking all the footage and forcing Liu Heng to turn them off again.
After a long while, someone finally said softly, "It's fine. The gold medal is still ours... Bai Feng won't lose to Uncle Bai, right?"
Thanks to Du San Shui De, Shudong23333, CETLOUY, and Shiyun a for their monthly votes.
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