The Battle Begins

Uncle Bai was Bayer. He was thirty-four this year and had been playing for over a decade. He had faced three generations of China Table Tennis national players, carrying both a chest full of honors and a body full of injuries. He was a man worthy of great respect, affectionately known to China Table Tennis fans as "Uncle Bai."

But against twenty-four-year-old Bai Feng, who was in his prime, he was clearly showing every sign of fatigue. Judging from his record over the past year, he had no chance at all.

"Not a big problem." Jiang Shan grinned. "It's just Uncle Bai. He can't stir up much trouble. How about we open a betting pool? I'm betting on Bai Feng to take the championship."

Everyone was quickly roused, placing their bets one after another. Some bet on Bai Feng, others on Lin Li. Once Jiang Shan had recorded everyone's stakes, the next semifinal officially began.

Another long hour passed.

Another grueling seven-game battle.

When the match ended and the dust settled, the dormitory fell into an even more suffocating silence than before.

Bai Feng had lost...

The still-formidable Uncle Bai had played almost flawlessly in this match.

He could no longer rely on strength and speed to compete with the younger players, but through experience, technique, and calculation, he patiently ground his opponent down, point by point, chasing relentlessly. He kept the score locked tight throughout and ultimately fought Bai Feng to an astonishing 19:17 in the deciding game. A net-edge ball and a serve-and-attack gave him the final victory.

The determination and resilience he showed in this match were somewhat similar to Wang Chao's match against Wu Li a few days earlier.

After winning, Bayer was nearly exhausted. He took off his jersey and tossed it into the stands, prompting a frantic scramble.

Then he raised both arms and slowly jogged around the court, accepting wave after wave of cheers from the German spectators.

Everyone at the venue was watching Uncle Bai, Europe's greatest player of the past decade.

Yet the teenagers in the dormitory were mostly staring at the corner of the screen.

There, Bai Feng sat in his chair with his head deeply lowered, looking like a dying bird.

The final matchup appeared on the screen. It was not the Sun Tianlong versus Bai Feng showdown everyone had expected, but Lin Li versus Hans Bayer.

"It's fine. He just played badly."

"Exactly. With so many matches every year, who doesn't lose a few?"

"It's not over yet. Won't everything be fine if Lin Li takes out Uncle Bai tomorrow?"

"Cheer up, cheer up."

The players began comforting one another.

But Wang Chao was unusually quiet.

He was not as optimistic as the others, nor did he think this was merely a case of China Table Tennis players underperforming. On the contrary, from these two matches, he had already keenly sensed a hidden danger beneath China Table Tennis's overwhelming strength, one that was about to be fully exposed.

He wondered whether this was the reason he had traveled through time.

The next day's match was exceptionally grand.

When the clock struck five in the afternoon, nearly every table in the training base had been vacated. Everyone crowded around the same table, waiting to witness Wang Chao and Wu Li's "match of the century."

Well, technically, it was a "city-level showdown." It was a pun.

Besides the male starters and substitutes, there were also many women's table tennis players on the other side of the court, dressed in shorts or skirts and brimming with youthful energy. The girls chattered away, clearly louder than the boys and even more excited.

But when they pulled out their phones, decorated with colorful dangling charms, intending to record the match, Luo Zhihong sternly stopped them.

Today's match was an internal playoff. It would not be made public, and private recording was forbidden. Only the city team could make an official recording and send a copy to the Hubei Provincial Team.

Its purpose was to prove that Wang Chao was inferior to Wu Li, making the roster Jiang Long had submitted defensible.

After a night of rest, Jiang Long's complexion looked far better than yesterday.

He had also thought it through. Even if they had insisted on finishing the match yesterday, Wang Chao's exhausted condition had been obvious and would not have been enough to convince his father, Jiang Tiansheng.

So postponing it until today was not necessarily a bad thing.

Yesterday, he had specifically asked many city team coaches for their opinions. Everyone believed Wu Li had the better chance of winning, which put him much more at ease.

Except...

Jiang Long secretly glanced toward a spot nearby, where Cook was standing.

Cook had not even changed clothes. He had come straight from the cafeteria to watch this match, which showed how seriously he took it. That made Jiang Long somewhat uneasy.

He Jingping's reputation was known to everyone. In Northern Hubei Province, he was practically a giant crocodile lurking in deep waters. This giant crocodile had not personally attended a single match in the past two years, yet he had suddenly come today. He obviously was not here for Wu Li, but for Wang Chao.

Jiang Long had also heard that Cook and Wang Chao had eaten together in the cafeteria yesterday...

He had no choice but to suspect that Wang Chao had already made a connection with He Jingping.

If that was true, suppressing Wang Chao could lead to enormous trouble.

More importantly, it meant He Jingping thought highly of Wang Chao!

Even if everyone present favored Wu Li, as long as He Jingping alone favored Wang Chao, Wang Chao's chances of winning had to be greater.

That was the authority and accuracy of a national-level coach.

The match began.

The two sides tossed a coin. Wu Li guessed correctly and immediately chose to serve.

His movements were clearly slower than in any previous match. Normally, he would let the ball bounce once on the table before serving, but for the first ball today, he let it bounce three times.

That meant Wu Li was thinking.

Wu Li opened with a Sneak Long Serve.

That was also extremely rare.

Wu Li normally never did something so opportunistic.

But Wang Chao seemed to have anticipated it. The instant Wu Li's ball touched the table, before it had even bounced out, Wang Chao had already stepped around. In the blink of an eye, the short ball came flying over, and he was already in position. He swung immediately, ripping a heavy, fast topspin.

A beautiful aggressive return, driven straight at Wu Li's backhand baseline!

Strictly speaking, this attack had changed direction, and its quality was exceptionally high. Without advance anticipation, it would have been impossible to hit such a shot.

But Wu Li once again displayed his monstrous physical gifts.

He had clearly miscalculated, yet he adjusted instantly. His footwork was nearly perfect, and with a low roar, he viciously twisted his backhand.

The twist carried tremendous power. It was fully worthy of being called an Overlord Twist.

But Wang Chao had anticipated that twist as well.

Wang Chao moved ahead of time again and waited where the ball was coming. Then, without another word, he ripped it straight back.

Another change of direction!

Yet Wu Li still used his absurdly fast footwork to get into position, twisting his backhand again.

"Wow!"

At that moment, many people cried out in amazement.

The very first point had immediately turned into a fierce rally between forehand attacks and backhand twists.

Everyone could see the respective strengths and weaknesses of Wang Chao and Wu Li.

Nearly every one of Wang Chao's shots changed direction. The precision of his placement and the finesse of his control had reached an extreme.

Wu Li did not possess such detailed control. When he twisted with his backhand, he could not change direction, so every return was perfectly anticipated by Wang Chao.

But Wu Li's strength lay in his ability to move after the ball and still arrive first, always reaching the correct position faster than the ball itself. So even though his judgment was inferior to Wang Chao's, it did not stop him from maintaining an evenly matched rally.

In the blink of an eye, the first point had already gone past fifteen exchanges.

For table tennis, a sport that pursued speed and brevity to an extreme, fifteen exchanges already counted as an extraordinarily long rally.

Not until the sixteenth shot did Wang Chao finally send the ball out.

It was not actually a mistake in execution. He had been overly focused on changing direction, trying to send the ball to the angle that would make Wu Li most uncomfortable. But his placement control was slightly off, and the ball landed a little deeper than he had expected, flying straight off the table.

Wu Li led 1:0.

Four updates tomorrow, and the match will be finished. Everyone, guess what Wang Chao's trump card is? There have actually been plenty of hints earlier. Also, thanks to "Ye Yuan," "Ning Ge," "A Withered Tree Before Which Ten Thousand Trees Bloom in Spring," "Book Friend 150619123736160," "hikaru," and "A Gentle Breeze Comes Naturally" for the monthly votes.