Two Serves

Han Feng looked grave. He stood at the table without moving for a long while, and only when the livestream viewers watching began to urge him on did he cautiously lower himself into a squat, spreading his legs apart.

It was a stance he had never used in his usual games, but this time, he felt it was necessary.

As for why...

Probably because Wang Chao had used that very stance to smack two shots past him not long ago, making him understand the value of proper form.

Wang Chao found it somewhat amusing, yet also somewhat touching.

He could tell that Han Feng was trying very hard to win now.

But he knew that no matter how much lower Han Feng squatted, it would be useless. The gap in skill was not something attitude could bridge, and there was no such thing as some sudden eruption of inner cosmic power in this world.

So there was only one solution...

...Sigh. Wang Chao silently sighed, walked over, and patted his companion, who still did not dare serve. "Let me do it."

Han Feng had not even noticed Wang Chao approaching, showing just how focused he had been. Hearing him now, he turned in surprise. "You? Get down already. Don't embarrass yourself. You're not even as good as I am."

But Wang Chao refused to back down. He forcibly took the paddle from Han Feng's hand. "Let me give it a try first. You're the strongest among us. How could you step in so easily?"

Han Feng blinked rapidly, an unconscious habit whenever he was thinking desperately. He studied Wang Chao's expression closely, trying to figure out what his companion was up to.

Unfortunately, Wang Chao's gaze was clear and calm, revealing nothing.

"Fine." Han Feng withdrew resentfully. "Then I... I'll go think carefully about how to deal with him. You brat, don't lose too quickly."

Wang Chao smiled at him. When he turned back, his expression became stern. He pinched the paddle between his right thumb and forefinger and swung it once. It still felt strangely awkward, but he had no intention of changing his grip, because that was how the original owner of this body held a paddle.

He lowered into a stance far more standard than Han Feng's earlier one. Resting the ball on his left hand, he slightly raised his lowered eyes and looked across the table. "Ready?"

Han Feng clicked his tongue from the sidelines. He kept feeling that Chaozi seemed rather strange today.

Across the table, Long Tao did not answer. He merely made a provocative empty-handed feint, as if stepping around for a forehand attack.

The meaning was obvious: Go ahead and serve. Whatever you send over, I'll smash it dead in one shot.

He had no idea that the young body before him housed the soul of a world-class table tennis coach.

And what seemed like a farcical point in this tiny club today was, in truth, the first serve that soul had made in this world.

Wang Chao served. It looked utterly ordinary.

The ball bounced once on the table and shot forward at tremendous speed. In an instant, it had reached his opponent's chest, landing near the edge of the far side of the table. It seemed that if it went even half an inch farther, it would fly straight off the table—a suicidal serve.

That was right. It was the very Sneak Long Serve Han Feng had used against Wang Chao not long ago.

Only, this ball was faster, spun harder, and Wang Chao's motion was better disguised. It seemed to be nothing more than a basic backspin serve, yet it turned out to be a fast, sharp, long topspin serve.

It was as swift as a galloping horse, which was why this kind of ball was also called a Bullet Serve.

By the time Long Tao reacted, the ball was practically crashing into his chest.

Because of the hot weather, he was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and shorts.

So many people saw the muscles in Long Tao's thigh tighten in an instant. He tried with all his might to sidestep the ball, then take a step back and counterdrive it.

But in reality, he did not manage to make any movement at all before the ball went pfft against his chest and lightly dropped to the floor.

A loud uproar broke out in the club.

"Nice!"

"What a ball!"

"That serve had some quality!"

"Haha, a point straight off the serve!"

"A pro got served!"

When amateur players faced professional players, what did spectators most like to see?

A professional showing off all kinds of flashy skills was certainly entertaining, but if an amateur suddenly beat up a professional player, that was what was truly fun to watch!

So the uproar this time was louder than at any point before.

Long Tao's face instantly turned red.

"That doesn't count!" he shouted. "That was a sneak attack!"

"Ooh~~~~"

"Whoa~~~~"

"A pro player can't take a loss..."

The spectators began laughing and jeering. They were only having fun and meant no harm, but Long Tao's face reddened further nonetheless. He tossed the ball back to Wang Chao. "Again."

Wang Chao said nothing. He placed the ball on his left palm again, considered it briefly, then suddenly looked up and tossed it straight into the air.

The ball rose a full six or seven feet!

"Wow!" A collective gasp went through the club.

Although High-Toss Serves were often seen in official matches, they were genuinely extremely rare among amateur players.

After all, this serve itself was very difficult. Without dedicated practice, it would be a suicidal serve most of the time.

But it had to be admitted that compared with a standard serve tossed barely above the required sixteen centimeters, the higher the ball was tossed, the greater the combined frictional force when it was struck, and the more violent its spin could become.

That was why many top professionals on the international stage regarded the High-Toss Serve as a weapon for turning the tide when backed into a corner.

Wang Chao's High-Toss Serve motion was textbook. The ball rose almost vertically, then fell. When it dropped below head height, his arm and wrist exerted force simultaneously, giving a light flick toward the front left.

The ball barely touched the paddle and almost horizontally floated forward.

Long Tao immediately made his judgment. This ball has heavy spin. I can't loop it, and I can't attack it. I can only push it short, stabilize the first return...

He was only a reserve player himself. Faced with such a low, flat High-Toss Serve with such heavy backspin, he had no confidence in looping it directly over.

But he was not worried.

Because he firmly believed his fundamentals were better than his opponent's. As long as he could rally steadily for one or two shots and enter an exchange, victory would be certain.

As he thought, his paddle had already met the ball. His wrist instinctively lifted slightly, the most standard way to keep a return from going into the net against a heavy backspin serve.

Then his heart suddenly skipped a beat.

Something felt wrong.

This ball... why doesn't it spin?

A ball that had no spin to begin with, lifted by Long Tao's wrist like that, flew over the net, over the table, and landed on the floor across from him.

His return... went out!

"Wow!"

"He got served again!"

"That kid's amazing!"

The uproar in the club was practically deafening.

Long Tao stood beside the table, his face flushed crimson, saying nothing.

He had nothing to say, because it was obvious that he had just been tricked by that damned high school student!

That High-Toss Serve had not had even a trace of spin!

But...

But...

He was clearly just a high school student, so why did he know how to use a psychological trick as advanced as Spin-or-No-Spin when serving?

And that kid had not hidden anything at all when he served. I could see every one of his movements clearly, so why couldn't I tell that the spin was an illusion?

Long Tao began to feel uneasy and instinctively turned to glance at Tian Zhengguang.

That was right. Brother Tian had been the one who encouraged him to humiliate these high school students. Brother Tian had even said that if he did a good job, he would treat him to a meal tomorrow.

But now, what was he supposed to do?