Borrowing Your Paddle

He couldn't help glancing toward where He Jingping was.

It wasn't a provocation, but rather the mindset of a dream-chasing youth seeking his idol's approval.

But at that moment, Wang Chao made the internationally recognized gesture for a timeout.

Wu Li was somewhat confused.

The game had just ended; this wasn't an interval between games. They could rest anyway, so had Wang Chao called a timeout by mistake?

He had not made a mistake.

Wang Chao placed his paddle on the floor outside the court and looked at Luo Zhihong. "Coach Luo, I'd like to change paddles."

Then he turned to Jiang Shan. "Can I borrow your paddle?"

Jiang Shan froze.

"Hurry up, it's not like I'm not giving it back," Wang Chao urged with a smile.

Jiang Shan blinked, completely bewildered.

"No, bro, what are you doing?" Afraid Wang Chao had been knocked silly, Jiang Shan reminded him quietly, "Don't you have a custom paddle? Mine is a shakehand paddle, a shakehand paddle! It doesn't suit you!"

Wang Chao nodded. "That's exactly what I need—a shakehand paddle."

Jiang Long scolded from the side, "Focus on the match. Stop messing around."

Wang Chao merely glanced at him without saying anything, but He Jingping suddenly shouted, "Let him change!"

Luo Zhihong was stunned. He was standing right beside He Jingping, so he heard it more clearly: there was an extremely faint tremor in He Jingping's voice, as if he were somewhat excited.

Wang Chao got Jiang Shan's spare paddle as he wished.

It was a shakehand paddle.

He placed the paddle in his right hand, gripped it, and swung it a few times. Then he put it in his left hand, clenched his grip, swung it a few more times, and did not switch back.

"Switch back already. What are you doing? Take the match seriously," Luo Zhihong dutifully reminded him.

But Wang Chao shook his head. His left hand held the shakehand paddle's handle steadily, while his right hand picked up the ball and placed it on his palm. He turned slightly sideways and assumed the standard pre-serve stance.

By then, everyone knew Wang Chao wasn't joking around.

He had actually switched directly from a right-handed penhold grip to a left-handed shakehand grip.

Switching hands and switching paddles?

What was he trying to pull?

Only Wang Chao's personal sparring partner, Li Shaoqin, suddenly shuddered, disbelief appearing in his eyes.

No one had ever seen Wang Chao play left-handed shakehand—but he had!

During the past ten-plus days of inhumane sparring, he had occasionally discovered, during extra practice at five in the morning, that Wang Chao had silently switched to holding his paddle shakehanded with his left hand.

But Wang Chao's custom paddle was a penhold paddle with a very short handle, so holding it shakehanded looked like nothing more than fooling around. Li Shaoqin hadn't taken it seriously, assuming Wang Chao was just finding some amusement after getting tired of training.

He vaguely remembered that Wang Chao's success rate when attacking with a shakehand backhand was fairly good, but that meant nothing. After all, as a "human ball machine," he had been serving with emotions, and the balls he sent out hadn't been difficult in the first place.

Even he himself could produce roughly the same results if he switched hands.

But now, he suddenly understood!

That bastard Wang Chao had actually been this devious!

He had secretly practiced with his left hand while everyone else was still asleep!

He had planned this all along!

He was clearly trying to ambush Wu Li!

Wang Chao glanced toward the sidelines, sensing intense resentment coming from somewhere.

He saw Li Shaoqin's face, as though he were severely constipated.

"I haven't bullied him lately, have I?" Wang Chao thought briefly, then dismissed it and focused on the present.

The noise around the table fell unnaturally silent. Everyone held their breath, waiting for Wang Chao's first showing after this bizarre paddle change.

Would it be a farce, or a miracle?

"Clearly a farce. The kid's under too much pressure; he's been pushed too far." Luo Zhihong shook his head slightly, without the slightest expectation.

Reality wasn't a novel. There wasn't that much melodrama. He didn't object to players switching hands or paddles in practice, but they had to understand one principle: a boxer never lets his fists grow idle, and a singer never lets his voice go silent.

Skip practice for one day, and your skills begin to deteriorate. Skip it for a month, and a professional becomes an amateur.

There was no such thing as someone having a stronger backhand than forehand, then keeping that backhand hidden, neither using nor practicing it, only to bring it out during a match and sweep through opponents by surprise.

That wasn't scientific.

Because professional athletes relied on muscle memory and conditioned reflexes.

If you didn't practice, your muscle memory would gradually fade.

Only the hand trained every day could develop deeply ingrained conditioned reflexes, allowing your movements to keep up with your thoughts during a match.

This world had to be materialistic!

It absolutely could not be idealistic!

Wang Chao served.

A simple short backspin serve.

But no one was focused on what kind of serve he had made. They were watching whether his serving posture was standard and whether the quality of his serve was acceptable.

It was very standard, and very good.

Though he had changed hands and paddles, Wang Chao's movements were relaxed and fluid, as though he had been born a left-handed shakehand player. There wasn't the slightest hint of awkwardness.

Wu Li remained as steady as a machine. He didn't care whether Wang Chao was right-handed or left-handed. The only thing he had just done was adjust his perception, changing "Wang Chao holds the paddle in his right hand" to "Wang Chao holds the paddle in his left hand."

The significance was that when Wang Chao served with the same motion, the direction of the ball's spin was the opposite of the first game.

Many people felt uncomfortable the first time they faced a left-hander, but Wu Li would not. He could easily adjust to the directional change.

So he stepped forward steadily and pushed the ball back.

It was an excellent return—low and short, with a slight backspin, barely clearing the net. Almost no one would rush to attack a ball like this, because it was too difficult and too likely to result in a mistake.

At the very least, whenever Wang Chao encountered such balls in the first game, he had chosen to keep them short.

But this time, Wang Chao stepped forward, shifted his body to the left, turned his wrist, met the ball out in front, and then violently pulled his paddle upward!

The pull was tremendously powerful. Jiang Shan's paddle had a tacky rubber surface, generating strong friction, and its bounce was far greater than Wang Chao's own paddle. With that pull, the ball shot like a meteor, tracing a steep arc straight toward Wu Li.

It was a twist.

It was not an ordinary twist.

"Overlord Twist!" Jiang Shan cried out from the sidelines.

Jiang Shan himself had been diligently practicing the Overlord Twist, but he had always felt his power-generation posture was still lacking, and that he could not fully unleash his strength.

In his mind, Wu Li was unquestionably the best at twisting balls in the base.

Yet when he saw Wang Chao's twist, it felt both exhilarating and beautiful. The posture was so elegant, the arc of the ball so exquisite, that it was not inferior to Wu Li's at all.

Wu Li had not anticipated it in the slightest, but he still kept up. He forced his feet to move, forced out his power, and looped the ball back.

Wang Chao did not attack desperately or keep changing lines as he had in the first game.

The moment he picked up the left-handed shakehand paddle, his entire aura subtly changed from the first game.

Like a peerless swordsman finally wielding a weapon that truly suited him.

He retreated half a step and swung his arm. With a smack, he blasted a forehand drive—not a loop, just a hard hit. The ball carried no spin, but it was even faster as it slammed onto the other side of the table.

He didn't care whether the rubber was tacky, whether he should loop, or whether he needed friction. He could hit however he wanted, because he had everything under control.

He felt this was the moment for a fast ball, so he struck one.

It moved as naturally as an extension of his arm, with effortless command.

Wu Li was already beginning to feel that something was wrong.

Although Jiang Shan's paddle actually emphasized friction more, Wang Chao, after switching to shakehand, seemed to have been liberated from all those forced forehand loops. That shot just now had seemed casually effortless, yet it had been faster than any ball before it.

Wu Li retreated sharply by two steps, spread his legs, and nearly squatted his entire body below table level, assuming a deeply lowered, leaning-back horse stance. Yet even with his body twisted into that position, he did not lose his balance and forcibly saved the ball.

Wang Chao flipped his arm again and drove the ball back once more.

This time, however, it became a standard forehand loop, though the angle was somewhat off. It carried a faint sidespin-topspin combination, drifting slightly through the air with an unpredictable trajectory.

Wu Li rose from his crouch, already feeling that his calf muscles were nearing their limit. But he had always been accustomed to giving everything he had. He lunged to one side, and while airborne, he fiercely drove the ball back despite risking total loss of balance.

Then Wang Chao stepped forward, positioned his paddle in front of the net in advance, and returned a delicate ultra-short ball, scoring with ease.

1:0. This was Wang Chao's first time taking the lead.

"Wow!" The shouts around the table made everyone's ears ring.

It was a simple point, yet it represented an unbelievable fact.

Wang Chao's left-handed shakehand grip was strong!

Extremely strong!

Those few shots just now had varied in length, some loops and some drives, some to the left and some to the right. The final ultra-short ball had displayed an exceptionally delicate touch for absorbing power. Though it had only been three lightning-fast exchanges, it showed a finesse rarely found in most shakehand players.

It was far too free and natural.

It gave people the sensation of seamless, effortless fluidity.

Wu Li retrieved the ball, tossed it to Wang Chao, and gritted out, "Again."