Wu Li did not believe in ghosts, gods, or superstition.
Like Luo Zhihong, he believed only that sports had to be rational, scientific, and logical.
He firmly believed that Wang Chao's left hand could not possibly have as solid a foundation as his forehand. Wang Chao had merely caught him off guard.
Wang Chao served.
He tossed the ball high, but instead of a high-toss backspin serve, he used a rare chopping serve.
Not only was the spin on a chopped serve difficult to judge accurately, but the ball would also curve horizontally, greatly interfering with the opponent's return.
But Wang Chao had no such elaborate intentions when he used the chopping serve. He simply wanted to seize the initiative to attack faster.
Wu Li still found this kind of ball somewhat difficult to handle. Although he returned it, the ball was neither short enough nor low enough, so Wang Chao launched straight into an attack.
First came a forehand topspin loop.
Then a backhand topspin loop.
Then another forehand.
Then another backhand.
Standing half a step away from the table, legs spread and body slightly bent, he looked like a heavy cannon. When the ball came from the left, he looped it; when it came from the right, he twisted it. Attacking from all sides, he fired wildly, his arms swinging above the table. The fluidity of his movements, the ease of his posture, and the flexibility of his wrist turns left everyone beside the court dumbfounded.
Wang Chao seemed to have become a completely different person. Even his style of play had changed.
When he used his penhold forehand, he played with great difficulty and extreme caution. He had to calculate every ball, seek out placements and openings, work hard to feint and deceive, and strive to make