One Game Decides the Winner

Long Tao heard the high school student across from him say, "You serve again."

The little ball bounced repeatedly on the table with a "tap, tap, tap" before landing in Long Tao's hand.

In fact, the server was generally considered to have the advantage, so during the casual games earlier, the club players had always served. This was the first time the professional players had gotten to serve.

Long Tao took a breath and tried to steady himself. After thinking it over, he decided to play it safe and serve a standard short backspin ball.

It was a good serve. At least, none of the three watching coaches could find anything wrong with it. Yet the instant the ball cleared the net and rose to its highest point, before it could even start falling, Wang Chao had somehow moved to the side of the table near the net. Without a word, he flicked his paddle upward.

With a sharp "smack," he directly flicked the ball back. It was an exceptionally difficult wide angle to the left, an absolute blind spot for Long Tao, whose body was moving toward the front right after serving.

A gaping opening!

The next instant, the ball slammed heavily into the table and flew away.

The previously boisterous court even fell slightly quiet. The spectators had not expected this at all. After it happened, they had to follow the ping-pong ball's trajectory and look again before they could confirm they were not seeing things.

Someone in the back row let out a strange cry. "My god! He really killed it with one shot!"

Long Tao's face was no longer merely red. It had taken on a faint bluish tint.

How could he not tell that the kid opposite him was giving him a taste of his own medicine?

You smashed my brother just now. Now I'm going to smash you.

But he could no longer muster much will to resist, because he was certain there had been nothing wrong with his serve.

In other words, if he had been facing that serve himself, he definitely would not have been able to launch an attack immediately.

Yet his opponent had not only flicked it directly from inside the table, but also sent it wide to the left. That was a complete and utter gap in skill.

Wang Chao tossed the ball over. "Again."

Long Tao did not catch it, letting the ball bounce on the table until it finally rolled to the floor.

"Come on," Wang Chao said. "What are you dragging your feet for?"

Long Tao's face burned. He gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and said, "I can't beat..."

He never got the final word, "you," out, because a louder voice behind him drowned him out. "I'll do it!"

Tian Zhengguang strode forward, snatched the paddle from Long Tao's hand, and patted him on the shoulder. Then he turned to Wang Chao. His naturally booming voice made the whole venue hum. "Kid, I'll play with you!"

Wang Chao merely smiled and shook his head.

"If you're playing, then we won't just play around."

He raised one finger. "We'll play seriously. One game decides the winner. Do you dare?"

"Fine!"

"Nice!"

"An amateur challenging a professional? Kid, you've got guts!"

"Kid, play well. I'll record the whole thing and upload it to Table Tennis Network tomorrow."

"Go for it, kid! If you win this game, you'll be famous."

The club players, eager for chaos, began egging them on wildly.

Han Feng, Liu Yue, and Hou Xiaojian, meanwhile, were completely dumbfounded.

"Is that really Chao?"

"Since when was Chao this awesome?"

"Could he have been going easy on us all this time, secretly practicing on his own?"

"Bullshit! He started learning with us and couldn't even return a single ball at first. Did you forget?"

"We attend class together every day. Where would he even find time to practice secretly?"

"Then what the hell is going on?"

"You're asking me? Who am I supposed to ask?"

"How about... we go to his house and ask Sister Mei?"

The three friends were utterly confused, while at the edge of the court, a coach who had been quietly watching all along stepped forward and scolded, "Nonsense! Tian Zhengguang, I order you to put down that paddle immediately. We need to return to the base."

Tian Zhengguang refused. Sticking out his neck stubbornly, he said, "Give me five minutes. I'll leave after I beat him."

"Are you trying to violate discipline?" The coach raised his voice. "Look what time it is! You're still playing around? What's the point of a professional player competing with an amateur? Would winning be something to be proud of?"

Tian Zhengguang said nothing, but he stood motionless in front of the table.

The coach grew angry and shouted, "You think you can get away with anything? Long Tao, Jiang Shan, you two go drag him away!"

Fire blazed in Tian Zhengguang's eyes. Suddenly, he shouted, "What the hell are you afraid of? I'll definitely win!"

The coach lost his temper too and stepped forward, intending to grab him himself. But then another coach beside him suddenly spoke. "Old Tian, let him finish."

Old Tian froze for a moment and said anxiously, "No, Old Zhao, you..."

"Old Tian, one game only takes five minutes." Old Zhao smiled, though his gaze behind his glasses was rather cold. "What are you afraid of?"

He looked at the last coach beside him, who had remained silent. "Old Li, what do you think?"

Old Li was a man of few words. He nodded. "Mm. Let him finish."

Old Tian had no choice but to shut his mouth and step back.

Outside the gym, the sun was already setting. Warm golden light streamed in through the windows on every side, casting mottled tree shadows across the floor. The scene was beautiful, while at the table, a match conducted according to international standard rules officially began.

Yan Feng acted as the referee and called the score.

The club players who had been making such a racket earlier all fell quiet now, afraid of affecting the two players' concentration.

Only a few newcomers occasionally whispered questions about what had happened. Once they learned the details, their curious gazes settled on Wang Chao.

Wang Chao served, using a Sneak Long Serve right away. A fast topspin ball landed at Tian Zhengguang's backhand, aiming to catch him off guard for a point.

But Tian Zhengguang was not Long Tao. Holding his paddle in a shakehand grip, he reacted with astonishing speed. His feet did not move as his arm swept upward and back. With a "smack," he counter-smashed the ball directly, his posture exceptionally clean. The ball quickly crossed the net and landed on Wang Chao's left side.

Wang Chao was somewhat rushed. He used a penhold grip, and his backhand was naturally his weakness. Facing this fierce incoming ball, he could only flick his wrist over and block it back with a push.

The return was somewhat forced and still landed on Tian Zhengguang's backhand. Tian Zhengguang only needed to adjust his footing slightly before delivering another counter-smash.

The first point lasted five exchanges under their counter-smashes and blocks. In the end, Tian Zhengguang scored. 1:0.

"This doesn't feel good," Liu Yue said worriedly. "It was Chao's serve this round, but Tian Zhengguang ended up attacking while he could only defend. In the end, he still couldn't hold on."

The other two nodded in agreement, their faces full of concern.

An old man beside them scoffed. "Three idiots... Your friend's long-serve ambush failed, so isn't it normal for him to get counterattacked afterward? If you can't understand the game, keep quiet. Don't disturb this old man watching."

The three rookies immediately became respectful. Hou Xiaojian asked politely, "Then what should he do?"

"Young people are impatient and easily intimidated. The moment they face a professional, they want to rely on tricks. That won't do." The old man shook his head and sighed. "Your friend has skill, but he has never received professional training. I'm afraid his match strategy will put him at a huge disadvantage..."

The three rookies deeply agreed. They nodded, their hearts heavy.