Body Control

They didn't know that Wang Chao was actually very calm.

"His backhand is skilled, powerful, and smart. He knows to target my backhand side."

Wang Chao silently mused, Let's try something else.

Wang Chao served again, this time with a short forehand backspin. Tian Zhengguang did not rush to attack. He patiently returned it short over the net, and Wang Chao did not hurry either, returning it short again. The two dragged things out for three exchanges before Tian Zhengguang attacked first with a flick from inside the table, again landing it on Wang Chao's left-hand side. Wang Chao hurriedly blocked it back, but after several more exchanges, he lost another point.

Yan Feng called out loudly, "2:0. Tian Zhengguang to serve."

"See? The moment a professional gets serious, the gap shows," the old man said smugly. "Your classmate is actually pretty good, but his opponent keeps targeting his backhand. And him? All these fancy tricks—he just sneaked in a long serve to the backhand, and now he's using a short forehand serve. That won't do. You have to find the other guy's weakness and hammer it relentlessly."

Liu Yue looked worried. "Then what's his weakness?"

The old man stroked his beard and smiled without answering.

Wang Chao, however, gained further insight. His short game isn't refined enough, and he puts too much emphasis on attack quality. It worked this time, but his overall success rate probably isn't high. This guy... he leans more toward an all-or-nothing attacking style. It does suit the personality he's shown.

As a former national team coach, Wang Chao had always believed that a player's style should align with their personality. Only then would the way they played be reasonable. In his previous life, when he built tactical systems for his disciples, he had always done exactly that.

But Tian Zhengguang, whom he faced now, was merely a substitute on a city team. His technical patterns had not even fully taken shape, making him harder to judge. Wang Chao had to test and observe him personally before he could determine exactly what kind of player Tian Zhengguang was.

Tian Zhengguang served.

It was unexpectedly the same as Wang Chao's first serve—a sneaky long ball aimed at Wang Chao's left-hand side.

Interesting... Is he trying to teach me a lesson? And he keeps focusing solely on my backhand. Persistent, sure, but a little rigid too. Wang Chao did not receive this ball well. His return popped up high, and Tian Zhengguang immediately smashed it hard. 3:0.

"This is getting worse and worse," Han Feng sighed. "Say, if he loses 11:0 later, do you think Chaozi might do something stupid?"

"Definitely," Liu Yue sighed as well. "He's clearly so good, yet he kept hiding it all this time. He obviously wanted to make a big splash. But instead of soaring, he got pushed back down."

On the table, the score became increasingly unfavorable. From 3:0, it jumped straight to 7:0. Wang Chao was passive throughout and had not scored a single point, causing the cheers from his friends to gradually fade.

Only Wang Chao himself remained calm.

Smack!

Another point. 8:0.

At that moment, Tian Zhengguang gave a heavy snort.

He had been holding back all this time, afraid of being embarrassed, so he had kept quiet. But now, he felt the outcome was settled.

Even Old Tian, the coach over there, looked much better, as though he had finally let out a breath.

"Is that all?"

Tian Zhengguang did not crouch to receive the serve. Instead, he stood at the side of the table, stroking his paddle as he glanced sideways at Wang Chao. "You won a few points because Long Tao slipped up, and now you think you can challenge a professional? Do you even know how huge the gap is between amateurs and professionals?"

Wang Chao was not angry.

He found it rather interesting.

Though this was the body of an eighteen-year-old, the soul within was forty years old. He had witnessed countless changes on the court and seen players with all kinds of personalities. Looking at Tian Zhengguang now, he could almost clearly guess every twist in Tian Zhengguang's thoughts.

He could even roughly guess what Tian Zhengguang would do next.

He straightened up, casually bounced the ball a few times, then looked calmly at Tian Zhengguang. "I'm going to get serious now."

Tian Zhengguang froze for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"You're ridiculous." Tian Zhengguang completely relaxed and laughed loudly. "Just hearing that tells me how childish you are. I couldn't be bothered to say it before, but let me put it plainly now: what future does a penhold grip even have these days? The moment I saw how you held your racket, I knew you had no future! As for beating me, keep dreaming!"

Wang Chao served, an ordinary short backspin serve.

As usual, Tian Zhengguang steadily pushed it back, preparing to compete with Wang Chao in the basics.

But this time, Wang Chao did not continue dragging things out with him. He suddenly leaned forward, flicked his wrist, and unleashed an exceptionally beautiful flick from inside the table. Fast and sharp, it scored directly. 1:8.

"Huh?" Tian Zhengguang was somewhat surprised, but he did not take it seriously and continued waiting attentively for the next ball.

Wang Chao served again, still a short backspin, but the placement was slightly deeper than before.

Tian Zhengguang did not want to give Wang Chao too many opportunities. He attacked first, but Wang Chao blocked it back. He attacked again and was blocked again. He continued attacking and was blocked once more. So he put everything into one hard shot, only for the ball to fly off the table. 2:8.

Next, it was Tian Zhengguang's turn to serve.

Tian Zhengguang thought carefully for a while before finally using a high-toss serve. The ball carried tremendous spin, even seeming to drift slightly as the excessive rotation cut through the air.

But Wang Chao merely stepped to the side and brought his paddle down with a smack, striking it directly without any brushing motion at all. The tiny silver ball flew in a perfectly straight line, at an almost flawless angle. It barely cleared the net, then plunged onto the table and sprang high into the air.

3:8.

Tian Zhengguang finally began to sense something was wrong. He bounced the ball repeatedly on the table seven or eight times before making up his mind not to give Wang Chao any more chances for tricks or sneak attacks.

He served an extremely short backspin ball. The little ball nearly skimmed the net, leaving no opportunity for a direct flick.

Sure enough, Wang Chao could only return it short.

Finally, this is a situation I'm comfortable with. Tian Zhengguang secretly rejoiced. He remembered clearly that two earlier points had unfolded like this, and he had won both of them.

Yet this time, he and Wang Chao pushed and pulled through a full eight exchanges without Tian Zhengguang finding any chance to attack. Instead, on the ninth shot, he became impatient and accidentally popped the ball high. Wang Chao crushed it with a vicious shot.

4:8.

The spectators, who had quieted down, gradually began to stir again.

Some of the more skilled club players vaguely felt that this high school kid seemed to be playing better than he had at the beginning.

Whether it was his stance, the force behind his shots, or the angles he created, everything seemed to be becoming more and more standard.

They merely assumed Wang Chao's form was improving. They did not know that a former table tennis king was gradually becoming familiar with his brand-new body.

During those first eight points, Wang Chao had not only been observing Tian Zhengguang's technical characteristics. He had also been gradually searching for that familiar feeling on the court. He needed his soul and this new body to fit together perfectly, to merge without the slightest separation. He needed to become familiar enough with these legs, arms, and hands, and rediscover the correct muscle memory for the court.

He had more strength than in his previous life.

His senses were sharper than before.

He needed to know exactly how fast a trajectory his eyes could track.

He needed to know whether his ears could hear the wind made by the little ball as it flew toward him.

He needed the paddle in his hand to arrive at the correct position at the correct moment.

Everything needed to be familiarized anew.

He was like a high-level power-leveler, building a new account with perfect starting stats all over again.

This should have been an extremely complicated and lengthy process.

Just as professional table tennis players needed day after day and year after year of grueling training to establish all sorts of standardized technical modules.

Yet Wang Chao had needed only eight points.

He had not truly achieved complete harmony yet, but he was certain that dealing with Tian Zhengguang would be more than easy enough.

From this point onward, he could officially declare that, aside from pure strength, he had already completely crushed Tian Zhengguang in every technical aspect.