Time passed slowly.
The clock on the wall moved from 7:40 in the morning to 8:00, then 9:00, 10:00, and 11:00.
By noon, the other students and teachers had all gone to eat, but the two of them were still playing one-on-one.
As their stamina waned, their movements slowed, and each possession now took longer than before.
Meanwhile, the score gap kept growing.
220–0. 240–0.
Wang Yi seemed to be controlling the score on purpose.
He always made sure the score landed on a number ending in zero, whether it was a multiple of ten or a hundred.
For example, when he was two points away from 200, he would shoot a two-pointer.
But when he was three points away from 210, he wouldn't take a two-pointer. He would go for a three.
Zhang Yu realized what he was doing, and it hit him even harder.
Brother Yi wasn't just humiliating him with the huge score gap. He was humiliating him by controlling the score like this, too.
Of course, if Zhang Yu had been thinking clearly, he would never have believed Wang Yi was trying to humiliate him.
But now, with his energy nearly spent, his mind was growing foggy. On top of that, the crushing blow to his confidence had left him dazed. He was convinced Wang Yi was humiliating him.
When the score reached 250–0, Zhang Yu fell to the floor after getting beaten off the dribble.
Once he hit the ground, he didn't want to get back up. He just lay there on the court.
He had lost count of how many times he'd fallen. Each time before, he'd gritted his teeth and forced himself back to his feet. But this time, no matter how badly he wanted to get up, he couldn't.
It felt as