Wang Yi shook his head. "I'm not here to talk to you about the kids, and I'm certainly not asking you to favor us."
The yellow-haired, curly-haired Norberto Bode smiled awkwardly. "Of course, of course."
Wang Yi continued, "As far as I know, the baskets used in Toronto kindergarten basketball games are 190 centimeters high."
Norberto Bode nodded. "That's right."
Wang Yi pointed to the basket on the left. "That basket isn't high enough. It looks about 1.5 centimeters too low."
Norberto Bode looked a little puzzled. "Can you really tell with the naked eye that it's 1.5 centimeters too low?"
But out of caution and respect for Wang Yi, he nodded anyway. "I'll take care of it."
He then found a technician on the sidelines and told him what Wang Yi had said. The technician was a little surprised too, but went to get a measuring tape.
The parents around the court saw Wang Yi talking to the referee and wondered what was going on.
One of the parents was already a Wang Yi hater. Seeing this, he gave a cold snort and said to the person beside him:
"This is bad. He's cozying up to the referee. Look at the way the referee's looking at him—it's like a dog looking at its master. Looks like this game's about to lose any semblance of fairness."
The parent beside him shook his head. "You're taking your hate a little too far. Do you really think Wang Yi would do something that blatant in front of everyone? Besides, he's never been that kind of person."
"Heh. We'll see."
The hater replied.
As they spoke, the technician returned with a measuring tape and checked the height of the basket. Then he told referee Norberto Bode, "It really is 1.5 centimeters too low.