But when the students heard Wang Yi say he wanted Wang Shiyu to join their team and play a scrimmage against them, they felt more or less insulted.
Having a kid who'd just graduated from kindergarten challenge us—what else could that be but an insult?
"Brother Yi, isn't it a little inappropriate to have Wang Shiyu play in the scrimmage with us?"
The student in the red team's Number 8 jersey questioned him.
Wang Yi smiled and asked, "What's inappropriate about it?"
"I'm afraid we might run into him and hurt him."
Number 8 from the red team replied.
Wang Yi smiled and shook his head. "Don't worry. He's tough as nails. You won't hurt him. And even if you do, you won't be held responsible."
After hearing that, none of the other students raised any more objections.
Soon, each team had twelve players.
Wang Yi first named the red team's five starters and sent them onto the court. Number 8 was among them.
The five players he picked were the strongest on the red team.
None of the students objected. Then Wang Yi picked five players for the blue team.
When it came time to choose the starting point guard, Wang Yi picked Wang Shiyu without hesitation.
That immediately drew objections from all the students.
"Brother Yi, is it really a good idea to have Wang Shiyu start?"
"Brother Yi, I think Wang Shiyu would be better off coming off the bench."
In the students' eyes, Wang Yi just wanted his son to have some fun.
Fine, they could accept him having some fun, but he couldn't just take a starting spot right away because he was Brother Yi's son.
Every one of the other students could play better than a seven-year-old kid like him, couldn't they?
They were