The Chinese fans in the comment feed were all getting excited.
"Holy crap, so Xiao Yu can do this too? My God, his rhythm is simply unbeatable!"
"This reminds me of Doncic. That's right, Doncic plays exactly like this. He looks slow and unhurried, like he can't get past anyone, but he can get past them all just by using his rhythm."
In a villa in Chang'an, Wang Yi watched the scene and smiled, feeling some of his tension ease.
This rhythmic style of play was one of the key things Wang Yi had focused on while training Wang Shiyu over the past two years.
He knew that although Wang Shiyu was very fast, much faster than his peers, he was still very young.
When he went to challenge Japan's streetball scene at ten years old, he would surely run into players faster than him. In that situation, he would have to change his style and rely on rhythm instead.
Meanwhile, the Japanese fans at the scene could only sigh.
The red-haired Shiraha Otoko had just been beaten by Wang Shiyu's rhythmic play, and the disdain in his eyes vanished, replaced by a grave look.
He had watched footage of Wang Shiyu challenging other streetball courts before. In his eyes, the kid was only fast. Nearly all of his previous wins had come from his speed advantage.
And since he was faster than Wang Shiyu, he had looked down on him a little.
He hadn't expected Wang Shiyu to suddenly change his style against him and start relying on rhythm. That made things a little tricky.
Shiraha Otoko had spent years competing in streetball games, and he had plenty of experience.
He knew that speed-based players were easy to guard. You just had to be faster than them.
But rhythm-based