After losing a point and losing face, John seemed even more determined to take Miaomiao on.
He kept changing the angles of his serves, cycling through smashes, drop shots, and crosscourt shots. He gradually stopped holding back, each shot faster and harder than the last.
The high-speed tennis balls blasted straight toward Miaomiao's side of the court like shells fired from a cannon.
Miaomiao still hadn't fully gotten used to the ball and racket. With John switching shots so rapidly, she grew a little bewildered. She could clearly see the ball, yet she kept missing it by just a little.
Over the next few minutes, her disadvantage became glaringly apparent.
Either she misjudged the shot and ran to the wrong position, helplessly watching the ball land in a corner and score, or she swung in a rush, missing entirely or hitting the ball straight out of bounds.
The score quickly widened as Miaomiao lost point after point.
At the sidelines, Lia watched with her heart in her throat, her hands tightly clasped together, even her breathing growing cautious. But she didn't dare call out and distract her again. All she could do was stare at the court and silently worry about Miaomiao.
Only Seraphina's expression remained unchanged. Her azure eyes rested quietly on Miaomiao, keenly picking up on the subtle changes.
No one noticed that despite losing point after point, Miaomiao never panicked or grew discouraged.
In the pause before each new serve, she would quietly think for a few seconds and gently swing the racket in her hand.
She was getting used to her racket on her own!
In just a handful of shots, Miaomiao rapidly familiarized herself with the racket's weight, the rhythm of her swings, and the speed and landing patterns of the tennis ball. The situation