The Magic City Masters has officially begun.
Qizhong Tennis Center, located in Minhang District, is one of the largest tennis centers in Asia.
The entire complex includes a Centre Court that can accommodate 15,000 people, as well as Halls 2 and 3 and multiple outdoor training fields, totaling 25 standard courts.
Every October, this place gathers the world's top-ranked players to present a tennis extravaganza for the audience.
This year's lineup is particularly strong.
Fourteen of the world's top twenty players were present, including defending Champion and current world number four Khachanov of Russia, and Tsitsipas of Greece, who just won the Australian Open and whose world ranking soared to 42nd.
Media outlets predict that this year's final will likely be contested between the world's top ten players.
But before the competition started, everyone's attention was focused on one person.
Cheng Che.
The organizing committee arranged his first round of matches in Hall 2, a venue that can accommodate 5,000 people.
This arrangement sparked some discussion, with some questioning why a wildcard entrant should occupy Hall 2. However, the organizing committee's response was direct:
The Tokyo Open Champion, the most talked-about figure on global social media, and his influence in Xia Country is undeniable.
Simply put, the organizing committee wants to capitalize on this surge in online traffic.
In the dressing room of Hall 2, Cheng Che was making his final preparations.
Qin Lie stood beside him, holding information about today's opponent.
"Your opponent is Thiago Ferreira, Portugal, 28 years old, ranked 83rd in the world. He's a baseline player with a very strong forehand, a relatively weak backhand, and a decent serve. He performs better on clay and is slightly weaker on hard courts."
Qin Lie paused, a hint of understanding in his voice:
"The organizing committee has assigned you a relatively weak opponent. It seems they want you to play more matches in the main competition."
Cheng Che nodded.
Playing more games wouldn't be a bad thing for him.
More matches mean more practical testing of his Tactical Brain Pack, and also mean more spectators will see his performance in Hall 2.
He glanced down at the system panel.
[ Stamina Trial Fourth Stage: Two Crowns in Tandem. Mission Objective: Win one Champion in both running and tennis. Current Progress: Tennis 0/1, Running 0/1.]
Perfect.
We've already won the Tokyo Champion; if we win this match in Magic City, we'll complete our tennis mission.
As for running, I can find a half marathon or 10km race after I return to China.
He stretched his wrists and ankles, mentally preparing himself for peak condition.
Ferreira stood in the players' tunnel in Hall 2 and heard the sounds outside.
He has participated in many major competitions.
He has qualified for the main competition in Madrid, Rome, and Paris.
But today feels different.
Cheers erupted from the stands, crashing against the walls of the aisle like a tidal wave.
He wiped the sweat from his palms with a towel and looked down at his racket.
He checked Cheng Che's video.
That 18-year-old boy from Xia Country won all seven of his matches at the Tokyo Open without dropping a set, leaving ATP-ranked Becker, ranked 70th, saying, "You make me feel like I'm standing in a storm."
His serve is extremely fast, his baseline game is stable, his net play is precise, and his mobility far surpasses that of his peers.
What's even more frightening is that he showed almost no emotional fluctuations throughout the entire match, and his expression remained calm from beginning to end.
Ferreira took two deep breaths to calm himself down.
"Don't overthink it," he told himself. "You're a professional player, you have experience."
In the stands, Pei Jingshu and her best friend sat in the corner of the fifth row.
Pei Jingshu wore a baseball cap and pulled her mask up above her nose, revealing only her eyes.
Her best friend was the same, fully armed.
As soon as the two sat down, the best friend looked around and couldn't help but sigh.
"So many people?" Pei Jingshu was somewhat surprised.
She had seen photos of tennis matches online before, and the stands were usually not full, especially in the first round.
"It's usually not full," her best friend whispered. "But today is the weekend, and it's the first day of the Master tournament. Plus, your boyfriend is incredibly popular. I asked the ticket volunteers, and they said that tickets for Hall 2 sold out three days in advance, and there aren't even any standing tickets left."
Pei Jingshu rolled her eyes at her. "What little boyfriend?"
"You're not denying it anymore." My best friend chuckled.
Pei Jingshu did not respond.
She turned her gaze to the sports field, but her mind was filled with thoughts of what she had been doing in the hotel over the past two days.
She searched Cheng Che's name online.
The more I searched, the more surprised I became.
Top scorer in the National College Zhuangyuan, tennis Champion at the National Youth Games, and Champion of the Tokyo Open.
Cultural tourism promotional video, Wilson endorsement, number one on music platform's hot song chart.
Peking University's Department of Mathematics breaks marathon record.
She read through all the information one by one, and eventually even created a separate document to take notes.
Her search history was full of entries related to Cheng Che.
In South Korea, she would never try to understand someone like this.
Never.
But on the other side of the stands, Xiao Zhou and Yan Ruanning were also sitting in the crowd.
Yan Ruanning wore a dark long-sleeved jacket, her hat pulled low, and a mask covering most of her face.
Xiao Zhou sat next to her, also fully armed.
The two of them came to Magic City to attend a music festival, but Yan Ruanning couldn't sleep last night, tossing and turning in her hotel room, and ended up looking at the schedule of the Magic City Masters.
Today is Cheng Che's first round match.
"Since we're already here," she said, "We might as well take a look around."
Xiao Zhou was applying a face mask at the time. Upon hearing this, she turned around, glanced at her, and smiled slightly, but didn't expose her.
The announcement came over the loudspeaker.
"Ladies and gentlemen, now entering is Thiago Ferreira of Portugal."
Ferreira walked out of the passageway.
He was very tall, about 1.85 meters, with dark brown hair tied in a small ponytail.
He was wearing a dark gray tracksuit, holding a racket in his right hand, and waving slightly towards the stands with his left.
Polite applause rang out from the stands.
It wasn't particularly enthusiastic, but it was still quite appropriate.
A few Portugal fans waved their national flags and shouted twice in the corner.
Pei Jingshu clapped a few times, then her gaze returned to the exit of the players' tunnel.
"Next up is Xia Country's player, Cheng Che."
At the exit of the players' tunnel, the shadow was first cut off by a pair of long legs.
Cheng Che came out.
He didn't make any unnecessary movements; he simply walked out, stood still, and glanced at the stands.
But in that instant, the entire Hall 2 seemed to have been switched on by something.
The cheers from the stands erupted almost instantly.
A girl stood up and screamed, and the people around her followed suit, then more people.
Some people shouted " Cheng Che, keep going!" in Chinese, some shouted "Che-kun!" in Japanese, and some shouted "Cheng Che!" in English.
Pei Jingshu was also pushed forward slightly by the sound.
Her best friend next to her stood up and applauded, and after hesitating for a moment, she stood up as well.
She didn't shout, but her gaze remained fixed on the white figure.
He stood on the court, put his tennis bag away, took out his racket, and bent down to check the strings.
His movements were slow and steady.
The surrounding noise seemed to have no effect on him; he simply stood there, doing what he was supposed to do.
Ferreira stood behind the opposite baseline, watching this scene unfold.
He gripped his racket tightly.
"This guy," he thought to himself, "Is even stronger than in the video."
He watched Cheng Che's video and knew that his serve was very fast.
But it wasn't until he stood on the court, looking at that boy on the other side, that he truly felt that sense of pressure.
It's not about technique, it's about momentum.
The boy stood there, and the entire stadium seemed to revolve around him.
In the first game, Ferreira served first.
He stood behind the baseline, dribbled the ball twice, and took a deep breath.
Toss the ball, swing the racket.
One shot from the outside, at a speed of 195 kilometers per hour.
Cheng Che moved two steps to the side and then hit a straight shot with a backhand.
The ball flew past Ferreira's forehand sideline and landed a few centimeters inside the baseline.
Ferreira did not pursue.
He watched the ball land, bounce, and then fly towards the barrier behind it.
"Fifteen to zero."
Ferreira lowered his head, patted the ball twice, and then got back into position.
For the second ball, he added more sidespin and changed the landing point to the inside corner.
The ball bounced up and veered towards Cheng Che's body.
This kind of shot is the most difficult to land; the receiver can't generate power when trying to return it, and can't borrow momentum when trying to do so.
Cheng Che did not back down.
He sidestepped to create space and unleashed a powerful diagonal shot with his forehand.
The ball flew close to the net and landed in the shallow area on Ferreira's backhand side.
Ferreira rushed forward and barely managed to reach the ball with his forehand, but his return was of poor quality.
The ball landed in the middle of the field, bounced up but lost power.
Cheng Che was already standing in front of the net.
He gently pressed down with his backhand, and the ball rolled along the net and landed at Ferreira's feet.
"Thirty to zero."
The crowd erupted in cheers once again.
Ferreira stood behind the baseline, his chest heaving.
He looked down at his hands.
My palms were sweating even more than before.
When he served the second ball, the ball speed was a little slower than before.
Cheng Che launched a direct attack, unleashing a backhand flick.
Ferreira lunged forward, extending his racket to its limit, only to touch a wisp of air.
"Forty to zero."
Ferreira stood there, looking down at his hands.
He gave a wry smile.
The sound was very low, but it was heard by the nearby audience and the microphones on the sidelines.
"We're doomed."