Khachanov sat in the locker room, watching a video on a tablet.
The match between Cheng Che and Medvedev.
Six to two, six to one.
He watched it three times.
Each time, it felt unreal to him.
Medvedev is an old rival he has faced five times, with a record of two wins and three losses, and each match has been very close.
That Russia player has a solid baseline game, a powerful serve, and excellent mental fortitude; he only lost to Djokovic in five sets in the US Open final.
But in front of Cheng Che, he was like a stone that had been smashed by a hammer.
Khachanov put down the tablet and took a deep breath.
He is 26 years old, ranked fourth in the world, and was the runner-up at Wimbledon this year.
He has played in two Grand Slam finals, facing Djokovic, Nadal, and Federer.
He has seen all types of players and has beaten all types of players.
But at this moment, looking at the boy in the white sports vest on the screen, he felt for the first time that his experience might not be enough.
The coach handed over a statistic. " Cheng Che ranks first in average serve speed, first in return serve winning percentage, and second in baseline rally winning percentage. His only weakness is at the net, but he uses it very infrequently, not giving you any opportunities to exploit his weaknesses."
What about his movement?
"First place." The coach paused. "Faster than Tsitsipas, faster Medvedev, and faster than you too."
Khachanov put away the tablet, stood up, and picked up his racket.
He twirled it in his hand, then gripped it tightly.
His right hand gripped the racket handle, his fingers tightening one by one, as if he wanted to clench the number "fourth" into his palm.
Hall 2, Grandstand.
There were more people in the audience today than at any previous show.
Su Miaoyin sat in the fifth row.
Lin Yan's voice came from the commentary booth:
"Dear viewers, welcome to the Magic City Masters semifinals. Today's match in Hall 2 is a highly anticipated one, with China player Cheng Che facing the tournament's second seed and world number four, Khachanov. Khachanov is 26 years old, a Wimbledon runner-up, and boasts an impressive 82% win rate on hard courts. This is the toughest opponent Cheng Che has faced so far."
The comments section exploded with messages.
[Fourth in the world, that's truly the pinnacle of the elite]
[ Khachanov's baseline game is incredibly solid; Cheng Che might not be able to have it as easy as he did in the previous rounds.]
[Let's see if Cheng Che can maintain his form]
An announcement came over the loudspeaker in the players' tunnel.
"Ladies and gentlemen, now entering is the Russia athlete, Karen Khachanov."
Khachanov walked out of the passage.
He was 1.98 meters tall, with short, dark brown hair, high brow bones, and a sharp jawline.
He was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt, his steps were steady, and he was holding a racket in his right hand.
The Russia fans in the stands stood up and applauded, and he nodded slightly to them.
Then he stood behind the baseline and began to stretch.
His gaze went beyond the net and landed on the players' tunnel exit on the other side.
"Next up is Xia Country's player, Cheng Che."
When Cheng Che came out, the cheers were twice as loud as before.
Khachanov watched the boy walk out of the passage.
He was wearing a white sports vest, dark gray shorts, and headphones around his neck.
He walked slowly to the center of the field, stopped, and looked around the stands.
Khachanov saw his face.
He had seen Cheng Che's video before and knew that the boy was good-looking.
But seeing him up close on the court, he realized that the video footage didn't capture his true appearance at all.
Under the stadium lights, his face looked as clean as if it had been washed, every detail of his features was just right.
A large part of the cheers from the audience were because of this face.
Khachanov had played on this field for ten years and had never received such treatment.
He took a deep breath and told himself that tennis isn't about how you play with your face.
Then he looked at Cheng Che opposite him. Cheng Che was also looking at him. The boy's gaze lingered on his face for a moment.
Khachanov noticed that his expression didn't change, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
Cheng Che was thinking about something else entirely.
He had hoped that the " Attractiveness Suppression " would work on Khachanov, but Khachanov wasn't ugly.
With well-proportioned features, high brow bones, and a sharp jawline, he would definitely be considered handsome among ordinary people.
The Attractiveness Suppression was not triggered.
He glanced at the system panel with some regret, then saw today's feel stats.
90.
He chose to stay put without hesitation.
The referee signaled for them to prepare.
In the first set, Khachanov served first.
He stood behind the baseline and dribbled the ball twice.
His fingers tightened on the handle of the racket, then loosened.
He took a deep breath and tossed the ball up into the air.
One shot from the outside, at a speed of 218 kilometers per hour.
Cheng Che moved two steps to the side and then hit a straight shot with his forehand.
The ball landed on Khachanov's backhand side, bounced, and flew towards the baseline.
Khachanov ran over and delivered a backspin chop.
The ball landed in front of the net, Cheng Che rushed up and lobbed the ball high.
Khachanov retreated to the backcourt and unleashed a long cross-court shot with his forehand.
The ball landed in the corner of Cheng Che Che's forehand side.
Cheng Che ran two steps, but couldn't reach it.
"Fifteen to zero."
Khachanov breathed a sigh of relief.
This is a good start. He turned and walked back to the service line, adjusting his footwork by half a step more than usual.
He himself did not notice this change.
For the second point, Khachanov served a body shot.
Cheng Che sidestepped and then unleashed a powerful diagonal shot.
The ball landed on Khachanov's forehand sideline, bounced, and flew towards the paddle.
Khachanov ran two steps, but couldn't reach it.
"Fifteen to fifteen."
He bounced the ball twice and stood up straight again.
His breathing was a little shallower than before.
Lin Yan's voice came from the commentary booth:
" Khachanov started well, his serve and baseline game were more consistent than his opponents in previous rounds. But Cheng Che Che's return of serve remained accurate, and this backhand cross-court shot directly broke through Khachanov's defense."
A few comments scrolled by.
[ Khachanov is indeed different; he runs much faster Medvedev.]
[But Cheng Che's serve return was still strong; the ball's landing point was too tricky.]
[Let's see if Khachanov can hold his serve.]
He served an inside corner, Cheng Che responded with a forehand topspin attack.
Khachanov blocked the shot with his backhand, and the ball landed in the midfield.
Cheng Che went online and intercepted the attack.
"Fifteen to thirty."
Khachanov watched the ball land.
His knees were bent at a greater angle than usual, and his center of gravity was lower.
This was his subconscious desire to run faster.
For the fourth point, he added a sidespin serve, landing in the inside corner.
Cheng Che returned the serve with a deep ball down the middle.
Khachanov unleashed a long cross-court shot with his forehand, Cheng Che ran over and sliced a backspin with his single-handed backhand.
The ball landed in front of the net. Khachanov rushed up and lobbed the ball high.
Cheng Che retreated to the backcourt and unleashed a powerful cross-court shot with his forehand, which landed in the corner of Khachanov's backhand side.
Khachanov lunged forward, extending his racket to its maximum extent. He missed.
"Fifteen to forty."
He stood behind the baseline, his chest heaving slightly.
His forehand cross-court shot just now was at 180 kilometers per hour, and landed right on the line.
Normal people can't receive it.
But Cheng Che caught it, and returned an even more tricky ball.
Is this even human?