In the domestic broadcast studio, Lin Yan remained silent for several seconds.
He looked at the score on the monitor, then glanced at the pale-faced Argentina on the field, and finally spoke.
There was an indescribable complexity in his voice.
"To be honest, I thought Cheng Che would win. But I didn't expect him to win this way."
He paused for a moment.
"Three sets, 6-0, 6-1, 6-0. The entire match lasted less than an hour and a half. Rojas didn't get a single break point from start to finish, and he couldn't last more than five shots in any rally. This wasn't a match between two different teams. Cheng Che's serve, forehand, backhand, movement, and net play were all overwhelming. He was like a precise machine, operating without a single error."
Zhou Zhou chimed in from the side:
"Look at Rojas's expression. He was actually playing very hard. He was fighting with his forehand and his backhand, and he kept running. But he just couldn't beat him."
Lin Yan nodded. "That's the most despairing part. You give it your all, and the other side doesn't even seem to break a sweat. But Rojas managed to hold on until the very last moment without collapsing, which deserves respect. Anyone else might have given up long ago."
The live chat is going crazy with comments.
[??????]
[Is this a Grand Slam main draw? Why is it playing like a practice match?]
[My opponent is ranked 112th in the world, not 1120th. How did they get beaten like this?]
Cheng Che was in terrifying form today; he barely lost any points on his serves.
Rojas really has the courage to finish all three sets without smashing his racket.
[If I were in that situation, I probably would have cried by now]
[This difference is even bigger than the difference in looks between me and Cheng Che.]
[ Cheng Che: I haven't even used my full strength yet, and you've already collapsed]
[Could the world's number one really win like this?]
To be honest, even the world's number one wouldn't have an easy time against Rojas.
Cheng Che's current hard court skills are truly in a league of their own.
In the stands, the audience's initial surprise turned into awe.
An elderly Australian football fan took off his hat, shook his head, and said to the person next to him:
"I've been watching tennis for twenty years, and I've never seen a match with such a huge gap in skill. This young man isn't here to compete; he's here to crush his opponent."
The person next to him nodded without saying anything, just watching the young man packing up his bag on the court.
Cheng Che stood on the court, holding his golf bag, and looked up.
He scanned the stands, his gaze sweeping over the international students waving national flags, over the spectators who stood up and applauded, and then settling on a spot in the middle.
He paused for a moment, stunned.
Pei Jingshu stood there, her mask pulled down to her chin, revealing her entire face, waving frantically at him.
Cheng Che smiled, raised his right hand, and waved in her direction.
A burst of screams immediately erupted from the stands.
Several audience members around Pei Jingshu also waved. Although they didn't know who Cheng Che was greeting, being waved to by Cheng Che was enough to excite them.
Pei Jingshu grabbed Jin Zhixiu's arm, her voice trembling.
"See? He greeted me! My husband greeted me!"
Jin Zhixiu was being pulled and swayed back and forth, rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile.
"Alright, alright, I saw it."
He smiled! He smiled at me!
"If you call me 'husband' again, the people around will think you've gone crazy."
Pei Jingshu ignored him and kept waving in Cheng Che's direction until he walked into the players' tunnel and his figure disappeared around the corner.
Cheng Che returned to the lounge, where Qin Lie was already waiting at the door.
Qin Lie patted Cheng Che on the shoulder with a rare look of excitement on his face.
"You were on fire today. You didn't miss a single serve and made zero errors from the baseline. Rojas was completely out of rhythm."
Cheng Che put his golf bag on the chair, picked up a bottle of water, took a sip, and smiled.
He didn't say much, but he knew perfectly well why things had gone so smoothly today.
During his morning warm-up, his ball control score started jumping from 90.
90, 91, 92... He kept waiting.
By the time the warm-up was almost over, my touch had jumped to 100.
At that moment, he chose to stay put.
The [ Star of the Court ] passive talent provides continuous support throughout the game, and combined with [ Total Concentration ], it makes him calmer and more decisive in crucial moments than usual.
His Immunity to Heat and Cold meant he was unaffected by Melbourne's high temperatures.
The temperature on Court 2 was close to 35 degrees Celsius today. Rojas, on the other side, started panting heavily in the second set, his jersey soaked with sweat.
Cheng Che's breathing didn't even falter.
In addition, he possesses 80 points in physical strength, 80 points in endurance, Enduring Progress Without Fail, Self-Healing Instinct, and Chosen One of Long-Distance Running.
His body was like an engine that never overheated, maintaining an incredibly stable output from the first point to the last.
In his current form, even the world's number one would lose.
Cheng Che was the first player to finish his match today.
When he finished packing his things and came out of the lounge with Qin Lie and Chen Wei, the match in the next venue was still going on.
Several other players' team members were in the corridor, and when they saw Cheng Che walking over, their eyes unconsciously followed him.
A middle-aged man who looked like Spain coach stared at Cheng Che's back for several seconds, then turned to his assistant and whispered something to him.
The assistant nodded, his expression grave.
Cheng Che paid no attention to the stares.
He got into the car and went back to the hotel.
Meanwhile, in the other players' locker room, the atmosphere was completely different.
A 24-year-old France player just finished his first-round match and won 3-1.
He was sitting in a chair drinking water, preparing to savor the joy of victory.
Then his coach pushed open the door and came in, his face grim.
"Stop resting," the coach said. "Pack your things and head back to the hotel."
"What's wrong?"
"Go watch the video. Cheng Che's match video."
The France athlete paused for a moment, then asked, " Cheng Che? That Xia Country?"
"Yes." The coach handed over his phone, the screen displaying a score: 6-0, 6-1, 6-0.
The France player stared at the score for three seconds, then stood up and put down his water bottle.
Let's go.
At the same time, in another lounge.
An Argentina player had just lost a match and was in a bad mood.
But his coach came over and patted him on the shoulder.
"Don't dwell on it, you didn't lose unjustly," the coach said. "Go watch that Xia Country's match. We need to know how to play against him next."
"How are we supposed to play?" The Argentina gave a wry smile. "I haven't even been able to touch the ball today."
The coach paused for a moment, then said, "So we need to study him. He can't be like this every game. Find his weakness, even just one, and we'll have a chance."
Similar conversations were taking place simultaneously in several lounges in Melbourne Park.
The coaches pulled their players aside, opened their laptops, pulled up Cheng Che's game recordings, and watched them frame by frame.
Serve placement, receiving stance, baseline movement, spin rate of backhand slice, and preference for forehand attacks.
They knew this person needed to be thoroughly investigated.
Otherwise, this Champion would have been his for the taking.
In the hotel room, after taking a shower, Cheng Che lay on the bed and sent a message to Pei Jingshu.
Are you free tomorrow? I can come out after training this afternoon.
Pei Jingshu replied instantly, "Yes!!!"
Three exclamation marks.
Cheng Che looked at the three exclamation marks and smiled.
He placed his phone on the bedside table and closed his eyes.
There's another match tomorrow.
But today, all he wants is to get a good night's sleep.