After a day of rest, the French Open semifinals begin.
Cheng Che's opponent is the tournament's fourth seed, Norway Casper Ruud.
A clay court specialist, ranked among the top five in the world, and a two-time French Open runner-up.
Not a familiar face; we hadn't faced each other in previous matches.
The semi-finals consisted of two matches.
The morning match is another one: Zverev vs. Sinner.
The afternoon session featured Cheng Che versus Ruud, the final match of the day.
Cheng Che did not rest until the afternoon.
He arrived at the VIP lounge of the Philippe Chatrier Stadium at nine o'clock in the morning.
Qin Lie poured him a cup of coffee, and Chen Wei placed a plate of croissants next to him.
Cheng Che sat on the sofa, looking through the glass at Zverev and Sinner warming up below.
"Who do you think should come out?" Qin Lie asked.
Cheng Che glanced at the court; Zverev was practicing his serve, Sinner was pulling the ball back from the baseline.
He chewed a bite of the croissant, swallowed it, and said:
It doesn't matter who comes out.
Qin Lie didn't reply, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
Zverev won the first set 6-4.
Sinner is not in good form, his first serve percentage is ridiculously low, and he can't find angles in baseline rallies.
Cheng Che watched for a while, finished his croissant, and took a sip of coffee.
In the second set, Sinner found his rhythm and won the tiebreak.
Zverev won the third set.
In the fourth set, Sinner's stamina waned, and Zverev broke his serve twice in a row to end the match 6-3.
Cheng Che stood up and placed the coffee cup on the table.
" Zverev," he said with a smile, "He played well in the second set tiebreak, but in the fourth set, as soon as Sinner lost his rhythm, he immediately pulled away. Experience really matters."
Qin Lie asked, "Are you confident?"
Cheng Che glanced at him and smiled:
"He lost to me in the Australian Open final and then again in the semifinals, so he doesn't have a psychological advantage. Besides, his forehand on clay doesn't have enough spin, so I can just pressure his backhand."
He paused for a moment, then added, "There's nothing to see here. No matter who comes out, they're no match for me."
Qin Lie and Chen Wei exchanged a glance, neither of them saying anything, but their expressions both lit up.
Cheng Che's confidence put them at ease.
3 p. m., Philippe Chatrier Stadium.
The venue was packed. Just like the first round, there were 15,000 seats, and not a single one was empty.
The sky above the stands was a bright, almost white blue, and sunlight streamed through the gaps in the roof, illuminating the clay court.
On a domestic sports channel, Lin Yan and Zhou Zhou sat in the broadcast booth, with another person next to them.
Retired tennis star Li Na.
Lin Yan spoke first:
"Ladies and gentlemen, in the French Open men's singles semi-final, Cheng Che faces Ruud. We have invited Li Na to be our guest commentator for this match. Li Na, what are your thoughts on this game?"
Li Na smiled and spoke decisively:
" Ruud is indeed good on clay, a two-time French Open runner-up, with a very strong baseline rally ability. But Cheng Che has only dropped five sets in five matches so far at this French Open, and he has improved in every single one. When he played Rojas in the first round, his sliding was a bit hesitant, but by the time he played the Argentina in the quarterfinals, he was like someone who had played on clay his whole life."
Zhou Zhou asked, "Then can you predict the score?"
Li Na thought for a moment and said, "Let's make it three to one. Cheng Che will win. Ruud can take one set, but not more."
Lin Yan nodded. "Do you think Cheng Che has any hidden dangers?"
Li Na tilted her head slightly:
"If I had to pinpoint a reason, it would be his experience on clay. Ruud has played in two French Open finals, Cheng Che is playing in his first. The pressure of a Grand Slam semifinal is different from that of a regular match, and younger players might experience ups and downs. But so far, that doesn't seem to be the case. He came back from 0-2 down to win the Australian Open final, showing a more stable mentality than many veterans."
She paused for a moment, then added, "Young people are so well-rounded; it's hard to find a weakness in them."
The screen was flooded with comments.
[ Li Na said it's 3-1, so it's a sure thing.]
"Young people are so well-rounded"—this statement, coming from Li Na, carries immense weight.
[ Li Na was also a French Open Champion back then. If she says Cheng Che is fine, then she means he's fine.]
[ Ruud: I'm also a two-time French Open runner-up, can't you guys show me some respect?]
Respect, but not excessively.
Cheng Che's clay court debut reached the semifinals; I've seen this script all along at the Australian Open.
The on-site announcement system came on.
"First to enter is Casper Ruud from Norway— "
A round of polite applause rang out from the stands.
Ruud walked out of the players' tunnel, wearing an orange-red jersey, his expression calm.
He walked to his seat, put down his golf bag, and began to organize his equipment.
Then the loudspeaker came on.
"Next to enter is Cheng Che from Xia Country— "
In that instant, the entire Stade Philippe Chatrier seemed to be awakened.
The eruption started on the left side of the stands, then moved to the middle, then the right, pushing forward layer by layer from left to right, like waves crashing against the stadium walls and bouncing back.
" Cheng Che!!!"
"Cheng Che!!!"
"Aaaaaahh...
The cheers of 15,000 people mingled together, in various languages and tones, but all directed at the same person.
Some people stood up in the stands, some waved the national flag frantically, and some held banners above their heads, shouting something that was hard to hear, but the expressions on their faces were clear.
The pigeons outside the stadium were startled and took flight in a flurry, circling twice in the Paris sky before landing back down.
Cheng Che walked out of the players' tunnel.
He was wearing a white jersey with the Xia Country flag on his chest and carrying a jersey bag.
The sunlight shone on him, making him look very bright.
[ Stars Surrounding the Moon ] Triggered.
[ Enchantment ] triggered.
[ Humanity's Darling ] Triggered.
With the combined effects of talents and buffs, my Charisma score of 90 temporarily jumped to 100.
When he walked out, his steps were not fast, but each step was at the most comfortable rhythm.
The angle of his head tilt, the degree of his head tilt, the posture of carrying the ball bag—all these elements, through the power of Camera Language, are perfectly executed.
The sunlight cast a thin layer of gold on his shoulders; the white jersey and the red national flag clashed together, creating a scene as clean and beautiful as a painting.
In that instant.
From south to north, from east to west, everyone watching this game on Earth is amazed.
In the domestic broadcast studio, Lin Yan gasped, speechless for a long time.
He has been commentating on tennis for twenty years, witnessing Federer's elegance, Nadal's wildness, and Djokovic's precision.
But at that moment, only one thought remained in his mind: This person, just by standing on the court, had already won.
Li Na remarked with emotion from the side:
"This young man is indeed good-looking."
Zhou Zhou smiled and added:
"He's not just good-looking. His presence alone makes him the center of attention."
In the Europe Sports Channel broadcast booth, a France commentator stared at the monitor, his pen frozen in mid-air.
He was silent for two seconds, then said in a very soft voice in French:
"This person's face was sculpted by God himself."
In the Spain broadcast booth, the commentator exclaimed "So cool!" three times in a row.
Then he added, "Why would someone who looks like that play tennis?"
In the English broadcast booth, the commentator shook his head with a smile and said to the guest next to him, "If I looked like that, I wouldn't play basketball; I'd go into acting."
Similar exclamations occurred simultaneously in the broadcast booths for German, Italy, Portugal, and Japanese.
Some are direct, some are subtle, but the core meaning is the same.
This person's face has transcended the realm of human beauty.
The comments section was so full that the screen was completely obscured.
[Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck]
[I almost dropped my phone the moment he walked out.]
[This isn't a tennis match, it's a visual feast!]
I watched the replay three times, and each time I kept thinking the same question: Why is he so handsome?
[Commentators all over the world are praising his face, I laughed, but I'm praising it too.]
Is this the limit of human beauty?
I think I need to raise my standards for watching tennis much more in the future.
[ Cheng Che: I'm here to play basketball. The whole world: You're here to be handsome.]
In the middle of the stands, Pei Jingshu held up a confetti stick and watched Cheng Che walk out, but she didn't shout.
She stared at his face, but her mind was elsewhere.
How do I win him over after returning to South Korea?
She already has a preliminary plan in mind.
The first step was to take him to eat the best Korean food after he arrived in South Korea.
The second step is to take him for a walk along the Han River.
The third step is to take him home, and then--
Pei Jingshu blushed slightly, then shook her head vigorously, trying to banish those images from her mind.
No, we have to take it slowly.
But this man must be won over.