The crowd dispersed slowly.
After the match ended, Cheng Che was surrounded for a full twenty minutes.
Some wanted photos, some wanted to add him on WeChat, and some insisted on shaking his hand, saying, "When you make it big, I'll be among the first fans to have witnessed history."
Cheng Che dealt with them one by one, smiling until his face went stiff.
Only when the crowd finally dispersed did he pick up his tennis bag and follow Old Chen and Qin Lie into the office.
Old Chen got busy the moment he walked in.
He opened the small cabinet against the wall, fished out a tin of tea, then dug out three paper cups, his movements so practiced that he looked ready to receive a visiting official.
"Sit wherever you like." He put the kettle on. "This office of mine is practically a meeting room now. People come in and get straight down to business. And not just talk, either-the success rate's pretty high."
Cheng Che couldn't help lowering his head with a chuckle.
Qin Lie sat down beside him and looked around.
"You call this an office? Anyone who didn't know better would think it was a storeroom. Those two boxes of tennis balls in the corner practically reach the ceiling."
Old Chen didn't even turn around. "What do you know? That's my entire fortune. Let me tell you, those two boxes of balls are the only reason you're sitting here today."
"All right, all right." Qin Lie waved a hand, his gaze returning to Cheng Che. "Let's get to business."
Old Chen handed over the brewed tea, sat down behind his desk, then suddenly took out his phone and swiped a few times.
"You haven't seen this yet."
Smiling, he turned the phone around. The music video for "Midsummer Reply" was playing on the screen.
In the video, a boy stood on a tennis court, turning to look back with the light behind him.
Qin Lie glanced at it, then looked up at Cheng Che, his expression somewhat surprised. "That's you? You've worked with Yan Ruanning?"
"Sort of." Cheng Che nodded. "I helped a friend shoot a few scenes."
"Not bad." Qin Lie pushed the phone back, a hint of reassessment entering his voice. "With that face, you could make a living without playing tennis."
Old Chen let out a "Heh!"
"You even know Yan Ruanning? A rough middle-aged guy like you listens to pop music?"
Qin Lie shot him a sideways look. "I don't. My daughter does. She plays it at home every day. How could I not know?"
"Oh," Old Chen said, his smile laden with meaning. "Then what would your daughter think if she knew her dad nearly got beaten to tears by a high school student today?"
"Who got beaten to tears?" Qin Lie glared. "Don't go making things up. That was strategic stamina depletion."
Cheng Che: "..."
Coach Qin, that 'strategic' part really isn't convincing.
After the three of them laughed for a while, Qin Lie finally turned serious.
"Back to business. Cheng Che, you've got excellent attributes-the talent, the physique, the presence. If you're willing to go pro, I can pave the way for you. Contracts, training, tournament arrangements, commercial development-I have resources for all of it."
"Coach Qin, I've actually looked into it a little myself," Cheng Che said seriously. "Is it especially hard for tennis players in China to make it?"
Qin Lie nodded, making no attempt to hide it.
"Hard. Extremely hard. Plenty of promising prospects end up falling at the hurdles of 'no money' and 'no resources.' The tennis environment here isn't good. There's little commercial revenue, few tournaments, and low prize money. Unless you have sponsorship, trying to get by on tournaments alone basically means burning through your own money in the early stages."
"That's what I saw online, too," Cheng Che said. "That's why so many people advise against playing tennis if your family doesn't have money."
"It's unpleasant to hear, but that's more or less the truth." Qin Lie sighed. "So I'll be honest with you. If you just enjoy playing, you could live very well as a top amateur or an internet-famous player. But if you want to go pro and get results, that road is a very difficult one."
When he finished, he looked at Cheng Che.
Cheng Che fell silent for a little while, then said:
"I haven't decided yet whether tennis is definitely the path I want to take."
Qin Lie's expression shifted slightly. He was about to say something when Cheng Che added another sentence.
"My grades are decent. My chances of getting into Tsinghua or Peking University aren't exactly slim."
"Pfft-" Old Chen nearly spat out a mouthful of tea.
He set his cup on the desk, his eyes wide. "Your grades are good? How good?"
"Six hundred and ninety on the last monthly exam," Cheng Che said.
Old Chen: "..."
Qin Lie: "..."
The office suddenly went utterly quiet.
Only the kettle in the corner was still bubbling away.
Old Chen slowly turned toward Qin Lie, his eyes full of shock and helplessness.
"Old Qin, this kid..."
"I know." Qin Lie gave a wry smile. "He's just too outstanding. He has too many choices."
Cheng Che lowered his head, his fingers gently rubbing the rim of his paper cup.
His face held just the right touch of uncertainty, making him look exactly like a high school student wavering at a crossroads.
Inside, he was very pleased.
The active talent [Boy of Many Styles] was even more useful than he had imagined.
With a mere thought, that "naive boy" state had come over him, startling even himself.
"But I want to give it a try first." Cheng Che raised his head, his gaze slowly becoming resolute. "See whether I really have the talent. I want to play matches against people. A real clash of blades and spears."
Qin Lie looked into his eyes, considered for a few seconds, then nodded.
"All right. In June, after the college entrance exams, there's the National Youth Games. It's an official event. Tennis is one of the sports, split into qualifying rounds and the main draw. Although it's called a youth event, the upper age limit is thirty. Quite a few professionals compete, along with some people already playing ranking-points tournaments."
He paused and looked at Cheng Che.
"If you want to go, I can help you register."
Cheng Che's eyes lit up. "The National Youth Games... are there a lot of people?"
"A lot." Qin Lie nodded. "A lot of strong players, too. Especially in tennis. Plenty of provincial team players will be there."
Cheng Che's heart sank a little.
His original plan had been to enter a small regional tournament and get through the second stage of the "Stamina Trial."
He hadn't expected Qin Lie's recommendation to jump straight to the national level.
But soon, that little flame inside him began burning again.
Cheng Che thought back over these past few months, from struggling even to run to now being able to trade shots with a former professional for over an hour, from a bottom-ranked poor student to the top student in the entire school.
He had kept winning, kept moving forward.
The spirit he had lost had long since returned, and worldly victories kept him moving forward.
Since that was the case, what was there to fear?
"All right." Cheng Che nodded, enunciating every word. "I'll go. I want to win the championship."
At those words, Qin Lie froze for a moment, then smiled.
"Good." His smile was delighted, as though he had seen his younger self. "That's more like it."
However, Qin Lie didn't take out a contract.
He didn't bring up signing.
For one thing, Cheng Che was only eighteen and still a high school student. If they really reached the contract-signing stage, a parent would have to be present.
For another, Cheng Che's grades were so good that if his parents objected, Qin Lie wouldn't even get the chance to "take him to tournaments."
He chose to trust this boy.
Because those eyes of his were far too clear. So clear that he didn't seem capable of lying.
If Cheng Che knew what Qin Lie was thinking, he would definitely look at [Boy of Many Styles] on his panel, then nod solemnly.
"I can lie."