Cheng Che opened the schedule sent by Qin Lie and scanned it from top to bottom.
The most famous international track and field event is the Diamond League, with its events running from May to August, spanning the entire summer.
He was playing in the French Open and Wimbledon at the time and missed a single match.
Next is the World Athletics Championships, held every two years. This year is a World Championships year, starting at the end of August, and the competition is already underway.
He missed it again.
Scrolling down further, Qin Lie marked several projects that were still feasible in red.
In mid-October, the Capital City Marathon, World Athletics Gold Label event, will be held.
The New York Marathon in early November.
The Tokyo Marathon in mid-November.
Cheng Che stared at the three options for a few seconds.
He crossed out the New York Marathon.
I just finished the US Open in September, and now I'm flying to the United States to run a marathon in November. It's too much trouble to go back and forth like that.
The Tokyo Marathon was a bit late, so he was probably already on the set of " Easter Egg " by then.
The Capital City Marathon is the perfect choice, in mid-October. The location is right near my home, and I can even go home for a meal after the race.
He sent Qin Lie a message: " Capital City Marathon, registering."
Qin Lie replied quickly, "Are you sure? Mid-October, the full marathon is 42 kilometers. You've run two full marathons before, but that was last year; you haven't run a single one this year."
"Sure."
"Okay. I'll contact the organizing committee. With your current reputation, they should be happy to give you a spot in the competition."
Cheng Che replied with an "okay" and placed his phone on the bedside table.
Then he opened the system panel and clicked on [ Academic Descent ], which he hadn't used yet this month.
[Randomly appearing...]
[Target: Ernest Hemingway, United States author and war correspondent.]
[Random knowledge transfer in progress...]
Cheng Che felt a batch of new ideas flooding into his mind.
He closed his eyes for a few seconds to process what he was seeing, then opened them with a somewhat complicated expression.
Firearms maintenance.
Pistol shooting stance.
Muscle memory for quick, close-range gun draw.
There is also a book analyzing the writing techniques of " The Old Man and the Sea".
He paused for a moment, then muttered, "What would I need marksmanship for?"
He's not United States.
Europe don't need to learn this.
He is a Xia Country, living in a country where guns are prohibited, and he may never touch a real gun in his life.
The system crammed him with a bunch of firearms knowledge and Hemingway's writing techniques; he couldn't exactly use that stuff to tell people, "I know how to maintain a handgun."
But then he thought again, it wasn't entirely useless.
You can keep the writing skills; you might need them if you ever need to write a script or lyrics in the future.
Forget about the marksmanship; consider it a freebie from the system. It's not a loss if you don't use it.
"Does this system think I'm going to compete in Olympic shooting events?"
He muttered something to himself, then shook his head.
In the subsequent semi-final, Cheng Che played with ease.
His opponent is Norway Markus Halden, ranked third in the world.
It took five games to win the last round, and I was exhausted.
Cheng Che advanced with five consecutive shutouts, demonstrating a level of physical stamina that is completely different from others.
The score was 6-3 in the first set, 6-2 in the second set, and 6-1 in the third set.
In less than two hours of the entire match, Cheng Che did not give his opponent a single break point.
In the aftermath of the match, reports from major sports media outlets around the world were overwhelming.
L' L'Équipe's headline read, "Nineteen years old, four Grand Slams, history awaits in New York."
Marca put it more bluntly. " Cheng Che is just one victory away from making history. Since the Open Era, no one has ever won all four Grand Slams in a single year."
The La Gazzetta dello Sport focused on his dominance. "Throughout the US Open, he didn't drop a single set. Hard court, clay, grass—three surfaces, one name."
The shortest headline in Bild was. "The King Arrives."
Meanwhile US Open, on the domestic trending topics list, the three hashtags # Cheng Che #, #GrandSlamsInOneYear#, and #HistoryAtNineteenYearOld# were all listed side by side, and the comment section was filled with jubilation.
[A Grand Slam in one year, the first in the Open Era, who else can compare?]
[He hasn't stopped since the Australian Open, four Grand Slams in a year, I wouldn't even dare to dream of writing such a script.]
To be honest, I still find it unreal. At the beginning of the year, he was still playing in qualifying rounds, and now he's about to win a career Grand Slam.
[Is this guy blessed with some kind of superpower?]
[I don't care, just win the finals!]
The final day, Arthur Ashe Stadium.
The Centre Court, which can hold 23,000 people, was packed to capacity.
The stands were packed with people from the bottom to the top. Some were holding national flags, some were holding support signs, and some were wearing T-shirts with Cheng Che's name printed on them.
A row of retired legends and event officials sat in the front row of the inner field, dressed in suits and ties, with various expressions.
More than a dozen broadcast cameras were set up, pointing at the stadium from different angles.
As Cheng Che walked into the player tunnel, the system panel popped up.
[ Tolerance Makes Greatness (Passive): Current Malice Count: 1,000,000+. Current Popularity Bonus: 100%]
He glanced at the 100% mark and a slight smile played on his lips.
This is the only talent he has reached its maximum potential; there will be no new numbers from now on.
However, with the 100% positive public image boost and the cross-circle spread effect of [ the Barrier Breaker ], the Charisma Trial: Second Stage, including metrics like views, positive feedback, and influence, is basically a breeze to pass.
He turned off the panel and walked towards the exit of the passage.
The moment his name was announced over the loudspeaker, the roar of Arthur Ashe Stadium erupted as if it had been set ablaze.
Cheers surged in from all directions; some shouted "KING," some shouted " Cheng Che," and some simply screamed.
A group of people stood in the front row of the stadium, some in the second-tier stands held the national flag above their heads and waved it frantically, while some in the third-tier stands stomped their feet.
Cheng Che walked to the center of the court, raised his right hand, and put his index finger in front of his lips.
Shhh.
The movement was very subtle, but the director cut to a close-up, showing his finger to his lips on the big screen, his expression calm.
The sound in the stadium dropped within seconds, as if someone had turned down the volume knob. Some people in the stands were still whispering something, but the stadium was mostly quiet now.
Meanwhile, on the opposite half of the court, his opponent was already drenched in sweat.
The Italy, the tournament's second seed, is ranked number two in the world.
He stood behind the baseline, gripping his racket, his palms sweaty.
When Cheng Che made that "shh" gesture, he felt a chill run down his back, down his spine, all the way to his waist.
He didn't understand why he was so nervous.
[ Attractiveness Supreme ]
[ Champion ]
[ The Great Demon King ]
With three talents stacked together, the Italy, standing behind the baseline, felt like they were facing a mountain.
He shook his head, trying to shake off that absurd thought, but it was no use.
His hands were shaking, and his legs felt heavier than usual.
In the stands, after a few seconds of silence, the more than 20,000 people began to shout again. This time, their shouts were more synchronized and their rhythm more steady.
" Cheng Che! Cheng Che! Cheng Che!"
In the live stream broadcast globally, the chat was so flooded with comments that the screen was completely obscured.
[His shushing gesture gave me goosebumps.]
[Their faces turned pale, did you see that?]
This isn't a game of ball; it's psychological attack.
[ Cheng Che: Quiet. And then the whole room really did go silent.]
[This guy just standing on the court is the epitome of pressure.]
[The Italy's expression told me he was doomed today.]
[They're scared before the battle even begins; how can they possibly fight like this?]
Do you think he used some kind of psychological tactic?
[What tactics? This is pure oppression. You'd be weak in the knees if you went up there.]
The referee announces the coin toss.
Cheng Che won and chose to serve first.
He walked behind the service line, bounced the ball twice, tossed it, and swung his racket.
With a "thud," the ball left the racket face.
At 229 kilometers per hour, it was like a cannonball hitting the inner corner.
The Italy had barely taken half a step when the ball bounced out, hitting the barrier with a dull thud.
Fifteen to zero!
The stands exploded!!