The cheers from the audience and the commentator's surprise did not make Cheng Che relax.
He stood behind the baseline, watching Zhu Junchi on the other side get up from the ground, brush the dust off his knees, and grip his racket again.
Zhu Junchi showed no sign of panic.
He played professionally for ten years and suffered even worse defeats than this.
Cheng Che's expression turned serious.
He wouldn't have been able to catch that ball if he hadn't acquired his new talent, [ Form Moves as the Mind Wills ].
The placement, angle, and spin of that outside serve would be considered a high-quality serve even in a professional match.
Cheng Che let out a breath, his heart trembling with excitement.
The intensity has finally increased.
As Zhu Junchi walked back to the service line, he had already come up with a new plan.
The coach said that Cheng Che's physical attributes were too abnormal; a single, fatal blow wouldn't work.
Then let's delay it.
Engage in prolonged stalemates, maneuvering the opponent at wide angles to force them to run.
Even if he's strong, he's still only eighteen years old, and this is his first time playing in a major competition; he lacks experience.
If you keep the ball within the tenth or fifteenth shot, he'll make a mistake sooner or later.
Zhu Junchi himself was unsure whether this tactic would work.
But he decided to take a gamble.
From the commentary booth, Lin Yan's voice came through the loudspeaker:
"It seems that Zhu Junchi changed his tactics after the first point."
"He no longer seeks to score directly from his serve, but instead starts hitting deeper shots, pushing the ball towards the baseline. The strategy is clear: he wants to stall."
Zhou Zhou continued:
"The biggest problem for young athletes is energy management and competition experience."
" Zhu Junchi wanted to use long rallies to wear down Cheng Che's stamina, waiting for Cheng Che to make a mistake in a long rally."
In the following matches, Zhu Junchi strictly implemented this tactic.
He didn't pursue winning points; every shot was deep and steady, with extremely wide angles, forcing Cheng Che to run back and forth behind the baseline.
Cheng Che was indeed mobilized.
But with [ Enduring Progress Without Fail ] in operation, he could recover most of his strength with each brief break, and his steps remained light.
However, Zhu Junchi's experience was far too extensive.
He wasn't just dragging things out, he was also wearing down Cheng Che's rhythm.
Each beat carries subtle rotational variations, sometimes upward, sometimes sideways, occasionally interspersed with a downward cutting motion.
He didn't give Cheng Che a fixed rhythm.
In the sixth game of the first set, Cheng Che hit a forehand cross-court shot during a baseline rally, but the ball grazed the net and went out of bounds.
"Fifteen to forty."
Zhu Junchi earned two break points.
From the stands, Lin Ming watched with some tension. "He seems to be having a tough time being moved around like this?"
The knowledgeable guy next to him nodded. "Yeah, Zhu Junchi's move is pretty skillful. And didn't you guys notice? He's deliberately changing the pace."
"When Cheng Che was playing against Zhou Kaiyue before, he controlled the pace of the game. But now, the pace is in Zhu Junchi's hands."
The first set ended with the score at 4-6.
Zhu Junchi held his serve to win the first set.
There was a moment of silence in the stands, then a round of applause erupted.
The live chat exploded at this moment.
[No way? Cheng Che lost the first game?]
[I told you he wasn't good enough. He blew his guts out after just one qualifier, but he'll be exposed as a complete novice when he faces real pros.]
[What kind of opponents were they in the previous rounds? Zhou Kaiyue almost didn't even make it to the main competition, and Zhang Hao was just from a municipal sports school. Now that they've met Zhu Junchi, their true colors are showing, aren't they?]
[Haha, why can't the top scorer in the college Zhuangyuan just focus on studying? Why did he have to come and play tennis? Now he's embarrassed himself.]
[Where are his female fans? Come out here, keep praising him!]
[And he calls himself a "high-quality human male"? He can't even handle one game, so where's the "high quality" in that?]
However, many people disagree:
[It's just one set. Tennis is best-of-three. You've only lost one set, what's the rush?]
[The first set was 4-6, it wasn't a shutout, was it really that big of a deal?]
[ Cheng Che has only been learning tennis for a short time, while Zhu Junchi has been a professional player for ten years. Losing one game is normal for them.]
Haters and fans were arguing fiercely in the live chat.
Cheng Che returned to the rest area, placed his racket on a chair, and sat down.
His breathing was steady, and there was only a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.
He covered his face with a towel.
Under the towel, he closed his eyes, his teeth clenching for a moment.
Then release.
Losing is a truly unpleasant experience.
Qin Lie handed Cheng Che a glass of water, which he took and drank a sip.
"Are you tired?" Qin Lie asked.
"Not tired."
"Then why did you lose?"
Cheng Che looked up at Zhu Junchi, who was wiping sweat across from him.
The twenty-six-year-old man was bent over, a towel draped around his neck, his chest heaving violently.
Cheng Che looked at it for two seconds, then looked away and smiled.
"Because I'm watching," he said. "He's played for ten years, he's very experienced, every shot is different... I want to see just how many variations he has."
Qin Lie paused for a moment. "Have you finished reading?"
"I've finished watching."
Qin Lie didn't press further, but simply patted him on the shoulder:
"Then stop watching. Speed things up for the second game."
Cheng Che stood up, pulled the towel off his face, unscrewed the water bottle, and took a sip.
He walked towards the baseline a little faster than he did in the first set.
The second game begins.
Zhu Junchi stood on the opposite side and saw Cheng Che walk back to the baseline. He frowned.
Cheng Che's expression changed.
The gaze that was just moments ago filled with observation and probing has now become cold and sharp, as if it had been polished by something.
He was like a drawn sword, the blade pointing directly at him.
Zhu Junchi's heart skipped a beat. "No way...?"
Cheng Che serves.
He sped up on the first ball.
The ball speed was almost 20 kilometers per hour faster than in the first set!
The landing point changes from the inner corner to the outer corner, and after bouncing, it curves outward.
Zhu Junchi moved two steps to the side and barely managed to block the ball back.
Cheng Che did not back down.
He went up to meet him and hit a long diagonal shot with his forehand.
The ball landed on the sideline, bounced, and flew out of the barrier.
Zhu Junchi did not move.
"Fifteen to zero."
The second ball, served from the outside corner.
Zhu Junchi moved ahead of time, extending his racket to its furthest point.
He blocked the ball back, but it went too shallow.
Cheng Che charged up from the baseline and hit a straight shot with a single backhand.
The ball flew just past the sideline, and Zhu Junchi lunged out but couldn't reach it.
"Thirty to zero."
The third serve is a body serve.
Zhu Junchi hastily blocked with his horizontal swing, sending the ball soaring high into the air.
Cheng Che jumped up and delivered a powerful smash.
The ball hit Zhu Junchi behind him and bounced three meters high.
"Forty to zero."
The entire process took less than fifteen seconds.
From the commentary booth, Lin Yan's voice rose:
" Cheng Che Che's rhythm suddenly changed! He's no longer passively receiving the ball; he's taking the initiative to attack! The change in rhythm for these three balls was so sudden; Zhu Junchi was completely unprepared!"
Zhou Zhou continued:
" Cheng Che has sped up. He's been observing Zhu Junchi's shots and rhythm throughout the first set, and now he's found his rhythm, so he's not going to drag it out any longer."
The cheers from the stands erupted again.
Bullet comments:
[Has he evolved again???]
Was the first game a deliberate attempt to sabotage me?
[What's going on? They were evenly matched just now, and now it's a complete rout?]
But Zhu Junchi is, after all, a professional player.
He quickly regained his composure and, relying on his experience, held his serve in the third game of the second set.
The score is now 2-1, with Cheng Che in the lead.
The fourth game, Cheng Che's serve.
Zhu Junchi went all out, moving his receiving position forward half a step in an attempt to launch an attack.
The adjustment worked, and he forced two break points.
Thirty to forty.
Cheng Che stood behind the baseline and patted the ball.
He glanced at Zhu Junchi across from him; the twenty-six-year-old man was bent over, panting heavily, but his eyes were full of desperate energy.
Cheng Che tossed the ball up and served a shot to the outside corner.
Zhu Junchi received the serve and launched an attack, hitting a forehand down the line. This shot landed right on the sideline.
Cheng Che moved to the side and reached the ball with his one-handed backhand, but the return was not of high quality. Zhu Junchi rushed to the net and hit a forehand volley.
Cheng Che lunged forward. He flew out almost parallel to the ground, his racket stretched to its limit, his fingertips almost touching the ball.
We ran into each other.
He lobbed the ball high and deep.
Zhu Junchi had already moved to the net. He turned around to chase after him, retreated to the backcourt, and smashed a forehand.
Cheng Che got up from the ground and rushed towards the baseline.
He shifted his weight, and with a straight shot, he spun through the air.
Zhu Junchi rushed towards the left area and lunged forward.
However, the ball bounced off the net and rolled back to Cheng Che's half of the court.
Thirty to forty.
Zhu Junchi broke serve.
He stood up abruptly, clenched his fists, and growled at his players' box.
His coach jumped up and clapped his hands.
Cheng Che stood there, watching the ball roll off the net and land at his feet.
He pursed his lips, then looked up at Zhu Junchi opposite him.
Zhu Junchi was celebrating, high-fiving his coach and waving to the stands.
His face was filled with the excitement of "I did it!"
Cheng Che picked up the ball and walked back to the baseline.
He smiled.
His body trembled slightly, and he didn't know why, but he seemed to particularly enjoy this unexpected... confrontation!
Qin Lie, sitting on the sidelines, was stunned for a moment when he saw that smile.
He had known Cheng Che for so long, and this was the first time he had ever seen him show such an expression on the court.
Qin Lie thought to himself:
"This kid usually acts all composed, but deep down he's quite competitive."
Cheng Che serves.
An inside corner ace.
The ball's speed was almost 20 kilometers per hour faster than before!!
Zhu Junchi was completely stunned!
There was absolutely no reaction!
"Fifteen to zero."
The second ball, ACE in the outside corner.
The ball grazed the sideline, bounced, and flew over the barrier. Zhu Junchi remained motionless.
"Thirty to zero."
The third serve is a body serve.
Zhu Junchi managed to block the shot, and the ball flew high into the air.
Cheng Che went online and delivered a powerful smash.
The ball hit Zhu Junchi behind him and bounced three meters high.
"Forty to zero."
The fourth ball, another inside ace.
Cheng Che holds serve. The score is now 3-3.
In the commentary booth, Lin Yan's voice was trembling:
Cheng Che hit four consecutive aces!
"Four serves, Zhu Junchi didn't touch a single one! What kind of serving form is this? This is a rare sight even in professional matches!"
" Zhu Junchi had just broken serve and was riding high on his momentum, but then Cheng Che hit four aces to tell him: You broke my serve once, but I'll make sure you can't even touch the ball!"
The live stream chat exploded again, reaching the peak of tennis viewing popularity.
[I knew Cheng Che would win! Where are all those haters? Did they delete their comments?]
Where are those haters? Come out here!
[When Zhu Junchi broke serve, I thought they were going to turn the game around, but Cheng Che sealed the victory with four aces.]
The blurry, indistinct comments kept scrolling by, expressing the excitement of those watching the tennis match.
The fifth game, Zhu Junchi's serve.
Cheng Che received the serve and launched an attack, scoring with a forehand straight shot that landed right on the line. The score was 0-15.
On the second ball, Zhu Junchi served and went to the net, Cheng Che's one-handed backhand passed the ball through Zhu Junchi's armpit.
Zero to thirty.
On the third ball, Cheng Che backhanded a short shot, Zhu Junchi rushed to the net, and Cheng Che lobbed the ball over his head, landing inside the baseline.
Zero to forty.
On the fourth ball, Zhu Junchi went all out and delivered a high-quality outside shot.
Cheng Che took two steps to the side, then unleashed a long cross-court shot with his forehand. The ball landed on the sideline and flew out of the paddle.
Cheng Che breaks serve. The score is now 4-3.
From the moment Zhu Junchi was broken, Cheng Che did not allow him to score another point.
In the sixth game, Cheng Che held serve, making it 5-3.
In the seventh game, Zhu Junchi served. Cheng Che broke serve again, making it 6-3.
The second set is over.
Zhu Junchi stood behind the baseline, hands on his knees, panting heavily. He was as excited as he was when he broke through the serve, and now he was just as bewildered.
He thought he had found the key, but Cheng Che showed him through his actions:
What you found wasn't a key, but a flint. You lit a fire, and it burned you.
In the stands, the knowledgeable guy murmured:
"He smiled when he was broken in the first game. And from that smile onwards, Zhu Junchi hasn't scored a single point."
The sentiment in the comments section has completely shifted.
[That's ruthless. They didn't give up a single point after being broken; that's even more terrifying than a complete rout.]
Cheng Che's stamina is outrageous. After three rounds, Zhu Junchi was almost collapsed, but Cheng Che was still perfectly fine.
That's talent. Some people practice for ten years and still can't compare to someone who practices for a month.
In the deciding set, Zhu Junchi had no way out.
But his legs could no longer keep up with his will.
The start was a beat too slow, the return was a fraction too shallow, and the serve lacked the sharpness of the first set.
Cheng Che, on the other hand, was in top form. After he sped up,
It never came down again.
Every shot was filled with pressure; every ball seemed to be telling Zhu Junchi: You can't win.
In the first game, I broke serve.
Second set, hold serve.
In the third game, they broke serve.
Fourth set, hold serve.
The score is now 4-0.
In the fifth game, Zhu Junchi finally held his serve.
The score was now 4-1. He stood behind the baseline, panting heavily, gripping his racket tightly. This was his last shred of dignity.
At least win one game.
But Cheng Che didn't give him any more chances.
In the sixth inning, an ace was hit from the outside corner.
"Fifteen to zero."
Immediately afterwards, a forehand diagonal shot pressed down on the line.
"Thirty to zero."
The next ball, a body serve followed by a volley at the net.
"Forty to zero."
The final point.
Cheng Che stood behind the baseline and slammed the ball to the ground twice.
He looked up and glanced at Zhu Junchi across from him.
The twenty-six-year-old man was bent over, his hands supporting his knees, his chest heaving violently.
The scraped skin on my knee hadn't scabbed over yet, and the wound on my palm was bleeding again from repeatedly gripping and hitting the ball.
But he did not give up.
He straightened up, lowered his center of gravity, and prepared to receive the hair.
Cheng Che felt a touch of respect. This person was genuinely playing tennis.
He tossed the ball, jumped, and swung his racket. An inside ace.
The ball hit the service area, bounced, and flew directly towards the advertising boards.
Zhu Junchi did not move.
He stood there, watching the ball fly past, then looked down at his hands and smiled helplessly.
The referee announces the final score.
Six to four, four to six, six to one.
Cheng Che won.
The entire audience rose to their feet and applauded.
Cheng Che walked to the net. Zhu Junchi also came over, his steps were very slow, each step felt like walking on cotton.
The two shook hands.
Zhu Junchi's palms were sweaty and had scratches.
He gave a wry smile, "I won the first set. When I broke serve in the second set, I thought I could turn it around."
"You played very well," Cheng Che said.
Zhu Junchi released his grip and looked at him. "Why did you lose the first game?"
Cheng Che looked at him, thought for two seconds, and said, "Because you're not as skilled as him, you're very strong."
Zhu Junchi was stunned for a moment, then he smiled, a smile that was somewhat bitter, but also somewhat convinced.
He patted Cheng Che's arm and turned to leave.
His back was straight, but his steps were slow, as if something had been taken away from him.
But he didn't bend over or lower his head. He walked slowly, but he didn't fall.
Cheng Che returned to the rest area, Qin Lie handed him a towel.
How are you feeling?
"Not bad." Cheng Che wiped his sweat, his breathing steady. "A little better than the qualifiers."
Qin Lie looked at him and suddenly said, "After you were broken just now..."
Cheng Che turned his head to look at him. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," Qin Lie shook his head. "I just think that your future opponents should avoid messing with you."
Cheng Che smiled but didn't reply.
He took a sip of water but did not return to the lounge.
He stood still, looking towards the center court in the distance.
The center field was a whole size bigger than the second field he was standing on; the stands were higher, the lights were brighter, and the field was wider.
The sunlight fell on it, turning the hard ground white.
He looked for a few seconds, then turned around, draped the towel over his shoulder, and slowly walked back.