Chapter Forty-Three: Sophomores Versus Seniors (Part Four)

Lin Nan, who had just assumed a defensive stance, was delighted to see the player wearing number three heading in his direction. In his heart, he thought: Daring to wear my idol’s number? Let’s see if you have the skills to match.

Soon enough, Li Qing dribbled the ball up to Lin Nan. Observing Lin Nan’s posture—knees slightly bent, body leaning forward, arms spread wide—Li Qing noted it was textbook defense, though he wondered if it was all just for show.

However, after a few exchanges, he realized this freshman was no pushover, and it was no wonder the coach had warned him to pay attention. Whether Li Qing tried to shake him with footwork or changes in pace, Lin Nan followed his every move tightly, giving no opportunity to break through. When Li Qing tried to post up, he found Lin Nan’s physique—impressive for a fellow point guard—too solid to overpower. Even when Li Qing tried repeated crossovers and hesitation moves, Lin Nan wasn’t fooled at all, refusing to bite on any fakes.

Isn’t he afraid I’ll just shoot over him? Li Qing wondered.

In truth, Lin Nan had grown immune to such tricks after playing pick-up games with older men all summer. Especially the hesitation move—he had never faced anyone with better hops than himself, so he was never worried about someone shooting over him. After training his explosive jumping ability, even players who were a bit shorter or had a lower release point couldn’t get a shot past him, even if they created some space.

With the shot clock winding down, Li Qing ultimately decided not to shoot. Yet he also didn’t want to pass the ball out—doing so would be admitting defeat.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. He glanced at Jiu Wu, who stood by the baseline like a towering pillar, and made a drive down the wing toward the baseline.

What’s he planning? Lin Nan wondered, noting that Jiu Wu’s defensive position was flawless—there was no way Li Qing could score even with an acrobatic layup.

The scene felt oddly familiar to Lin Nan, reminiscent of his own games with the older men. Could it be that Li Qing was...

Lin Nan quickly glanced over at Luo Si’s position—he was near the free-throw line, with no defenders from the freshman team nearby. Seeing Zhao Qiang standing on the far side, Lin Nan shouted, “Zhao Qiang, run to the other end!”

Caught off guard, Zhao Qiang hesitated for a moment, but something in Lin Nan’s tone brooked no argument. The next second, he sprinted toward the opposing frontcourt.

The other players on the court watched in confusion. Wasn’t the freshman team supposed to be playing defense? What was going on?

Only Luo Si, near the free-throw line, seemed to understand, but he was too far away from Zhao Qiang to warn Li Qing.

By then, Li Qing had already driven deep along the baseline, taking the first two steps of a three-step layup. He had to shoot immediately, and Lin Nan was already giving up the space to Jiu Wu, moving himself closer to the free-throw line.

At the baseline, Li Qing wore a calm and even slightly triumphant expression, believing Lin Nan was right behind him, ready to team up with Jiu Wu for a double block. He thought to himself, That kid will never guess my plan. Luo Si is already in his sweet spot, even though we’ve never exchanged a glance or signal the whole play.

This is what real teamwork looks like. Three years of basketball have built this chemistry. Watch and learn, kid!

Li Qing leapt into the air on his final step, feigning a reverse layup. Jiu Wu immediately reached up to block, rightly suspecting this shot had little chance of going in.

But in a sudden twist, Li Qing, with his back to the basket, redirected the ball at its apex with a behind-the-back pass toward the free-throw line.

The ball flew straight for Luo Si—it was a perfect pass, both in angle and height, set to arrive right at his chest.

But at that very moment, Lin Nan sprang up along that very trajectory.

With lightning speed, he soared into the air, snatching the ball single-handedly, twisted in midair, and hurled it toward Zhao Qiang.

Having already crossed half-court, Zhao Qiang caught this miraculous pass and sprinted straight to the basket, unopposed—no, there was truly no one there—and laid the ball in.

The score was now 24 to 18!

The crowd erupted. Many girls were left dumbstruck by Lin Nan’s spectacular midair steal; even the senior team’s substitutes broke into applause.

How could he jump so high? How could he hang in the air for so long?

At that moment, a PE teacher from Qingshui No. 1 High School—nicknamed the Gorilla—came to sit beside Zhu Bo at the edge of the court. He had watched the entire sequence unfold.

With a smile, the Gorilla turned to Zhu Bo. “That new kid is incredible!”

Zhu Bo nodded. Indeed, while most people only saw Lin Nan’s explosive leap and extraordinary body control, what shocked Zhu Bo and the Gorilla most was his terrifying basketball IQ.

In an instant, Lin Nan had deduced Li Qing’s intentions and orchestrated a perfect response, instructing Zhao Qiang to sprint ahead and delivering a miraculous pass for an easy basket.

That kind of court awareness was monstrous. And the boy was only thirteen!

The Gorilla chuckled again and said, “Aren’t you going to get on the court? I have a feeling your record is about to be broken.”

Zhu Bo smiled, eyes burning with fighting spirit, but replied with feigned ease, “I don’t think they’ve got what it takes.”

On the court, the five freshmen high-fived, each one newly inspired by Lin Nan’s dazzling play. In him, they saw the glimmer of victory, their spirits soaring. They too wanted to make history—especially by besting those who had made history before them.

Only Li Qing stood bewildered, struggling to process what had just happened. He soon got the story from his teammates—the ball had actually been intercepted by Lin Nan! Li Qing glanced at Luo Si, whose helpless expression seemed to say, Believe me now?

Off the court, Liu Zihan silently cried out in his heart: Why isn’t it me out there in the spotlight? Why isn’t it me?

...

The second quarter resumed.

Li Qing continued to orchestrate the offense, but faced with the freshmen’s zone defense, and with Jiu Wu reinforcing the middle, the seniors were forced to rely on outside shots. Perhaps Lin Nan’s recent heroics had crushed their morale; the seniors’ shooting was off, and their percentage plummeted.

Li Qing had no choice but to try working the ball inside to get closer to the basket and find open looks to improve their accuracy. But that’s the bane of the zone defense—drive inside, and you get swarmed. Without exceptional individual skill, there’s no way to score.

What’s more, the freshmen were playing with boundless energy, defending tightly and giving up no easy opportunities.

As time went on, the seniors’ offense spiraled into a deadlock. No one stepped up to break the cycle and score.

In contrast, the freshmen kept racking up points. Lin Nan, facing Li Qing’s defense, showed no fear. He executed turn-around jumpers, change-of-direction jumpers, step-backs—all with practiced ease and a respectable shooting percentage.

Li Qing, rattled by Lin Nan’s relentless scoring, grew increasingly anxious and made more mistakes, forcing his teammates to double up on Lin Nan.

Normally, Li Qing’s defense was solid. But basketball is a game where momentum and spirit matter as much as skill. You can get scored on, but you can’t lose your nerve or collapse.

Against double and triple teams, Lin Nan wisely chose not to force the issue, instead spacing the floor, finding open teammates, and dishing the ball at the perfect moment.

Especially under the basket, Jiu Wu was unstoppable without two or three defenders on him. But that left Lin Nan unguarded.

Thus, the entire rhythm of the second quarter belonged to the freshmen.

At the buzzer, the score stood at 46 to 26. The gap was back to twenty points.

As the teams came off the court, Wang Jinsong saw Liu Zihan approaching, ready to say something, but he quickly addressed the group first: “We’ll keep the same five in for the third quarter. We’re working well together—let’s keep pushing, and we’ll sub out once we’re tired.”

Everyone agreed. Seeing this, Liu Zihan could only swallow his words.

All the freshmen crowded around Lin Nan, peppering him with questions about how he’d gotten so good.

Lin Nan answered sincerely, “Just practice every day.”

Everyone assumed he was giving a casual answer, certain that such skill could only be due to innate talent. Little did they know, Lin Nan truly meant it—“every day” had lasted a full year for him.

Off to the side, Liu Zihan once again cried out inside: Why am I not the one in the center of the crowd? Why is reality so different from what I imagined?

...

On the other side, Zhu Bo walked over and patted Li Qing on the shoulder. Seeing his dejected look, Zhu Bo said, “Don’t be discouraged. Lin Nan really is strong— even the Gorilla thinks so. It’s alright, get some rest. I’ll take the third quarter.”

Li Qing glanced at the PE teacher, who nodded at him, helping him regain his composure.

Zhu Bo then called the team together; they gathered, but their faces were downcast. Being schooled by the freshmen for an entire quarter was a bitter pill to swallow.

Zhu Bo clapped his hands loudly and declared, “Let’s not forget—we were the first team to make basketball history at Qingshui No. 1 High!”

His words rekindled a spark in his teammates’ eyes.

Xigua was the first to speak: “But Jiu Wu is really tall. I barely reach his chest, and he’s only a freshman! What did he eat to grow like that?”

Xigua, standing only 173 centimeters, loved basketball but was always hampered by his height. His stocky build earned him the nickname “Watermelon.”

Luo Si added, “And Lin Nan—he’s crazy fast, a great passer, solid skills, unbelievable bounce. He doesn’t seem to have any weaknesses.”

Zhu Bo nodded at their words, but then flashed a confident grin. “I’ll guard Lin Nan in the third quarter. Also, we’re ditching the zone—we’re switching to full-court press!”