Chapter 55: Seishui vs. Lingnan (Part Four)

He was going to dunk!

Lin Nan believed that only a dunk could reignite his teammates’ spirits and bring a sliver of hope for victory. Honestly, he could dunk, but he’d never done it in an actual game. Today, though, he had to try.

Dribbling with his left hand, Lin Nan gestured to Jiu Wu and Screw under the basket with his right, signaling them to clear out. Though they didn’t know what he was planning, they obeyed his command. The defenders from Lingnan High under the basket, curious about what trick Lin Nan might pull off next, also moved away, following Jiu Wu and Screw.

Now, between Lin Nan and the basket, only Luo Zhan stood in his way.

Everyone on the court watched their one-on-one showdown. Luo Zhan settled into a defensive stance; with the match practically in the bag, there was no way he’d refuse a one-on-one challenge—it would look like he was afraid.

This was exactly what Lin Nan wanted. If there were other defenders under the hoop, they’d surely disrupt his jump; with his current explosiveness, pulling off a dunk over someone was far beyond his ability.

He stared at Luo Zhan, the 188-centimeter-tall captain of Lingnan. Lin Nan gave a slight feint left with the ball, then pulled it back. Luo Zhan shifted with him, regaining his defensive position. But before Luo Zhan could fully regain his balance, Lin Nan faked left again—this time with a much bigger motion, as if he were about to explode past him.

Forced by Lin Nan’s move, Luo Zhan shifted left, his balance not fully recovered. No one expected what happened next—Lin Nan, leveraging his extraordinary athleticism and feel for the game, wrenched his body and the ball sharply back the other way.

Luo Zhan’s instincts told him to recover, but his center of gravity was still off. He stumbled and fell to the floor.

The commentator, Lu Ming, instantly recognized the echoes of a classic moment from a famous highlight reel. Though he’d graduated from Lingnan himself, this time he couldn’t help but narrate the scene with excitement:

“My god, what did I just see? That was Iverson’s signature move!”

“Lin Nan of Qingshui No.1 High just broke Luo Zhan of Lingnan High’s ankles!”

“Yes! You heard that right—he made him fall!”

After shouting these words, Lu Ming felt a surge of exhilaration. Hearing the roar of the crowd, he continued, “What a pity Luo Zhan isn’t Jordan, but Lin Nan already shows the makings of AI.”

He expected Lin Nan would finish the play with a perfect jump shot, just like Iverson did back then. But Lin Nan instead stormed straight for the basket. Reaching his takeoff spot, he bent his knees, arched his waist, and exploded upward with all his might.

In midair, his body stretched out, his grip on the ball shifting from both hands to just his right.

And then—a thunderous “bang!”

The ball was slammed through the rim with all Lin Nan’s force. He hung from the basket with one hand, suspended in midair like a silent warrior—undaunted by the might of his enemies, never retreating, never giving up.

Lu Ming stood stunned.

The audience was stunned.

The players and coaches from both Qingshui No.1 and Lingnan High were stunned.

Was that a dunk? A dunk after breaking someone’s ankles?

How many years had it been since a yellow-skinned player had pulled off such an explosive dunk?

In Chinese basketball, dunks were rare, and for a point guard? Almost unheard of. But to break someone’s ankles and follow it up with such a graceful, seamless dunk—this, they had never seen.

Screams, shouts, roars—

In the next instant, the entire arena erupted.

Somewhere, a young man watching the game on TV leapt from his bed, landing so hard that his girlfriend was startled.

“Are you crazy?”

He didn’t even look at her, eyes glued to the screen.

Scenes like this were playing out all across the country.

This is the magic of basketball! This is the power of sport!

Once, only the NBA could make people’s hearts race like this. Now, a homegrown player could too—and he was just a freshman in high school!

They were lucky.

Almost everyone who witnessed that electrifying moment made a silent promise: they would watch all of Lin Nan’s games from now on—they were fans.

Back on the court, Lin Nan released the rim and landed. He hadn’t expected his sequence of moves to flow so perfectly. For a moment, he truly felt as if he’d been possessed by Iverson.

His teammates, after a brief daze, rushed over to embrace him.

They hadn’t expected Lin Nan to be so strong, so relentless. How could they, who had only held the team back, not give their all now? The fire of determination was rekindled in each of their eyes.

The Lingnan High players looked on with respect—they now understood just how strong Lin Nan was.

Only their captain, having gotten up and turned around to witness Lin Nan’s dunk, stood rooted, dazed, his eyes vacant, lost in thought.

Lingnan’s coach recovered quickly and immediately subbed Luo Zhan out for another senior backup point guard.

After a while, the game resumed.

Lingnan’s players fought even harder—zone defense, double teams, moving off the ball, crashing the boards. All five were set on widening the score and securing the win, leaving Lin Nan no more chances for one-on-ones.

Qingshui No.1’s players, though filled with fighting spirit and high morale, gritted their teeth to help the team score. But their physical ability and fundamentals were what they were—they couldn’t leap in skill just by getting fired up.

Every great moment on the court is forged through countless days of practice and a surge of potential at just the right time. Like Kobe’s 81 points, or McGrady’s 13 points in 35 seconds.

It’s never luck or coincidence—it’s a display of true ability.

A desperate outburst may let you break through your peak a little further, but it won’t turn a rookie into a master overnight.

So after a brief resistance, Qingshui No.1’s players were steadily suppressed once more.

Even though Lin Nan gritted his teeth and made several more spectacular baskets, it was like a drop of water in the desert—futile.

In the end, Qingshui No.1 lost the game.

Ironically, when Lu Ming announced the end, congratulating Lingnan High on their victory, crowds of young people in the stands rushed toward Qingshui No.1’s exit. Everyone wanted a closer look at Lin Nan.

Meanwhile, the victors from Lingnan didn’t cluster together to celebrate. This was just a regular season game—a win didn’t mean much. In fact, though they’d beaten Qingshui, they’d lost to Lin Nan himself.

As for Lin Nan, focus of every gaze, he didn’t look as happy as everyone imagined.

All he knew was that his team had lost. Seeing the twenty-something point gap on the scoreboard left him with a bitter taste. He wasn’t smug about his highlight moment, nor did he wallow in frustration over the loss.

Like a stubborn fledgling eagle, his talent just beginning to show, he sulked over his first failed hunt.

What a tenacious youth!

On the bus back to school, Lin Nan sat in silence, and naturally, so did everyone else. All they could think about was getting back to training—practicing until the dorms closed.

Coach Gorilla was at a loss for words as well—he realized just how little he’d contributed to this game. Without Lin Nan, the defeat would have been even more humiliating.

What they didn’t know was this: after they left the gym, the event organizers’ executives were scolding the staff.

“Why weren’t there reporters ready for interviews? Don’t you know Lin Nan’s already gone viral online? He’s outshining Wang Shiying! And you just let him leave!”

Staff were left speechless.

Someone had even clipped Lin Nan’s highlight moment and posted it on foreign social media.

Immediately, comments appeared:

xxxx: Am I seeing shades of Iverson?

xxxx: My god, is this guy Asian?

xxxx: He looks like a high schooler!

xxxx: Another Linsanity?

xxxx: Too bad the defender was too weak!

xxxx: What, you wanted Jordan to guard him? Hahaha!

...

Back at school, as soon as they got off the bus, they saw the principal waiting at the gate.

Zheng Zemin had thought they’d be elated—after all, even though they lost, the TV showed crowds cheering for them.

Instead, not only did Zhu Bo and the others look gloomy, even Lin Nan didn’t look happy.

Lin Nan’s performance on the court had nearly sent the principal’s blood pressure through the roof.

Zheng Zemin addressed Zhu Bo and the others first: “Now you see the gap, don’t you? You’re seniors, and you’re still far behind Lin Nan, a freshman. He’s been training morning and night for a year—never missing a day! Even during summer break, he played every afternoon in the square with us!”

“His excellent performance has a reason. Starting tomorrow, you’ll train with Lin Nan—whatever he does, you’ll do too!”

“Ah!” Lin Nan finally spoke up.

“What, you’re not willing?” Zheng Zemin looked at him.

“I am!” Lin Nan shouted, suddenly brightening up.

“And the rest of you?” Zheng Zemin turned to the team.

“We’re all willing!” they answered in unison.

Coach Gorilla smiled—truly, the principal knew how to turn the team’s mood around.

Suddenly, Gorilla thought, maybe he should work on his own coaching skills too. Otherwise, how would he keep up with these players?

He resolved to look up how to become an outstanding basketball coach as soon as he got back.