Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Semifinals (Part Three)-Reborn as a Father Again(The Glass Forest)

The second quarter began.

Yangcheng High School had possession. As soon as they stepped onto the court, Wang Shiying found an opportunity inside the three-point line and calmly sank a jump shot, narrowing the deficit to single digits.

Jiangyuan High School’s tactics remained unchanged, with Tiramisu still orchestrating from beyond the arc, seeking an opening to shoot. Except for Harik, the other three constantly ran off the ball outside the three-point line, always ready to catch and shoot.

But what they hadn’t anticipated was that Yangcheng High School had switched from zone defense to man-to-man. Each Jiangyuan player now found a Yangcheng defender sticking to them, leaving no room for open threes.

Wang Shiying was especially relentless, shadowing Tiramisu every step. Even when Harik set a screen for him, another Yangcheng defender would immediately rush over to help, while the rest switched assignments without hesitation, never allowing Jiangyuan a clean look from deep.

Yangcheng’s teamwork shone at this moment—they hardly missed a single Jiangyuan player.

From the commentator’s booth, Su Qun praised, “Yangcheng’s defensive coordination is superb. With the shot clock winding down, Jiangyuan’s players just can’t shake off these defenders who stick to them like shadows.”

Just as Su Qun said, Tiramisu soon realized this himself. After a difficult cut, he received a pass but found Wang Shiying instantly in his face. With time expiring, he had no choice but to attempt a hurried three, only for Wang Shiying to block the shot decisively.

In an instant, the stands filled with fans from East China erupted in wild cheers:

“Wang Shiying!”

Having successfully defended, Yangcheng pressed their advantage and calmly scored another basket, narrowing the gap from eight to six points.

Coach Abuda of Jiangyuan High School remained unruffled on the sidelines, confident that Tiramisu would adjust.

As expected, when it was Jiangyuan’s turn to attack, Tiramisu no longer fixated on three-pointers. With Wang Shiying still crowding him defensively, Tiramisu executed a convincing hesitation move, tricked Wang Shiying, and exploded toward the basket.

Yangcheng’s defenders, still entangled with their marks at the three-point line, left only Su Yuxiang inside.

Closing in, Tiramisu faced the “clumsy” big man without panic. He faked, sending Su Yuxiang off balance, then spun the other way and finished with a beautiful reverse layup.

Not to be outdone, the stands filled with fans from the West China region thundered with their own cheers:

“Tiramisu!”

The margin immediately returned to eight points.

Coach Abuda flashed a knowing smile, everything proceeding as he had planned. What he couldn’t see, however, was Coach Xiao Ran on the opposite bench, wearing an equally brilliant smile.

The contest continued.

Yangcheng stuck to their steady two-point offense—either driving to the basket or taking close jump shots, rarely wasting a possession.

Jiangyuan High School, meanwhile, kept searching for three-point opportunities, but Yangcheng’s defenders clung to them like their lives depended on it. Jiangyuan found no open looks from deep.

Proving flexible, Jiangyuan began attacking the paint, opting for layups or close jumpers, taking advantage of Yangcheng’s perimeter-heavy defense which left only Su Yuxiang inside. The defensive stance for guarding threes wasn’t ideal for stopping drives, so Jiangyuan’s two-pointers were largely uncontested and reliable.

Thus, throughout the second quarter, the teams traded baskets, the difference hovering between six and eight points.

Coach Abuda grew perplexed by Yangcheng’s intentions. After all, this kind of aggressive perimeter defense was extremely taxing on the defenders’ stamina, while the attackers expended far less energy.

Anyone with a basic understanding of basketball could see it. For example, when Tiramisu tried to shoot a three, Harik would screen for him. Wang Shiying, caught by the screen, would fall behind, and so Yang Wendong would rotate over to help. The man Yang Wendong was originally covering would be left open, prompting another defender to rotate. As a result, two or three Jiangyuan players forced four or five Yangcheng defenders to chase them, often covering more ground than their opponents.

To the spectators, the transitions were thrilling—Jiangyuan’s players constantly moving without the ball, Yangcheng’s defenders hustling tirelessly. But in reality, the energy expenditure was far greater for Yangcheng.

When Yangcheng’s players came off the court for rest, they were visibly exhausted, while Jiangyuan’s substitutes looked much fresher.

Coach Abuda pondered for several minutes, unable to figure out Yangcheng’s real strategy. He could only stick to his plan and wait.

At the start of the third quarter, Abuda suddenly noticed that, aside from Wang Shiying and Su Yuxiang, Yangcheng had swapped out their other three starters.

A sense of foreboding crept over him.

His fears were soon confirmed. Minutes into the third quarter, he saw that the three Yangcheng substitutes were not inferior to the starters. Their defensive tenacity was just as fierce, sticking to Jiangyuan’s shooters relentlessly.

It was a revolving-door defense.

Coach Abuda let out a bitter smile. He had pressed Jiangyuan’s advantage to the limit, but Yangcheng had done the same with theirs—being the strongest “elite camp” in high school basketball.

Now, Abuda understood: Yangcheng’s true strength wasn’t just Wang Shiying, the top-ranked player, but that they had fourteen players who were each “half a Wang Shiying.”

Faced with this open and ruthless tactic, all he could do was hope his grassland sons could endure the final two quarters.

Like the previous period, the teams continued trading twos. Tiramisu and his teammates did not let Abuda down, and by the end of the third quarter, the difference was back to double digits—ten points.

Coach Xiao Ran of Yangcheng, however, remained calm, seeing that Jiangyuan’s five starters were utterly spent. Coach Abuda, too, recognized that his team had reached their limits and risked collapse if they continued. He resolutely denied their pleas to play in the fourth quarter, sending in the substitutes instead.

Xiao Ran smiled.

Not every bench was as deep as Yangcheng’s.

The fourth quarter began.

Yangcheng switched gears, from the passive defense of the previous three quarters to an aggressive, fast-paced offense. Each possession was swift and decisive: quick inbound, rapid transition, lightning score.

Despite Jiangyuan’s efforts, their substitutes simply couldn’t match up. The disparity in ability was glaring.

On defense, Yangcheng pressed full-court, sowing chaos among Jiangyuan’s ranks, making it nearly impossible for them to organize an effective offense, let alone score.

Witnessing this, Luo Si and others in the VIP box felt a chill. They were reminded of their own first encounter with Lingnan High School—the resemblance was uncanny. On the basketball court, strength spoke for itself; if you weren’t as good as your opponent, you could only watch helplessly as they scored on you.

In just a few possessions, Yangcheng erased the ten-point deficit and was poised to take the lead.

Tiramisu, with several starters, approached Coach Abuda, pleading, “Coach, let us play! Please!”

Abuda looked at his players, their faces still wet with sweat despite just having been wiped. He knew their strength hadn’t returned. Yet, the fire in their eyes told him they were just one step away from the championship stage—they would never be content sitting out now.

With difficulty, Abuda called for a timeout.

Tiramisu and the starting five dragged their weary bodies back onto the court.

The familiar struggle resumed, the scoreline seesawing between zero and two points.

With a dazzling change of direction, Tiramisu shook off the equally exhausted Wang Shiying and drove hard to the basket.

Su Yuxiang, still in good condition, stepped up for a big block, knowing that Tiramisu was now running on fumes.

But Tiramisu, defying expectations, still managed a high leap, attempting to score over him.

Su Yuxiang naturally reached out to contest.

Smack—a clear sound rang out.

Su Yuxiang got a hand on the ball but also hit Tiramisu’s hand. Disrupted mid-air, Tiramisu fought to steady his shot, summoning every last ounce of strength to adjust his angle.

At the very last moment before landing, he flung the ball toward the hoop.

Everyone watched as the ball rolled around the rim and finally dropped through the net.

“He scored!”

“A crucial and-one!”

Yang Yi shouted passionately into the microphone.

The stands from the West China region exploded again:

“Tiramisu!”

Yet, in the next moment, everyone saw Tiramisu collapse in pain, clutching his right calf.

Medical staff rushed over—one look told them it was a cramp. They quickly straightened his leg and began treatment.

The doctor whispered to Tiramisu, “You can’t play anymore. Your body is too tired—if you keep going, the cramping will only get worse.”

But the young man from the grasslands shook his head stubbornly and resolutely.

The doctor said nothing further, knowing he couldn’t persuade him. As he left, he made a fist and said, “Good luck!”

Tiramisu stood up and limped to the free-throw line.

All eyes in the arena were on the young man at the stripe.

He bounced the ball twice, found his rhythm, and shot decisively.

Swish.

The ball went through the net, untouched.

Yang Yi announced, “The gap is now three points, with four minutes remaining.”

Tiramisu smiled, then hurried to retreat on defense.

But as the doctor had predicted, the moment he pushed off with his calf, he collapsed in pain again.

The medical staff raced over, helped him recover, and forcibly took him off the court, warning sternly, “If you keep cramping, you might never play basketball again!”

Hearing this, Tiramisu left the court unwillingly, sitting on the sideline to rest.

A few minutes later, Jiangyuan’s exhausted remaining players could do nothing to stop Yangcheng from tying and then overtaking them.

At last, the final whistle sounded.

Yangcheng High School became the first team to reach the National High School Basketball League finals.

Wang Shiying and his teammates embraced, cheering with excitement.

The East China stands roared in jubilation.

Yang Yi added into the microphone, “Let’s congratulate Yangcheng High School on reaching the finals, and thank Jiangyuan High School for giving us such a splendid game!”

As the camera lingered on Tiramisu’s heartbroken face, Yang Yi couldn’t help but add, “Next year, you still have hope!”

Lin Nan and the others from Qingshui First High watched the tearful Jiangyuan players, their own fists tightening.

They were determined never to taste such bitter defeat again.