Chapter Nineteen: To Rule the World of Basketball, One Must Expand New Frontiers

Forming the legendary trio, they became renowned across the court, reigning as its undisputed overlords. Since ancient times, the greatest rulers have been but three, the lesser but countless. Kings seek to rule the world; overlords seek to conquer territory. The basketball court is no different. Perhaps a court can hold eternal memories, but never an eternal monument. The Super Trio’s fame soared to the heavens in but a short while, but could that truly be their dream? Now and again, challengers would step forward, aiming to dethrone them, but all were like mantises trying to stop a chariot—overestimating themselves. From the distant past, this court had rarely seen men above 195 centimeters, and since the age of the overlords, none could match Hong Qi’s speed or shooting.

Territory—this was what they needed.

Their eyes were fixed on the nearby basketball hall, said to be the true arena of masters. The university team practiced there. Though their record in the college league was abysmal, within the confines of the school, they were unmatched. These players were handpicked, training professionally from the moment they entered university. Their skills were beyond question.

But entering that hall cost money—twenty-five yuan an hour. What for? Hong Qi and 195 asked themselves. Wasn’t it the same wherever they played? Wasn’t the challenge simply to test themselves against better players? What was there to gain? Those people were professionals; they were amateurs. The gap was inevitable. Even if their Super Trio was extraordinary among amateurs, the others certainly matched their talent, and their training conditions and intensity were leagues apart.

Yet, for love and passion they persisted. What else did university offer these days? Most classes were skipped, most slept till nine or ten, and when courses were failed, they failed in droves. There was little to strive for. To have no ambition was a kind of happiness, but also a sorrow.

Upon entering, everything felt strange—even dribbling on the polished floor felt unnatural. Approaching the empty hoop, Hong Qi, 195, and Rough Guy all took shots. The professionals were just finishing up; usually the court opened to outsiders only after team practice.

Hong Qi stepped up and hit a three-pointer, then picked up another ball and made five in a row. People began to notice. 195 was still warming up, but after a while, he grabbed the ball and executed a thunderous dunk. Still, no one paid much heed to these amateurs.

Rough Guy couldn’t help himself and shouted, “Anyone up for a game? Let’s play!” The others looked at this oddball—his hulking frame, shouting like a child.

On the other side of the court, two players looked over and slowly dribbled their way across. They seemed about the same height as 195.

“New here, aren’t you?” one asked.

Rough Guy grinned. “Yeah, we’re freshmen.”

“Oh! Want to play?” His tone was slightly mocking.

“Sure, let’s play.”

“Two against three?” Now the contempt was blatant.

How could these kings of their own court tolerate such disdain? Fury burned within them. How could they be so dismissive? But Hong Qi only smiled calmly. 195 glanced at him and smiled as well. Let them boast now; soon enough, we’ll wipe that smirk away.

“You’d better call someone else,” they suggested.

The two scanned the sidelines, where a girl happened to be arriving. “Hey, beautiful, want to join us?” one called.

She replied, “Sure.” Judging by her tone, she seemed to know those two. She was about 170 centimeters, tall and slender, dressed in sportswear, her complexion fair and bright, with straight hair—a sight that immediately put people at ease.

The Super Trio said nothing, merely watching and waiting. Watching, to see what these two arrogant players would do; waiting, to see how they’d embarrass themselves.

The game began. Hong Qi had no desire to be matched up with the girl and moved idly about. She, noticing his lack of effort, tossed up a shot in that playfully pampered way girls sometimes do—but it fell wide. She giggled, an enchanting sight, her smile transforming her completely—some girls, with just a change of expression, seem to become otherworldly beauties.

Everyone looked at her. Indeed, she was charming, her coyness tinged with innocence and shyness with a touch of sweetness—enough to captivate any onlooker.

Now those two, Rough Guy, and 195 all grew eager—what a chance to impress! The match was more two-on-two than anything, as Hong Qi only went through the motions.

First, one of the two executed a spin move, then leaped for a ferocious dunk—a tomahawk slam, brimming with dominance. The other followed with a windmill dunk. In truth, they had Rough Guy to thank, for his lack of speed left him unable to keep up—it seemed both were guards.

Rough Guy was thoroughly outclassed, but 195 could hold his own, trading blows with them. Still, overall, Hong Qi and 195 were at a disadvantage.

This didn’t feel like a real match; rather, it seemed a performance for the beautiful girl’s sake.

Suddenly, one of the two said to her, “Just toss it up, we’ve got the rebounds.”

She glanced at Lin Fei—a boy who could hardly be called handsome, but radiated a sunny disposition, though his eyes held a trace of arrogance and melancholy. “Why aren’t you playing seriously?” she asked.

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

She laughed. “Can’t you be careful?”

“Even if I tried, I’m just not used to playing with girls.”

She smiled, a little embarrassed.

“You guys play two-on-two; I’m a bit tired,” she said to the others.

They assumed she wanted to sit and watch, so tried all the harder to impress her. Lin Fei also stepped off, sitting with her at the side.

“Hey, what’s your name? I’m Duan Tingting, business major!”

“Lin Fei, freshman, engineering.”

“Oh! No wonder I haven’t seen you around.”

“How’s your basketball? Are those your classmates?”

“No, just court acquaintances.”

“You’re pretty good! Already making a name for yourself as a freshman—how are you finding university?”

“Not much to say—lots of pretty girls.”

“Already picking up bad habits, huh?”

“Do you know your opponents?”

“No.”

“They’re on the department team. Around midterms, there’s always a match—they’re from my department.”

“Oh! Can we make the team?”

“Freshmen rarely do.”

“Think I’ve got a shot?”

Lin Fei picked up the ball and called, “Rough Guy, take a break.” Gasping for air, Rough Guy came off. Now it was 195 and Lin Fei against the two from the department team.

Lin Fei took the ball and, right in front of two players as tall as 195, pulled up for a jumper. He had the right to be confident—his release was lightning-quick, a nickname like Hong Qi perhaps owing to the speed and economy of his motion. But this time, as the ball hung in the air, one of the team players leapt and brushed it with his fingertips—the shot missed. 195 grabbed the rebound and finished with a frog-style dunk. The two team players noticed that this new guy was a step up from Rough Guy—they’d met their match.

They got serious. At the three-point line, one crouched low over the ball and accelerated. Lin Fei stepped back to keep up, but the other’s strength was overwhelming. He drove straight at Lin Fei, whose backpedaling led to a blocking foul—he was knocked aside, but the tall player wasn’t fazed, finishing with a dunk reminiscent of Hanamichi Sakuragi.

Lin Fei steeled himself. If I can’t stop you, I’ll score right in your face.

After 195 grabbed another rebound and passed it to him, Lin Fei stepped back, rose, and shot—a picture-perfect jumper. The ball dropped cleanly through the net.

So it went, two on two—a roughly 60-40 split, with Lin Fei’s side at a slight disadvantage.

195 grew tired and subbed out. “Let’s rest.” Lin Fei seemed reluctant, but the department player called out, “How about a one-on-one?”

Lin Fei glanced over, gritted his teeth, and agreed.

Truth be told, Lin Fei knew he was at a disadvantage—height was against him, and the other had both guard skills and post moves, while Lin Fei excelled in chaotic games—his long-range shooting and speed made him peerless in scrambles, but in one-on-one, his power was greatly diminished. Still, he accepted the challenge.

They squared off. The tall player posted up; Lin Fei had no answer. When Lin Fei dribbled, stopped, or spun for a shot, the department player was equally stymied.

They played to a near draw. On the final shot, Lin Fei missed. The other gained possession, posted up again. Lin Fei braced against his waist, but the opponent pivoted, shuffling towards the basket. In the NBA, this would be illegal—there are time limits on post-ups, a rule supposedly invented for Charles Barkley, whose tank-like style involved backing down opponents with his massive frame before scoring. Under the rim, the department player spun, leapt, and, despite Lin Fei’s best jump, the difference in height and timing was too great. A two-handed dunk—nearly right over Lin Fei.

Lin Fei was humiliated.

Everyone faces such moments, but it was Lin Fei’s first time being bested one-on-one. He fell silent.

In the end, the Super Trio had lost.

They had come to this court, but it did not belong to them. It was like a war to conquer new lands, but the Super Trio had not triumphed.

Unwilling! Unwilling!

He recalled the end of "Ashes of Time": Hong Qi and his wife wandering the world—who said it couldn’t be done? Beyond the mountain lies another mountain, but you’ll never know unless you try. If you don’t defeat them, you’ll never know the taste of victory, though even if you do, someone greater still awaits.

Tomorrow? Lin Fei was about to become a madman. Like a martial artist entering demonic cultivation—this was the peak before the final breakthrough!