Chapter Twenty-One: Rare Are the Matches When the Ball Finds Its Equal

Some people, once missed, are lost for a lifetime; some opportunities, once missed, are lost forever as well.

Lin Fei had once found 195, but to this day, he still wasn’t entirely sure of 195’s name. There had been no explanation, no grand gestures; perhaps that was already the answer. Everyone has their own path—no one else was willing to act like Lin Fei, to be branded a madman, not knowing what he was doing, nor how others saw him. Lin Fei and 195 might be considered friends, though it was a kind of friendship that words could never express.

After Lin Fei’s bout of madness, the world felt particularly lonely. He went to the court he frequented, watching the bustling crowd. He knew that among them, he no longer had rivals—he didn’t even have teammates anymore. As the saying goes, “If the path diverges, there’s no point in planning together.” When the level differs too greatly, it’s hard to play together—just as people from vastly different backgrounds struggle to get along.

Lin Fei quietly closed his eyes. It was as if the entire court existed in his mind—every position, every height, an intricate three-dimensional map. Even without his eyes, Lin Fei felt he could still make the shot.

Night fell. It was pitch black; the streetlights were few and far between. The sound of the ball echoed rhythmically. If you were an expert, you’d know it was Lin Fei: the one practicing with abandon every night, the one dribbling with rhythm even in the dark, making baskets with the same unerring beat. On this court, only one person could do that—Lin Fei.

A white silhouette approached the court, step by step. The strides were small, yet light and graceful, exuding a unique elegance. The figure seemed ethereal, the posture delicate and poised. A sliver of streetlight illuminated her face and hair—if tinged with a bit of blush, she’d be like a spring breeze caressing the threshold; with a hint of coolness, she’d be as pure as ice and snow. Even without embellishment, she was captivating enough to topple a city with a smile.

She sat at the edge of the court, propped her chin up, and stared dazedly across the court, lost in thought.

Lin Fei acted as if no one was there, continuing to dribble and shoot, though his movements slowed just a little. He couldn’t help but notice the girl’s stillness—anyone would be curious.

Yet Lin Fei pretended there was no one else around, though he couldn’t help but wonder about the girl. Was she beautiful? Nursing a broken heart? Perhaps she knew he was playing and had come to watch—could someone be secretly in love with him? As his thoughts ran wild, his playing slowed even more. The feeling was gone.

The girl sat there for about half an hour, then walked over. Lin Fei’s heart raced with excitement. Many called him a basketball fanatic, but he was certain he wasn’t crazy around girls. Who was she?

“Hey, can I join you for a game?” she asked when she was still about five meters away. Her voice sounded familiar—gentle, yet mature.

Before Lin Fei could see her clearly, she had already come closer.

A beauty! Absolutely stunning!

Why did she seem so familiar?

Duan Tingting! It was Duan Tingting! The same girl he’d matched up against the other day. Back then, she’d been in sportswear; tonight she wore a white T-shirt, looking delicate and fresh, a completely different aura from before.

“Heh, we meet again, Senior!”

“You?” She managed a faint smile, though she couldn’t quite hide her unhappiness.

“Ha, do you remember my name? I’m Lin Fei. Right now, I go by the nicknames ‘Madman’ and ‘Hong Qi.’ Which do you prefer?”

Her smile grew a little more genuine. “I’m Duan Tingting. A lot of people call me TT. You can call me TT-jie, or just T-jie if that’s easier. Just don’t call me Senior—I’d rather be the junior, honestly.” She laughed.

Lin Fei loved girls like this—quick to adjust their mood, easy to make happy, with a discerning eye. If only she could add a touch of playful charm, she’d be perfect.

“All right, I’ll call you TT then!”

“You really will, huh?”

“Of course! I mean what I say!” Lin Fei felt suddenly delighted—to be chatting with a beautiful girl on the court so late at night, and one he already knew at that.

“Do you come out to play every night?”

In truth, Lin Fei was here almost every night, but didn’t want to admit it—saying so would only prove he was a basketball nut.

He shrugged it off. “Not really, I just come by when I have free time.” For a long time, he’d wanted to ask, “Why are you here so late?” But he kept it to himself—that’s what tactful guys do.

“Ah! I’m glad—at least there’s someone here tonight. For some reason, I just feel down today.”

“Heh, everyone has their low moments. Me too! But once it passes, everything’s fine again.”

“You’re pretty good at comforting people! Do you have a girlfriend?”

Lin Fei’s heart skipped a beat. With an awkward smile, he replied, “Who would want to be with someone like me?”

She laughed. “You may not be handsome, but you’ve got style! How could you not have anyone? Let me give you some advice: When you’re a senior, the easiest way is to look for a junior. You know, ‘the moon is closest to the water’s edge’—get it?”

“Heh, let me guess, that’s how you did it? With someone as beautiful as you, I bet there’s a long line of admirers.”

She grinned. “You’re a sharp one! Have you found someone you like? I think it’s best to find the right person in your freshman year.”

Lin Fei actually smiled with a touch of boyish shyness.

“Hey, do you still go to the gym? The department tournament’s coming up soon. Didn’t you lose to that guy last time? You’ll probably meet again on the court!”

Lin Fei’s heart trembled. So we’ll meet again! The chance would come—he’d waited so long for this moment.

“Let’s play for a while longer!” Duan Tingting looked at him with wide, clear eyes—so pure Lin Fei couldn’t refuse. She continued, “You seem pretty skilled at dribbling. Can you teach me?”

“Sure! As long as you’ve got some talent! I don’t like teaching slow learners!”

“You’re calling me slow? How about we play a few games? Last time, you didn’t defend me! I don’t think you were serious, and I didn’t go all out either.”

“Let’s do it,” he agreed.

So they really did go one-on-one—a master with wind-like dribbling and flawless shooting, and a girl as lovely as spring, bright and fresh. Who would come out on top?

In the darkness, only the sound of the ball could be heard. This was their world now—a world for just two people, their hearts beating in tandem. Was this what it meant to be soulmates on the court?

As the saying goes, “With a kindred spirit, a thousand cups of wine are too few.” Could it be that with a soulmate on the court, a thousand games wouldn’t be enough? Play on, play on—on this court, the game would never end!