Chapter Twenty-Four: A Ruthless Strike Is the Best Response

The cheers of victory could not drown out the mocking of those two who could fly, at least not in Lin Fei’s heart. The only way to vindicate himself and his department team was clear: defeat them. And as luck would have it, two days later, they would face the department that included those two men—the Mathematics and Physics Department.

Lin Fei had already heard about them. On the school team, they were just substitutes—players who almost never got on the court. So, the last time Lin Fei and his teammates went to watch, though the others had already finished training and left, these two showed no signs of fatigue. It was precisely because they rarely played on the school team that they had energy to spare. Yet, the mere title of "school team" was enough for them to flaunt themselves outside, even if, within the team, they were nothing more than water boys—utterly insignificant.

But after that match, Lin Fei proved his tactical acumen and scoring ability, securing his place as the absolute hero of his department team. The day after the game, at practice, Lin Fei was utterly exhausted. The day before, he’d played almost the entire game. During deadlocks, he had to step up and score; when trailing, he had to close the gap; and when leading, he had to press the advantage and crush the opponents’ hopes.

Now, Cui Yong mostly followed Lin Fei’s tactical commands and explanations. There were still a few others who didn’t quite accept Lin Fei’s authority—after all, he was a junior, a rookie who had just joined the team. But Cui Yong silenced those voices. In his heart, he fully respected this younger teammate.

There’s one thing that cannot be overlooked: Lin Fei scored 32 points in his first match, making him the top scorer in the school. With this title came a burden, just as he felt the weight of leading his department to fight for the championship.

Duanting approached him, her eyes shining. “Wow, I never thought you’d be this amazing! I’m a true fan of yours now, haha! You wouldn’t even play against me that evening, and you even let me win on purpose—look at you!”

He laughed, “How could I compare to you, Senior? With your ball-handling skills, you could mesmerize half the court’s men. Who’d dare beat you? They’d get mobbed for sure, haha!”

“I like the way you talk. So, is it you treating me to dinner, or am I treating you?”

“How should we decide that?”

“I’ll treat you—because you helped the department team win. I’m the cheerleading captain and the publicity officer, so treating you is like a celebration. On the other hand, you should treat me too, because you joined the department team and became the top scorer. You’re going to be a big name around here—having a few girlfriends will be no problem for you!”

He chuckled, “Senior, you really have a way with words!”

“That’s right, people say my words are sweeter than my singing, and I look even better than you’d imagine.”

“Senior, you’re truly my idol.”

“There’s one more thing—you still owe me another dinner.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve told you before, stop calling me ‘Senior’ all the time! And you say it with such gusto!”

“Oh! I’m honored—most people never get the chance to treat you, but I’m lucky enough to buy a beauty dinner.”

She laughed, “Usually, even if someone invited me three times, I wouldn’t go. Eight sedan chairs wouldn’t carry me there. But for you, it’s different.”

“Aren’t you afraid your boyfriend will get jealous if I treat you?”

“He deserves it!” Duanting said this briskly, but hearing it, Lin Fei felt a little uneasy.

He forced a smile, “He deserves it, maybe, but I’m afraid he’ll beat me up!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!”

…

Now, whenever he played at night, Lin Fei found himself thinking of her. Watching couples together always brought her to mind. Even seeing beautiful girls, she would come to his thoughts. Every time he saw her, it made him happy; every conversation was effortless and comfortable. He’d grown sensitive to the words “Tingting” or “TT,” always wondering when he might see her again. Sometimes, before sleeping, he’d recall the moments they’d brushed past each other. That night, Lin Fei wondered if he had fallen for this beautiful, gracious senior.

Tomorrow was the match against the Finance and Taxation Department. Lin Fei told himself, I must prove myself in front of those two arrogant guys. I’ll make them see how they lose to us, and I’ll let TT witness how I defeat them and win the championship.

Other than Lin Fei, no one on the Business Department team really knew those two.

Before the game, Lin Fei told his teammates, “We can’t match them in raw strength; we have to use our heads. Their team’s number 2 and number 5 are on the school team. Senior Cui Yong and I will take responsibility for guarding them. It might be tough for us, but in the other positions, I think we might still stand a chance. Also, we need to speed up ball movement, and remember: accuracy and quickness.”

Cui Yong looked at his junior, who now seemed more like a coach than a teammate.

The game began. Lin Fei stepped up for the jump ball. It was rare for a guard to do this, but Lin Fei’s height and jumping ability were the best on the team—a move born of necessity.

The Math and Physics Department got possession and advanced to just outside the three-point line. Number 2 held the ball, glanced at Lin Fei with a contemptuous “loser” look, and taunted him.

Lin Fei remained calm. This was just a game, and to face someone who could “fly,” he needed a clear head. Number 2 dribbled between his legs, faked right but meant to break left. But his dribble was high, and Lin Fei seized the chance, stole the ball, and dashed down court like a bullet. Number 2 gave chase, as did the others, but Lin Fei was a blur, faster than anyone. He finished with a three-step dunk, turned to glance at Number 2—showing exactly how much faster he was.

The crowd erupted in thunderous applause. Since the Business Department’s first match, Lin Fei had become their idol, drawing fans from across departments, all there to cheer on the new scoring king.

Now, Number 2 and Number 5 felt a chill. Was this guy born to play the full court? In their last half-court duel, Lin Fei’s speed hadn’t been so obvious. But now, the full court was his stage. Or maybe he’d improved rapidly over the past month? People said he was a maniac, running on the track with a ball every day—that was probably why.

They guessed right. It was a combination of both.

Math and Physics attacked again. Number 2 pushed forward, passed to Number 5, who faced Cui Yong, spun, and drove. Number 2 moved into the low post—a giant among the Business Department’s players. Number 5 lobbed it, an ambiguous pass that seemed aimed at the basket but wasn’t. Number 2 boxed out Lin Fei, caught the pass in midair, and finished—Lin Fei could do nothing.

In the next possession, Lin Fei scored another fast-break layup, accounting for all 4 of his team’s points. Math and Physics worked the ball to their shooters, but Lin Fei’s pregame plan had his team collapse into the paint, shrinking Number 2 and Number 5's room inside and forcing them to shoot from range. They still scored sometimes, but their threat was reduced, turning a disadvantaged Business Department into a team that could compete in shooting percentage. Their players were generally smaller and less dominant inside, but shooting was their strength. Lin Fei showed tactical savvy and a feel for the game.

Math and Physics called a timeout, realizing the Business Department was much stronger than expected, especially offensively. They’d underestimated their defense.

After the timeout, they changed defenders on Lin Fei, having Number 2 help out on him. The strategy was clear: whoever guarded Lin Fei would be beaten or shot over, so they put a weaker defender on him and relied on Number 2’s help defense to contain him.

But they were wrong. Lin Fei had anticipated this and increased his passing, shifting the offense away from himself to more off-ball movement and passing among his teammates. The Business Department kept scoring smoothly.

Math and Physics miscalculated; they thought they’d overwhelm the Business Department by halftime. But at the break, the Business Department led 38-36. They had no school team players, but they had Lin Fei.

Lin Fei played the entire first half, as the score was always close—no one could afford to let up. He insisted on playing the whole half. But the second half would be the real battle—what now?

During halftime, Number 2 and Number 5 discussed how to deal with “Hong Qi”—their nickname for him, just as Lin Fei remembered them as “school team” and their numbers.

The second half began. Lin Fei brought up the ball, Number 2 tailing him, but now with Number 5 lurking to his right and another defender to his left—a virtual zone, designed to keep Lin Fei from driving. They were willing to let his teammates shoot, but not him. Now, the Business Department would have to prove their shooting.

Lin Fei organized the attack. Facing this defense, he could create his own shot with a pull-up, but it wasn’t his most reliable weapon.

On the surface, this strategy seemed effective against Lin Fei. He drove hard but struggled to find teammates in good positions. Against Number 2, with the height difference, he had to step aside and alter his shot, often missing. On defense, he was even knocked over by Number 2.

Was it that the opposition was strong, or Lin Fei was weakening? He’d played so long, carrying the team on both offense and defense, exhausting himself.

Midway through the third quarter, Lin Fei asked to be subbed out, as he knew his own limits and when to recover. At this point, Math and Physics led by three.

Lin Fei’s exit led to chaos. The Business Department reverted to an inside attack—a last resort, but it paid off. Math and Physics had focused all their defense on Lin Fei, but now, with unclear responsibilities, the Business Department turned things around.

At the end of the third, unexpectedly, the Business Department had tied the score. Cui Yong understood, and Lin Fei knew even better: the fourth quarter would be tough, and he had to save his strength for the final showdown.

Sure enough, at the start of the fourth, Math and Physics attacked the inside relentlessly, scoring six unanswered points while the Business Department was held scoreless. Lin Fei gritted his teeth, watching, determined not to go in just yet—saving his “good steel for the blade’s edge.”

With five minutes left, the Business Department trailed by eight. Math and Physics, despite their lead, faced a disadvantage: their starters, Number 2 and Number 5, had played the whole game and were visibly fatigued.

During a timeout, Lin Fei checked back in. Amid thunderous applause and chants, he returned to the court—a figure who seemed to fly.

He muttered to himself, “Five minutes. Just hang in there!” His teeth clenched audibly.

In crucial moments, who but him could rise to the occasion? The real Lin Fei had arrived.

Math and Physics immediately reverted to their earlier defensive scheme, but now, the situation was different—Lin Fei was rested, and Number 2 and Number 5 were nearly spent.

Lin Fei took the ball at half court, two meters beyond the three-point line, and launched a jumper, his face set with determination. He believed in himself, and the ball believed in him: it went in. Five points behind.

That shot rattled Math and Physics, while the Business Department surged with renewed vigor. But Number 2 and Number 5 were not ordinary players; they forced the issue, drew a foul on Lin Fei, and made two free throws—showing their own clutch instincts.

After the free throws, Lin Fei quickly pushed the ball up. Number 2 and Number 5 struggled to keep up. Reaching the three-point line, he dished to Cui Yong on the left, who immediately returned the ball. Lin Fei soared for a layup, his hang time finally coming into play—a long, floating shot, and it was good.

The game grew more intense as Lin Fei’s firepower chipped away at the deficit. With 24 seconds left, the game was tied at 76:76. Business Department’s possession. Lin Fei brought the ball up, now needing to control the pace and run down the clock—if they missed, at worst, it would go to overtime.

Number 2 and Number 5 watched Lin Fei like hawks, knowing his shot was most dangerous now. With five seconds left, Lin Fei made his move, accelerating; Number 2 matched his steps, but Lin Fei shook him. Number 5 rotated to help; Lin Fei spun, and Number 2 recovered to block his path. Lin Fei knew he couldn’t drive, so he stepped back, increasing the distance from the hoop. Number 2 closed in, arms wide, trying to be a wall.

Four, three, two—Lin Fei, back to the basket, feinted left; Number 2 moved that way. Lin Fei darted forward, creating separation, but Number 5 was there too. He couldn’t pass. So Lin Fei jumped, spun 180 degrees, and released a shot with an incredible arc toward the basket—swish!

The arena exploded like an atomic blast, a tidal wave of humanity.

A buzzer-beater! A buzzer-beater! In that moment, he was not alone—it was as if the god of basketball had possessed him. It was impossible not to be reminded of Huang Jianxiang’s famous World Cup commentary—truly exhilarating!

The crowd lingered, chanting “MVP! MVP!” again and again.

“Lucky dog!” someone muttered—it was, of course, Number 2. “Just wait till the school team crushes you!”