Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Birth of a Genius

He is a genius! He entered the school basketball team with ease, and not just as an ordinary member but as a star. Yet, no one knows how things will unfold. Many say that Lin Fei has already become a legend, and perhaps he will not seek further challenges, for there is no one left in the school who can match him. Others say—

Two weeks after the finals, Lin Fei’s sprained ankle had almost completely healed. Now, he knew what he needed to do: calm his mind. Since that battle, his popularity had soared, his fame exploded, and with his selection for the school team, he was surrounded by endless buzz. Yet he still had to live, still had to study, and none of these distractions could let him stray from his life’s path. Although he did not know where his future would lead, he was certain that the current situation was not what he wanted.

Ever since the coach had spoken to Lin Fei about basketball, Lin Fei had never felt so close to the NBA, or the CBA; such things had never crossed his mind before, but now they seemed almost within reach.

Suddenly, he felt lonely. In the beginning, after winning a match, he only thought about winning the next one, and the next, one after another, but he had never considered what to do after so many victories. After all, basketball was just a passion in his life.

The next morning, Lin Fei arrived at the gymnasium early, dribbling around the court several times before the other players came in one by one. The coach was the last to appear.

The coach opened with, “I’m introducing a new teammate today. I suppose you all know who it is?” The players exchanged glances. Lin Fei smiled, but sensed from their reactions that he was not exactly welcome. That was hardly surprising—Lin Fei had almost single-handedly defeated the entire school team in that match, and for the past two weeks, his name had been a nightmare for them. Whenever someone mentioned him, it felt as if they were slapping the team’s face. “Lin Fei,” “Hong Qi”—these names had become synonyms for strength, while “Are you on the school team?” seemed almost like an insult. It was like mocking Chinese soccer: two children arguing, one says, “You’re a fool!” The other retorts, “You’re on the Chinese soccer team!” The first, enraged, replies, “You’re on the Chinese soccer team, your brother’s on the Chinese soccer team, your whole family’s on the Chinese soccer team.”

The coach continued, “Once, you were opponents on the court. Now, you are teammates. I hope you will unite, strive together, and bring glory to our school.” Some polite words are necessary, even from a man of action.

During warm-up, the coach told the players to follow their usual routines, then called Lin Fei aside. “You haven’t had any systematic training, have you?”

“No, all my skills are self-taught,” Lin Fei replied.

“Oh? How do you usually train?”

“Every day, I run a few laps around the track with a ball, sprint with the ball for a hundred meters to practice speed and acceleration, then head to the court and shoot a hundred three-pointers to develop my touch. Finally, I practice a few dunks to stretch my strength and hang time.” Lin Fei spoke lightly, as if it was nothing.

But the coach was dumbfounded, thinking to himself, How much exercise does this kid do every day?

“Oh, you train so much every day—it’s no wonder you’ve reached this level. Alright! Now that you’re on the school team, I want to see your fundamentals. Try dribbling the length of the court.”

Lin Fei took the ball and, without even seeming to breathe hard, ran from one end of the court to the other. The coach timed him, and the result was almost a world record. Lin Fei seemed to run as if it were nothing, showing no exertion.

“What’s your hundred-meter time?”

“Ten point eight seconds.”

“How high can you reach?”

“About three point two meters.”

“What’s your exact height?”

“One eighty-three centimeters.”

“Weight?”

“Seventy-five kilograms.”

“How many pull-ups?”

“Thirty.”

“Bench press?”

“Never measured.”

The more the coach asked, the more excited he became. A player who had achieved this level without any systematic training—if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would never believe it. Could it be that he had encountered a true prodigy? The coach couldn’t help but ask himself.

“You know about the three-point contest, right? Go set up the balls—I want to measure your three-point shooting.” The coach was so excited that his mouth trembled slightly.

Lin Fei set up the balls, and many other players came over to watch.

“When I say go, start shooting. One minute!”

Lin Fei began to shoot, rapid and fluid, as the coach counted each shot. With each one, the coach’s face grew redder, as if he could barely contain his excitement. “Swish”—Lin Fei sank the last shot. Coach Yang Li stopped his stopwatch: fifty seconds. Eyes wide, he saw that Lin Fei had made twenty-one out of twenty-five shots. There were five spots on the court; the first four balls at each spot were worth one point, the last ball worth two, so Lin Fei scored twenty-six points. Even in the NBA, no one was this insane. The rapid rhythm of his shooting, the smooth and high arcs of the ball—all of it was astonishing.

Yang Li stared at the stopwatch, doubting his eyes. How was this possible? How could anyone be so extraordinary? He himself had once played in the CBA, but after so many years, it was the first time he had seen anyone shoot three-pointers at such speed and accuracy. Even the world’s best shooters would struggle to match this. Though the NBA’s three-point line is a meter longer than the court’s, only a phantom could release and shoot so quickly. He suppressed his excitement and joy, but his flushed face betrayed him.

At this moment, Yang Li was filled with memories of Lin Fei’s performance in the finals, vividly imagining how Lin Fei had sunk three after three, overwhelming his own players.

What should I do now? This kid possesses speed and shooting talent far beyond top athletes. Should I build the team around him, or completely rebuild the squad? Lin Fei is so young—given time, he could help me fulfill my dream of reaching the CUBA, even winning the championship. With such a trump card, everything becomes possible.

The coach addressed Lin Fei, trying to remain calm. “Lin Fei, what position do you prefer on the court?”

“Point guard.”

“Can you play as a substitute?” The coach’s tone was tentative. Normally, a coach would speak with authority, but with Lin Fei, Yang Li didn’t quite know how to begin; this kind of talent was so rare, he had no confidence.

“It doesn’t matter. As long as I can play and score, any position is fine.” Lin Fei’s answer made Yang Li even happier. Wasn’t this the kind of player he’d dreamed of?

How should I train him? If used well, Lin Fei could be the school team’s golden opportunity to make a breakthrough in CUBA.

Yang Li was already envisioning the future. Yet, how Lin Fei would face all that was to come—that was the next problem he had to consider.