Flashback
Zheng had always been the kind of kid who did what he was told. His mother's words echoed in his ears as he headed out of their five-seater family car.
"Take it easy today, okay?" she said with a smile, leaning against the window fra, her eyes soft with motherly concern.
"Yes, mom!" Zheng called out, pulling his duffel bag over his shoulder.
"And don't be too sad if you lose," she added her voice light but with a hint of seriousness.
Zheng turned around, giving her a grin. "Don't worry. I won't."
He waved and jogged down the street toward his ho for three weeks—the basketball boot camp.
Sumr had arrived, and unlike his typical day in school, he was going to be surrounded by the sport he loved dearly and with young aspirants like him.
Zheng wasn't naturally gifted—he knew that. He'd never been the star player, not in school, not on any team. But he was diligent. He put in the hours, stayed after practice, and listened to his coaches. He wasn't exceptional, but he wasn't bad either. He was just…normal.
Forgettable, even.
By the ti he reached the court that morning, his fellow players were already warming up. Zheng joined in, feeling excited as he participated in the drills. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he passed the ball, pivoted, and took a shot—everything was as expected. But he wasn't the one people noticed.
The mont Jian Niu arrived, it was like all eyes were magnetically drawn to him. Even before high school, Jian's na had already begun circulating in the local basketball scene. Stay connected via My Virtual Library Empire
"Isn't he the best?" soone whispered on the sidelines.
"Yeah, I heard he doesn't even need to practice much," another kid said, eyes wide.
Zheng overheard them and couldn't help but glance over at Jian. Tall, lean, and with a gaze that made it clear he knew how good he was, Jian moved through the crowd like he owned the place. He wasn't even sweating yet, but there was a kind of aura around him—a quiet confidence that only the truly great had.
As the coach gathered the team for practice, Zheng noticed sothing odd. While the rest of them lined up for drills, Jian stood apart, casually dribbling a ball between his legs. He was barely paying attention.
Zheng couldn't help but feel a little frustrated. They were all here, putting in the work, and Jian was just...there. It felt unfair.
Halfway through the drills, Jian strolled up to one of the trainers. "May I be excused?" he asked, his voice calm, almost bored.
One of the trainers scowled, clearly annoyed. "You just got here, kid. You should show more enthusiasm."
But before the trainer could argue more, another one stepped in. "It's fine, let him go," he said with a sigh. "Jian's different. He doesn't need this. He's already a beast."
Zheng's ears perked up. A beast? What kind of player could afford to skip practice and still be considered one of the best? His curiosity piqued, but he stayed quiet, watching as Jian left the court without a second glance.
As the rest of them finished practice, Zheng found himself thinking more and more about Jian. When they were told they'd be scrimmaging as a team later that week, Zheng knew he had to see for himself what everyone was talking about.
The day of the scrimmage arrived, and Zheng could feel the excitent in the air. Jian was his teammate this ti, and for the first half of the ga, it was like watching a robot at work. Zheng played well enough—he hustled, passed the ball, did everything he was supposed to—but Jian? He was on another level.
It was as if the ga bent to his will.
Jian would steal the ball, make a pass that no one saw coming, and within seconds, he'd glide down the court for an easy layup. No effort, no strain. Every movent was smooth, calculated, and deadly. The opposing team didn't stand a chance.
"Man, he's a monster," one of the players mumbled under his breath after Jian sank another three-pointer without even breaking a sweat.
Zheng couldn't disagree. He'd never seen anyone play like this before. It wasn't just that Jian was good—he made everyone else look like they were moving in slow motion. The ga wrapped up quickly, and predictably, Jian's team won by a landslide.
As soon as the final whistle blew, Jian picked up his things and started walking off the court.
Zheng watched him for a mont, then made up his mind. He jogged after him, catching up just as Jian was about to leave the gym.
"Hey!" Zheng called out, breathing a little heavier than he would've liked after the intense scrimmage. Jian paused, glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.
"What's up?" Jian asked, his tone casual.
Zheng shifted awkwardly, feeling suddenly nervous. "Do you...do you want to play one-on-one with ? Just for fun?"
Jian looked at him for a long mont, then shrugged. "Sure, why not?" he said, turning back to the court with a slight smirk. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
Zheng grabbed a ball, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew Jian was good—he'd just seen it. But part of him wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could hold his own. He'd worked hard, after all. He practiced every day. He deserved a shot.
But as soon as the ga started, Zheng realized just how wrong he was.
Jian obliterated him.
It wasn't even close. Jian's movents were effortless—he crossed over with lightning speed, and his footwork was flawless. Every ti Zheng thought he had a chance to stop him, Jian would fake him out and glide past him for an easy basket.
They played for what felt like forever, but in reality, it was over in minutes.
Jian didn't even break a sweat.
By the end, Zheng was exhausted, bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Jian, on the other hand, casually spun the ball on his finger, looking completely unfazed.
"You're not bad," Jian said, though there was an edge of pity in his voice. "But as expected...no one can stop ."
Zheng straightened up, wiping the sweat from his forehead, but he couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how hard he worked, no matter how much ti he put in, there would always be soone like Jian—soone who didn't need to work at all, soone who was just born great.
Jian tossed the ball aside, slung his bag over his shoulder, and left without another word.
Reviews
All reviews (0)