The fourth quarter was in full swing, with fans from both sides hyping up their teams to the fullest.
The Ying Eagles was now down by fourteen points, and the crowd could see how Zheng was trying his best to lead his teammates to surpass that gap—as wide as it was.
In the VIP area, everyone seed to hold their breath, each play edging closer to the inevitable conclusion.
Kai sat with his arms folded, lips pressed together as he watched Zheng push himself against an impossible opponent.
Gina broke the silence. "It's clear that Zheng's giving everything he has. He's made it to the Elite Five through sheer willpower and determination alone. But will that be enough to close the gap against soone like Jian Niu?"
David sighed. "Jian was born with a gift that can't be taught or trained. You have to respect Zheng's work ethic, but hard work can only go so far."
On the court, Jian stood calm, like a mountain that refused to move, even as Zheng bore down on him with everything he had.
They locked eyes for a brief mont, and Jian shook his head. It was a gesture of respect, a silent acknowledgnt of how far Zheng had co and how much he'd improved since they first t.
But Jian's expression also held a tinge of regret. He knew that no matter how hard Zheng fought, the outco wouldn't change.
As Zheng took possession of the ball, he glanced at the scoreboard. Fourteen points. It was a daunting gap, but in his mind, he pushed it aside.
He couldn't let that number determine his effort. With a deep breath, he centered himself, gripping the ball tightly in his hands.
He moved quickly, faking left, then darting right. Jian followed him, keeping up with every step Zheng took. Zheng cut toward the paint, crossing over in a desperate attempt to shake his defender, but Jian anticipated the move, blocking his path and forcing him to change direction.
"Zheng's putting on a great show here!" David called out. "He's relentless, refusing to back down even with the odds stacked against him. But look at Jian's defense! It's as if he's reading Zheng's mind."
Zheng gritted his teeth, adjusting his pace and trying again. He spun, then drove toward the hoop, hoping for even the slightest gap—sothing to exploit.
But Jian's reactions were instant, his hand shooting up to intercept, his body shifting effortlessly to counter every move.
From the VIP area, Kai and the other Elites watched with mixed emotions. They knew Zheng's story—just the gist of it. They knew how he had clawed his way up from nothing, defying the odds to reach the near-highest level.
But watching him now, struggling against soone like Jian, it was hard not to feel a pang of disappointnt. They wanted to believe in him, but the harsh reality was inescapable.
"This is painful to watch," Calvin muttered under his breath. "I just want it to end."
Kai stayed silent, his gaze fixed on the court. He understood better than anyone what it felt like to push yourself to the limit only to face an immovable wall. To him, in the past, it was his disability.
To Zheng, that wall was Jian.
Back on the court, Zheng's breathing grew heavier, his muscles burning as he continued to press forward. Sweat dripped down his face, stinging his eyes, but he refused to let up.
He charged again, faking a step back before attempting a jumper. But before he could even take the shot, Jian's hand was already there, swatting the ball away with a force that sent it flying across the court.
The crowd gasped, and Gina's voice echoed over the speakers. "Incredible block by Jian! He's shutting down every attempt Zheng makes."
"I would be bawling my eyes out if that was ," David remarked, attempting to lighten the atmosphere.
Zheng stumbled back, catching his breath as he retrieved the ball. His chest heaved, his vision slightly blurred from the intensity of his efforts.
He looked at Jian again, and a strange calm settled over him. He wasn't angry. He wasn't even frustrated. This was simply the truth—a reality he had to face. Jian was just better.
Still, sothing inside him wouldn't let go. He took one last breath, steadying himself for what he knew would be his final push.
He darted forward, using every ounce of energy left in his body. His movents were desperate, weaving around defenders, pushing past his limits as he headed straight for Jian once more. He faked left, then right, his footwork flawless, his pace unrelenting.
But Jian was there, always one step ahead. As Zheng rose for a shot, Jian rose with him, his hand extending to et the ball. Their eyes locked for a split second, and in that mont, Zheng felt it—a wall, a ceiling he couldn't break through.
He had reached his limit.
David's s voice broke through the tension. "Zheng gives it his all, but Jian is simply unbeatable tonight! You can see the exhaustion in Zheng's movents. He's fought hard, but it seems he's finally reached his breaking point."
As Zheng landed, his body felt heavy, his legs barely able to hold him up. He glanced at the scoreboard, at the widening gap, and then back at Jian, who stood there as calm and collected as ever. In his eyes, Zheng saw Jian looking at him with respect and sympathy.
Zheng's vision blurred slightly, his breaths coming in short gasps. This was it, the mont he had dreaded but knew would co. He had fought his hardest, but there was a limit he simply couldn't surpass.
Kai's lips tightened, and the other Elites exchanged glances of understanding. Max even clicked his tongue and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
The ball slipped from Zheng's fingers, bouncing away as he stood there, shoulders slumped, staring at the floor.
He
should
do it.
He
would
do it.
But in the end, he
couldn't
do it.
He just
couldn't
.
Reviews
All reviews (0)