152: Chapter 151: No One Can Beat, No One Can Beat 152: Chapter 151: No One Can Beat, No One Can Beat He Jianjun still didn’t know that his opponent was the only person in Ten Miles Team whom nobody could defeat.
He seriously followed Wang Dong for five minutes, then was pushed to play like a duck being forced onto a perch.
He Jianjun was just seventeen this year, a ti when young n are particularly competitive.
He thought to himself: even though he hadn’t played table tennis before, he couldn’t lose too badly!
So, he used full strength in his serve, and the round little white ball whooshed past Wang Dong’s ear.
Wang Dong was confused, looking around, and asked the three spectators nearby: “What just whizzed by?”
Wen Lan: “Ball.”
Wang Shui: “You didn’t catch it.”
Lin Nianhe: “One to zero.”
Wang Dong hurried to pick the ping pong ball from the dry grass, wiping the dust off and saying: “Why did it start all of a sudden?
I wasn’t ready!”
Wen Lan: “Shaless.”
Wang Shui: “Too shaless.”
Lin Nianhe: “Utterly shaless.”
He Jianjun scratched his head and grinned, saying: “Then let’s not count that, Brother Wang.
Let’s play again.”
Wang Dong had his ego worn down these days, even losing to Xiao Tiezhu without any sha, so what reputation was there to talk about?
He grunted affirmatively, with a serious expression, bent over and to the side, threw the ball high up as if trying for a right-handed high toss serve.
Then he missed catching it.
“What flew by again?”
Wen Lan: “Ball again.”
Wang Shui: “You missed again.”
Lin Nianhe: “Another one to zero.”
He Jianjun looked at him bewildered: “Brother Wang, you don’t have to let win, let’s just play normally.”
Wang Dong: “…”
Wang Shui burst into laughter and said to him: “Don’t get it wrong, he’s not letting you win.”
Lin Nianhe nodded in agreent: “Don’t doubt it, your Brother Wang is exceptionally good at making his full effort seem effortless.”
“Huh?”
He Jianjun couldn’t understand.
Playing ping pong isn’t hard.
He just learned it himself, and he could do it.
He stood there, holding the ping pong paddle, unsure what to do.
Wen Lan felt itchy hands, went forward and snatched the paddle from Wang Dong, shooing him away: “Step aside, I’ll play.”
Wang Dong was unconvinced: “Why?
Let play.”
“I’m the PE teacher, I need more practice!” Wen Lan insisted proudly, “I’ll be teaching students too!”
Principal Wu had already assigned them their teaching subjects.
Currently, the primary school had only five grades, Lin Nianhe was responsible for the first grade’s Chinese and mathematics and was the horoom teacher for the first grade;
Wang Xue was responsible for second and third grade Chinese and was the horoom teacher for the second grade;
Miao Hongqi was responsible for second and third grade mathematics and was the horoom teacher for the third grade;
Wang Shui was responsible for fourth and fifth grade mathematics and was the horoom teacher for the fourth grade;
Wang Dong was responsible for fourth and fifth grade Chinese and was the horoom teacher for the fifth grade.
The village school implented a system where teachers followed the sa class, and the fifth grade horoom teacher would lead the first grade the next term after their students graduated.
Wen Lan, ranking sixth, was in charge of physical education and labor courses.
In rural primary schools, labor classes seriously taught children how to farm, and having Wen Lan, the most labor-capable educated youth, substitute was reasonable.
Physical education was simpler, just involving running, jumping, and playing so ping pong with the kids.
Music class, however, was a problem, as originally, Principal Wu intended for Wen Lan to also take music class, but there was a hitch—
Wen Lan couldn’t sing.
Or rather, her singing was quite unpleasant.
Principal Wu did have an accordion, but Wen Lan couldn’t play it; Wang Xue had a flute, but again, Wen Lan couldn’t play it.
Both Principal Wu and Wang Xue had tried teaching her, but Wen Lan genuinely couldn’t learn.
Thus, Principal Wu took over the music class himself.
The principal is the Brick, moving wherever needed.
Driven by the Brick Principal, lately, everyone had been focusing on mastering their assigned subjects, studying textbooks and planning teaching processes, especially Wen Lan.
She is the second person most passionate about ping-pong next to Wang Dong, and they even specifically scheduled their gas—ten minutes per person, taking turns playing.
But she is different from Wang Dong; Wang Dong couldn’t be beaten by anyone, while Wen Lan couldn’t beat anyone.
The two, heading in opposite directions, ended up with the sa result—nobody in the Ten Miles Team wanted to play with them.
Many people have tried to encourage the two to play together, so they wouldn’t spoil the ga for others.
But Wen Lan disdained Wang Dong for being too weak and refused to play with him.
Now that she has caught sight of the unaware He Jianjun, how could Wen Lan pass up the opportunity?
So, He Jianjun is dood.
He, who just unfairly scored two points, finally realizes how real ping-pong should be played.
Wang Shui: “That’s too cruel.”
Lin Nianhe: “That’s too savage.”
Wang Dong: “Twenty-eight to one now.”
Only then did Lin Nianhe realize that Wen Lan had already scored twenty-eight points.
This would be impossible in a official ping-pong match, but they were just playing casually, and counting directly was more convenient.
“Twenty-eight to two!”
Suddenly energized, Wang Dong cheered and jumped around for He Jianjun.
Lin Nianhe looked at He Jianjun, surprised.
Typically, soone being defeated this badly would be either discouraged or exhausted, giving up would be the normal response.
But He Jianjun was still playing, playing very seriously.
Sweat traced his cheeks, his face reddened, and his breathing rate increased.
But his gaze on the ball was bright, getting brighter.
“Twenty-nine to two.”
“Twenty-nine to three.”
“Thirty to three.”
“Thirty to four.”
“…”
“Nianhe, do you think Xiao Lan was this strong when she first started playing?” Wang Shui whispered to Lin Nianhe.
Lin Nianhe shook her head: “I don’t rember, but I know if we were to play against her now, we’d definitely lose.”
Their ping-pong skills, in Wen Lan’s words—are a bit better than Wang Dong’s, but only a little bit.
Wang Xue, who had co back with boiled water and was watching, said: “But he still can’t beat Wen Lan, he’s so far behind in points.”
“Not necessarily.” Lin Nianhe shook her head, “Sister Lan is tired.”
How big is the difference in physical strength between n and won?
It varies from person to person, but in the current situation, Wen Lan is indeed the more tired one.
Moreover, the duration of a small ga visibly stretched longer.
If scored by match rules, Wen Lan has already won a big point, but if it’s best three out of five, He Jianjun has a high chance of winning.
Lin Nianhe tugged at Wang Shui’s sleeve: “Should we stop them for a bit?”
Wang Shui frowned slightly and nodded: “Let’s interrupt them, it feels like it’s about to flare up.”
“You go?”
“Stop kidding, Xiao Lan would smack .”
Lin Nianhe clicked her tongue and patted Wang Dong’s shoulder: “Hey, they’ve been playing for so long, it should be your turn, right?”
Wang Dong, who was engrossed in counting, also noticed a few volley techniques he thought he could handle.
Hearing Lin Nianhe’s words, he imdiately rembered.
“Right!
We agreed ten minutes each!”
Wang Dong leaped forward towards Wen Lan: “Co on, ti’s up, it’s my turn!”
Wen Lan missed the ball.
“Wang Dong!
Are you trying to get killed!”
The roar pierced through the clouds above the village school.
The other girls all looked at Lin Nianhe in unison, their expressions as if to say: It’s your turn!
Lin Nianhe silently pulled out a small red string from her pocket, and very adeptly tied it with one hand around her wrist.
Then she turned her head to look at them, righteously: “Why are you looking at ?
Didn’t you ask for it?”
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