If it came to academics, Lin Shu was miles behind Tian Peng. But on the basketball court? Lin Shu ranked among the best in school—after all, he was on the varsity team. Daily training built his physique, and weekly drills soaked his jersey in sweat.
Lin Shu knew Tian Peng’s skills well. They’d played in class matches together. Tian Peng was roughly at Lin Shu’s middle school level: no formal training, mostly self-taught during casual games. Among classmates, he was decent. But in real matches requiring teamwork? He faltered.
During class tournaments, Lin Shu played the supporting role—setting screens, grabbing rebounds, making gritty defensive plays—letting teammates shine. It wasn’t his choice. Tian Peng had assigned him that role from the start, and the others followed Tian Peng’s lead like loyal shadows.
If Lin Shu tried to lead the team or design tactics himself, Tian Peng would refuse. He only joined to show off and catch girls’ eyes. If Lin Shu’s suggestions were rejected, a laugh might smooth things over. But the real danger? Tian Peng nursing a grudge, sabotaging plays mid-game. If they lost, Lin Shu—blamed for "poor performance" due to Tian Peng’s deliberate misplays—would become the class’s designated scapegoat. For a class boasting a varsity player, failing to reach even the top eight would be humiliating. Lin Shu just wanted a quiet school life.
They’d fallen to Hou Fei’s class in the semifinals. The finals pitted Hou Fei against Yang Chao’s teams. At least they’d won third place—a certificate and some stationery prizes.
In regular school games, Lin Shu rode the bench. He only subbed in when the team led comfortably, tasked with defense and clock management. Scoring chances? Rare. Training scrimmages meant getting crushed by the main squad or junior high players.
Just as Lin Shu knew Tian Peng’s limits, Tian Peng assumed Lin Shu was only good as a teammate—weak in one-on-one play. Perfect. He’d humiliate Lin Shu publicly, especially in front of Su Nuan. Make her lose all hope in him. Then Tian Peng would sweep her off her feet.
A little presumptuous. For starters, Lin Shu and Su Nuan were fake dating. Worse, by underestimating Lin Shu’s skills, Tian Peng had walked right into a trap.
No mercy needed. Lin Shu’s peaceful school days were already gone. Instead, he’d crush Tian Peng hard enough to make him give up on Su Nuan. Even if the whole class turned against him, he’d still have Su Nuan as his ally.
“What are the rules?”
“Standard basketball rules.”
“How long? First to how many points?”
“Until class ends. Most baskets wins. You start on offense.”
“Then I won’t hold back.”
Not just their classmates—students from other PE classes crowded around. Both were school celebrities: Tian Peng for his frequent podium appearances, Lin Shu for his recent (notorious) spotlight on the confession wall.
The crowd roared, eager for drama.
Lin Shu had a plan. He shot from beyond the three-point line. Miss. Instant boos erupted.
“Lin Shu, you got this?!”
“Too scared to face me head-on? What a coward. No wonder Su Nuan chose you.”
“Just warming up,” Lin Shu shrugged.
They switched positions. Tian Peng drove in with flashy crossovers—Lin Shu stole the ball cleanly.
Lin Shu missed his second three-pointer. Tian Peng tried a layup—Lin Shu swatted it away.
“Turtle tactics. How’s that winning for you?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
The moment the ball left his hands, Lin Shu knew it was good. Swish. Nothing but net.
What followed was Lin Shu’s three-point showcase and Tian Peng’s repeated turnovers. The score gap widened. Even the crowd’s cheers shifted. Many who’d cheered for Tian Peng now chanted for Lin Shu—including girls standing right beside Su Nuan: “Go, Lin Shu!”
They barely glanced at Su Nuan, the supposed girlfriend. Anyone could see the skill gap. Tian Peng, who’d started this challenge, now looked like a clown. Cheering for a sure loser felt pointless, even embarrassing. His supporters fell silent. Meanwhile, Lin Shu—Su Nuan’s boyfriend—grew more impressive by the minute. *Anyone who likes Su Nuan must have good taste*, some whispered.
Su Nuan knew Lin Shu couldn’t lose. She hadn’t bothered cheering, avoiding confrontation with Tian Peng’s fangirls. But she hadn’t expected him to win so effortlessly, dismantling Tian Peng completely.
*Strong players should crush the weak*, she thought, *but must he show off like this?*
As the game wore on, their stamina gap widened. Tian Peng panted, drenched in sweat. Lin Shu felt like he’d just warmed up.
Desperate, Tian Peng copied Lin Shu—attempting three-pointers. Even Lin Shu needed time to find his rhythm; Tian Peng relied purely on luck.
Lin Shu switched tactics. No more threes. He drove hard to the basket. This was the real humiliation.
Tian Peng barely brushed against him before collapsing dramatically. Lin Shu blew past him for flashy layups. Finally, Tian Peng sank a three—his first basket of the game.
Class would end soon. Spectators drifted off—to the snack shop or back to classrooms.
Lin Shu decided to end it spectacularly. The school’s hoop hung lower than the standard 10 feet. Poor construction during repairs, plus a raised court surface, left only the indoor gym’s hoop regulation height.
A lower rim meant easier dunks.
Lin Shu first touched the rim in eighth grade. After that, he and friends would jump just to slap the backboard. His first one-handed grip left his right arm aching for a day—dropping the pen, crashing onto his tailbone when he lost hold.
Following his gym coach’s and father’s advice, he endured brutal strength and jump training: squats, bench presses, weighted box jumps, lunges. By ninth grade, he finally slammed his first dunk.
But he never dared dunk at school—risk of injury, or worse, breaking the rim and getting scolded.
Tian Peng had lost all fight. He raised his arms half-heartedly. Lin Shu soared past him. Palms spread wide under the ball, he leapt—driving it down with a thunderous CRACK! The backboard shuddered violently, groaning in protest as the ball bounced away with sharp thuds. The crowd erupted.
Su Nuan stormed onto the court, yanking Lin Shu’s ear. “So one admirer—Gu Chu—wasn’t enough for you?”
“I’m helping you crush the class monitor! Make him give up on you. Stop having *ideas*.”
*She should thank me*, Lin Shu thought. *After years of playing ball, when did I ever have admirers?*
“You looked like you were having fun,” she snapped. “Come with me.”
Wearing his most innocent expression, Lin Shu followed obediently—leaving Tian Peng frozen alone on the court, dazed and defeated.
