Chapter 39: A Master of Ball Control!

Returning to the court, the gap had already widened to five points. It wasn’t much, but catching up wouldn’t be easy. Yuhang faced Fang Huijian one-on-one, and after shaking off Fang’s defense, he tried to shoot. But Liu Hai quickly came to help, so Yuhang passed to Ming Han on the left. Ming Han took a step, lofted the ball, and scored!

Liu Hai watched Ming Han's move and laughed, “You’re improving pretty fast!”

It seemed Liu Hai had always been paying attention to Ming Han. Indeed, just two months ago, Ming Han couldn’t even shoot.

In the next possession, when Liu Hai tried to overpower Ming Han again, Daxu, who was closest to Ming Han, joined in to double-team after Liu Hai finished dribbling. Liu Hai, with excellent body control, passed the ball mid-air to their small forward in an open spot.

The Class Three small forward aimed confidently at the basket, but bricked the shot.

Yuhang was pleased with the defensive result. That Ming Han could suggest such a strategy meant his understanding of basketball was deepening.

Basketball intelligence was just as crucial on the court. Decisions made on instinct in the ever-changing game come only with repeated honing.

After a few such plays, Linhai’s offensive efficiency plummeted, and their rhythm visibly stalled.

“Class Thirteen will win…” The Class Thirteen students were all fired up after their team scored twice in a row.

As much as it felt great to be a top student, no one wanted others to say that people in their class had brains but simple limbs!

And so, after a quarter of hard-fought play, they caught up. The score: 21 to 21!

Both teams were exhausted. Ming Han wore a look of pain—he’d taken Liu Hai’s elbows for half the game. “Damn, does his family sell pork? Keeps handing out elbows like gifts.”

Chen Li came to Ming Han during halftime, worried. Compared to Liu Hai, Ming Han looked like a miniature version—visually, he really seemed to be suffering.

“Ming Han, winning or losing isn’t that important,” she said.

Ming Han knew she was trying to comfort him. But was winning really unimportant? At least to Ming Han, it mattered—a lot. Some things you have to defend with everything you’ve got.

“Chen Li, I’m going to win.”

Yuhang added, “We’re going to win!”

Everyone put their hands together and shouted with bold confidence: “We’re going to win!”

Third quarter—game on!

Class Three completely changed their defensive strategy, double-teaming Yuhang at all costs, always using a tall player to help. The message was clear: not just to disrupt his shot, but to cut off his passing lanes.

As expected, Yuhang made a mistake, and the other team scored on a fast break. His passing quality suffered too, and Class Thirteen got no good looks.

Class Thirteen relied on teamwork, but with their leader stifled, their offense ground to a halt.

They tried to adjust several times but nothing worked—this quarter, Class Thirteen scored only six points. Now they were down by ten. The game seemed all but over.

A smirk played at the corner of Fang Huijian’s lips as he glanced at Chen Li. “I’m far better than that kid! Not only do I have more money, I play basketball way better too.”

Class Thirteen huddled together—just ten minutes left.

Yuhang looked at Ming Han. “Let’s make a gamble.”

“On what?”

“Ming Han, do you remember what I once told you? The kind of player I hoped you’d become?”

Ming Han understood. “Point guard! You never really wanted me as a center. You wanted me at the one spot—the position that tests all-around ability the most.”

Yuhang nodded. “Next quarter, you play point guard. I’ll move without the ball.”

Zheng Yuan was hesitant. “Ming Han’s got talent, but his dribbling lacks variation, and his driving isn’t great. Can he really play point?”

Yuhang replied, “I’ve thought about that, and I think it’ll work. Ming Han’s dribbling is steady enough. Zheng Yuan, next quarter you and Ming Han set screens, force Wang Feng to guard Ming Han. He can’t match Ming Han’s speed, and stealing the ball will be nearly impossible.”

“Alright!”

Everyone agreed with Yuhang’s plan and got ready to go back in.

Ming Han still felt uncertain inside—he really didn’t want to lose this game.

Yuhang patted Ming Han’s shoulder. “Ming Han, I just have this feeling that you and I will play basketball together for a long time—not just in the junior high league, but beyond. So, I hope you’ll try every tactic we might ever need. Even if we lose today, it’s nowhere near the end for us. Give it your all, brother!”

He put special emphasis on the word “brother,” and Ming Han felt his eyes sting with emotion.

Back in elementary school, Ming Han hadn’t been nearly as outgoing as he was now. Many people had changed him, taught him to be a happier version of himself. But Yuhang had influenced him the most.

“Don’t get all sentimental,” Ming Han tried to hide his feelings.

Fang Huijian led the first attack of the quarter, but was stopped. Daxu, who grabbed the rebound, didn’t give the ball to Yuhang, but handed it to Ming Han.

Some spectators were confused. “Was that a bad pass?”

But Ming Han didn’t give it back to Yuhang. He brought it up himself.

Liu Hai snickered, “Let him play point? What a joke.”

Ming Han pushed the pace, and right after crossing half court, blew by Liu Hai with his first step, reaching the free-throw line in just two strides.

“Defense!”

Liu Hai hadn’t expected Ming Han to be so decisive, breaking through without even calling for a screen.

Wang Feng came over to help, but Ming Han bounced a pass to Zheng Yuan, who scored!

“What a beautiful pass…” many people gasped in admiration.

Yuhang wasn’t surprised at Ming Han’s quick decision-making. When they had first started playing, Yuhang thought Ming Han’s real gift was shooting, but after countless games, he realized Ming Han’s most precious trait was his passing.

If Ming Han’s ball-handling improved, his passing would become a nightmare for opponents.

Fang Huijian, watching this, consoled himself, “Just a fluke, that’s all.”

Next play, Linhai tried to go one-on-one with Ming Han to redeem himself, but after Chaoyang came to help, he lost the ball. Ming Han grabbed it and pushed hard—his strides so long he left two defenders behind and charged straight to the basket.

Wang Feng was still under the hoop, not even having made it past half court.

Ming Han kept up his dribble, and then, suddenly, made a behind-the-back pass to Yuhang, who was waiting beyond the arc on the left.

With a smooth motion, Yuhang caught and fired. Swish!

The crowd exploded.

“How can teamwork look this cool?”

“Has our school ever had such a tall point guard?”

“And he’s so good looking!”

“Ming Han, I want to have your babies!” shouted a boy, setting off a wave of laughter.

With Yuhang no longer handling the ball, the double-teams set for him became useless. From then on, Ming Han and Yuhang’s show began.

After Yuhang hit a mid-range shot in isolation, he yelled cockily, “I’ve been playing one-on-one since second grade…”