Chapter 67: The Magician (Part Three)

The entire stadium fell into a hush.

Lin Shan was about the same height as Ming Han, brimming with athleticism and an exceptional finisher under the basket. Generally, it was rare for anyone to block him so decisively.

“Ming Han, you’re ruthless! I almost got smacked out of the court,” Lin Shan joked, clearly not upset.

Emotions on the court are hard to control—fights aren’t exactly unheard of. But these boys were long-time acquaintances; naturally, they wouldn’t lose their tempers so easily.

Next, Ming Han scored another mid-range jumper, right over Lin Shan, bringing his total to ten points.

Five minutes can pass in a flash. In the final quarter, Class 2’s isolation plays began to show the strain of fatigue, and their efficiency dropped sharply. This was why Class 13 hadn’t been thoroughly routed by their opponents.

With three minutes left, the game paused again.

Yuhang was already warming up, looking none the worse for wear.

“OK?” someone asked.

Yuhang nodded, excitement lighting his face. The moment had finally come; he’d waited for this showdown for so long.

Daxu grinned, “Take care of yourself, Yuhang. If anything happens to you, I’ll have to inherit your MP4 and all the treasures on it.”

Seeing Daxu’s mock agony, Yuhang wanted to punch him—Daxu had been eyeing the content of Yuhang’s MP4 for ages.

“Now, the few of us will settle this final game.”

This was their last year of junior high, their final intergrade basketball tournament. The friends who’d played together for three years—those scattered memories, years from now, would still bring warmth to their hearts.

Three minutes to decide it all!

Lin Wei and Lin Shan were both tense; they’d never experienced such a nail-biting moment last semester. Lin Shan stood beside Ming Han. “No matter who wins, we’re all going out for drinks tonight. Damn, this game is thrilling!”

Yuhang’s ankle was fine now. Facing Lin Wei, he began to display his dazzling ball-handling skills—a swift crossover, a sudden acceleration, then a step-back jumper that found the net as Lin Wei closed in.

The crowd erupted. The best point guard in the junior division lived up to his reputation.

The commentator exclaimed, “This underclassman’s ball-handling is no less than the best we have in the high school division. In terms of flair, he might even surpass them.”

Another commentator nodded. “He reminds me of Iverson and Paul. When this kid gets to high school, he’ll be phenomenal.”

Lin Wei, not to be outdone, attacked Yuhang in the next possession, forcing his way to the basket and scoring with sheer strength—even before Chaoyang could come over to help.

It was a scoring duel, neither side showing any mercy.

Class 13 did everything possible to defend the two brothers. Their isolation plays were unstoppable; only someone with a size advantage could hope to block their bulldozing drives.

As the clock ticked down, the score stood at 60 to 61—Class 2 ahead by a single point.

Less than a minute remained.

Class 2 still had possession. The tension was suffocating; if they scored now, the game would be nearly out of reach.

Lin Wei brought up the ball, Yuhang guarding him. The others cleared out, leaving the two to duel.

Lin Wei attacking Yuhang was a clear mismatch—he’d scored on Yuhang more than half the time that day. Yuhang was nearly ten centimeters shorter, with no real advantage.

A simple crossover, and Lin Wei drove straight in. Four steps and he was under the basket.

“Is he going to score?” That was the desperate thought in Class 13’s minds.

Yuhang pressed close, not giving up any space. As Lin Wei went up for the layup, Yuhang leaped to contest—not to block, but to disrupt. Lin Wei’s shooting form wavered under the pressure.

He missed.

Zheng Yuan snatched the rebound.

Lin Wei protested to the referee, gesturing for a foul.

Ming Han took over as point guard.

Thirty seconds remained. The entire crowd was on their feet, fists clenched.

A commentator’s voice trembled, “Who will win? The champion still isn’t decided in the final moments. This game is insanely thrilling.”

The discipline director shot the commentator a disapproving look—whose student was this, using such language? But he didn’t intervene; he himself was wholly absorbed in the game.

Even the stern discipline director was young once! Back then, he wasn’t yet overweight, but a swift-footed youth, sweating it out on the basketball courts with his friends. Those beautiful, fleeting days! These youngsters seemed to be their continuation. Life is wonderful!

Ming Han dribbled, running the clock down to fifteen seconds. Yuhang came over to set a screen.

This was their best play. Ming Han drove past, and the two brothers hesitated for a split second, allowing Ming Han a path inside.

But the brothers were right behind, convinced Ming Han would go for the layup.

And Ming Han did indeed rise as if to shoot.

The two closed in, completely sealing off his path to the basket.

Suddenly, Ming Han tossed the ball over his head. Yuhang had cut down the lane at just the right moment, caught the pass, and floated it in!

Class 13 was now ahead by one.

Lin Wei was stunned. He was sure Ming Han hadn’t once glanced back to check Yuhang’s position—how could he be certain Yuhang would be there, following his drive? Was it just chemistry?

At that moment, Lin Wei thought of a word: Magician.

That was the nickname of Magic Johnson, the greatest point guard in NBA history.

The commentator was ecstatic, “My God! Are they Siamese twins? That play could make the NBA’s top ten highlights!”

Many in the crowd were in shock. Such teamwork was the stuff of textbook examples.

The black referee, suppressing his astonishment, murmured, “Ming Han, your ceiling keeps getting harder to see.”

Would these two become legends of the basketball scene in years to come?

Daxu ran over. “Ming Han, do you have eyes in the back of your head?”

Ming Han smiled, “I know Yuhang too well. When the brothers abandoned Yuhang to block me, I knew for sure he would be right on my heels.”

Yuhang was deeply moved—this was his best partner, from childhood to now.

Class 2 had one last possession.

They called a timeout.

“Bro, Ming Han…” Lin Shan didn’t know how to continue. That play was like a dream.

Lin Wei sighed, “Now I finally understand why the black referee admires Ming Han so much. In terms of playmaking, Ming Han will definitely surpass Yuhang in the future.”

It was a shame, but they still had a chance.

Eight seconds remained—enough time for one last play. The outcome would be decided by the final shot.

Seeing Lin Shan’s downcast expression, Lin Wei ruffled his hair. “Silly brother, don’t you believe in me?”

Of course! Lin Shan thought, my brother is strong. Back when they trained with the sports class, his brother was like a god of war. When it came to the final shot, Lin Wei rarely disappointed.