Chapter 99: Luck Not on My Side? (Second Update)

Moreover, today’s audience included not just students, but also school officials and leaders from the Education Bureau who had come to observe the match. Initially, they sat on the dais exchanging compliments. “Haha, Old Wang, you’re looking younger than ever.” “No, no, Old Lin, it’s you who seems to have returned to your prime.” Then, they were stunned by Daxu’s outrageous behavior. It was the first time they’d seen someone bring a megaphone to a basketball game.

The referee, furious and embarrassed, signaled the security guards to eject this spectator from the venue. Daxu, bewildered, protested, “What are you doing? I was rebuking the overseas Chinese crowd for their psychological attacks on our players.” The security guard, thoroughly displeased, retorted, “Nonsense, I saw several freshmen terrified by your crude antics.” As the guard escorted Daxu out of the gym, Daxu shouted through his megaphone, “Minghan, you must win!”

Watching Daxu’s departing figure, Minghan was struck by a sense of tragic heroism, as if echoing the ancient lament, “The wind moans cold by the Yi River, the brave depart never to return.”

This match featured highly professional referees, and two senior students acted as commentators. The players from both sides took to the court, with Minghan playing the shooting guard position.

The African coach’s strategy was to utilize Minghan and Yuhang’s passing abilities to open up their set offense. For transition plays, their two forwards would spearhead the fast breaks.

Lin Zengkun squinted at Minghan and asked, “You’re the little star everyone’s talking about?” The disdain was palpable in his words. Hearing this, the rest of the Overseas Chinese School team burst into loud laughter.

The usually silent Qiang spoke up, “Are you the hothead who claimed on the forum to be the best in the county?” Lin Zengkun had long been mocked online for his dismissive attitude toward player rankings. Everyone acknowledged his talent, but criticized his arrogance.

“Heh... Let’s hope Jinhua doesn’t disappoint me this year.” For years, Jinhua had been considered an underdog; making it past the first round was luck in itself.

Tip-off!

Qiang won the jump and passed the ball to Yuhang. In the first possession, Minghan used double screens set by Lin Wei and Lin Shan to run out from the baseline, caught the ball, but missed the shot.

Lin Zengkun grabbed the rebound and launched a counterattack. Charging down the court, he attracted Jinhua’s defenders and then bounced the ball to the trailing Qiu Zhicheng, who finished with a layup.

As expected, Lin Zengkun’s playmaking ability was impressive—a rare organizing forward. To complement him, the Overseas Chinese coach had specifically paired him with an offensive-minded point guard. All four of their players posed threats inside the three-point line, maximizing Lin Zengkun’s organizational impact.

“A beautiful pass—truly the best organizing forward in the county,” the commentator noted, evidently familiar with Lin Zengkun’s style.

Next possession. Yuhang and Qiang executed a pick-and-roll, and after breaking through, passed to Qiang on the opposite side. Qiang missed the floater, but snatched his own rebound and scored with a hook shot.

The Overseas Chinese center was no match for Qiang—his abilities lagged far behind.

Lin Zengkun, seeing his team lose the rebound, showed no frustration. He clapped and encouraged his teammates, “It’s fine, let’s focus on teamwork.” Though arrogant, Lin Zengkun was an exemplary leader, adept at coordinating offense and boosting morale.

He brought the ball across half-court, ran a pick-and-roll with Qiu Zhicheng! The African coach had prepped his team for switching on defense, given their height advantage over the Overseas Chinese squad.

Yuhang was now matched against Qiu Zhicheng, an extremely savvy off-ball player. With the pick-and-roll failing, he had to pass to the low post. But Qiu Zhicheng chose differently; he glanced at Yuhang and pulled up from beyond the arc. His quick release and confident gaze shocked Yuhang.

Swish!

The ball slipped cleanly through the net.

“County’s best point guard, is it?” Qiu Zhicheng murmured.

Despite sinking such an inspiring shot, Qiu Zhicheng showed little excitement. He immediately followed Lin Zengkun’s tactical instructions, switching to guard Yuhang.

If you’re Jinhua’s core and brain, today I’ll have my shooter break your confidence.

But Jinhua was no longer an underdog, especially since today the Overseas Chinese point guard was tasked with defending Lin Wei.

Jinhua Middle School’s best one-on-one player.

Lin Wei backed down his only 1.75-meter defender and pulled up directly!

Score!

Though Lin Zengkun dazzled with four assists in the first quarter, his team still trailed by two points.

“Ridiculous, sending a shrimp to guard me.” Lin Wei scoffed, scoring eight points in single coverage during the first quarter and thoroughly outclassing the opposing point guard.

“Coach, I can’t defend him.”

The Overseas Chinese School coach pondered a moment, then decided: “Zengkun, you play point guard. Huang Bin, you go one-on-one with Lin Wei.” Huang Bin was their strongest defender, though his offensive skills were lacking, which kept him out of the starting lineup.

Huang Bin grinned, “A one-on-one specialist? Just my kind of matchup.”

Jinhua substituted. The African coach updated his strategy: “After the first quarter, they’ll definitely assign their defensive ace to Lin Wei, so in the second quarter we can’t rely on isolation plays. Wu Jianhao, sub for Minghan. We’ll run a dual-point guard lineup.”

In student tournaments, full line changes were rare—unlike ruthless professional leagues. Usually, substitutions were made based on the situation.

Minghan’s first quarter was poor: 0-for-3, bad passing, and one turnover. The offense stagnated noticeably.

“Minghan, take a break. You’ll likely go back in later.”

Hearing this, Minghan felt even more dejected. The African coach had placed high hopes on him, starting him in the lineup. He hadn’t expected to perform so badly in his first game. Minghan feared he would be dropped from the coach’s rotation.

“Don’t overthink it—it’s just a rough patch,” the coach seemed to sense his anxiety.

Second quarter. Lin Wei was clearly on fire. Despite repeated instructions from the coach not to play isolation, Lin Wei couldn’t resist when faced with single coverage. He faked, drove, and went up for a layup.

But Huang Bin was nothing like the sluggish point guard from earlier. He had explosive speed, chased down Lin Wei, and sent the ball flying with a slap.

Lin Wei lost his balance in midair and crashed heavily to the floor.

Lin Zengkun didn’t spare him a glance—he grabbed the ball and launched a fast break, sending a long pass to Qiu Zhicheng on the left wing. Qiu Zhicheng saw Jinhua collapsing into the paint and quickly pulled up for a shot. Score!

Confident, domineering!

The Overseas Chinese School’s stands erupted in a cacophony of drums and firecrackers.

“Beat Jinhua...”

Frustrated that Lin Wei disregarded his instructions, the African coach turned angrily to Minghan. “Get ready to sub in for Lin Wei.”

Nothing is more taboo in a game than discord between player and coach. The African coach would never tolerate such a situation.