Chapter 27: The Roar
Lu Li sat in the security room, watching the live broadcast on TV. He took the bottle of iced tea handed to him by the security guard and thanked him. He was, after all, a minor and wouldn’t be given a hard time. The security guard simply registered his name, address, and phone number and let him stay in the security room until the end of the match. This was a good thing. The security room had air conditioning and soft sofas, a hundred times better than the stuffy spectator stands.
“Is that your sister?” Don’t let the security guard’s burly appearance fool you. He was actually a gentle older man with three daughters. “She’s amazing. Watching her play really gets you fired up.”
Zou Yameng had always been charismatic. Perhaps it was her confidence, her tenacity, or her hard work, but she always had a steady stream of supporters.
“She’s always been the best,” Lu Li said proudly. This was not an exaggeration. In his previous life, his sister’s achievements eventually surpassed He Ping’s. For some reason, He Ping, who had always had a smooth sailing career, retired a year later and never managed to achieve a world ranking.
“You two have such a good relationship.” The security guard nestled into the sofa. “Not like my three girls. When they come home from college for the holidays, they fight every day. Their rooms are like pig pens.”
Pig pens… Lu Li didn’t know many messy girls. Chen Jianing was one. In his previous life, he and Chen Jianing were a typical case of “fighting like cats and dogs before becoming friends.” Both were independent game developers and competitors. Initially, they were constantly arguing and trolling each other on various social media platforms. Lu Li even thought that the person he was arguing with online was a grumpy old man. In reality, Chen Jianing was indeed like a grumpy old man; she didn’t see herself as a woman.
His thoughts wandered. He might not even meet Chen Jianing in this life.
The live broadcast was replaying the highlights of the previous game, showing Zou Yameng and He Ping’s intense rallies. The two exchanged shots for dozens of rounds, culminating in Zou Yameng’s explosive smash. The commentator was giving a passionate speech, praising Zou Yameng lavishly, saying that she was “as graceful as a startled swan, as agile as a swimming dragon.” Lu Li didn’t think his sister would like that description.
He didn’t think that his sister’s ability to turn the tables was his doing either. It was Zou Yameng who stood on the court, who put in the effort and shed the sweat. He had merely given her a push when she was lost. He looked at the valiant figure of the woman on the screen, his eyes filled with relief and pride, as if he were back in elementary school, tasked with writing an essay titled “My Family,” proudly and eagerly reading aloud “My Sister.” Look, that was Zou Yameng, his omnipotent sister.
*
The sixth game began. He Ping was already drenched in sweat. She licked her dry lips, stepped onto the court, and faced Zou Yameng once more. The ten-minute break was too short. She could feel her lungs drying up, a metallic taste rising in her throat. It was the taste of blood.
She saw Zou Yameng walking out, surrounded by the girls from the Chuanhai team. Her eyes flickered, and a pang of sorrow surged through her heart. She was the only player from Jindong, without even a single person to cheer for her. No, there should have been. There should have been. An unwarranted jealousy welled up inside her, making the veins on her hand gripping the ball bulge.
There was only one word to describe the sixth game.
Brutal.
It was like a hand-to-hand battle in ancient times, where even the dead were dragged up to be used as shields. The score was extremely close. Both He Ping and Zou Yameng’s stamina had visibly declined. He Ping’s shots were getting weaker, Zou Yameng’s movements were getting slower. Even the commentator didn’t dare to predict the outcome because at this point, no one could tell which way the match would go.
Everyone’s hearts were in their throats, their eyes glued to the tiny ping pong ball, not daring to blink, afraid of missing any of the players’ movements.
When the referee blew the whistle, Zou Yameng excitedly threw her hands up in the air. 12:14, she had won the third game with a slim advantage. The incredible comeback from three games down was within reach! A buzz of excitement rippled through the audience. Zou Yameng felt like she was in a dream. She was going to do it, she was going to succeed! If this was a dream, please let her never wake up.
Although He Ping’s face remained expressionless, the beads of sweat forming on her forehead betrayed her inner turmoil. An unprecedented fear gripped her heart, making her breath ragged. The fear of failure. She had never imagined that she would lose to someone her own age. It was always others who were chasing after her, but this time, she could see that Zou Yameng had already surpassed her!
Three wins each! Match point, final game!
At this critical moment, He Ping suddenly thought of her parents. She began to resent them, blaming them for not even coming to such an important match, for leaving her to fight alone. Her mind wandered, as if she saw her childhood. Why did she play table tennis?
She remembered. Because the school required every student to join an extracurricular activity class, other students chose art, music, writing, crafts… She was good at none of them. Her father said she was a disgrace to their family of intellectuals, that she only knew how to bury herself in books. To avoid disappointing her father, she chose table tennis, simply because the PE teacher had casually remarked, “You’re not bad, practice more.”
The next year, she was sent to an expensive training class. The year after that, her free time was occupied by endless training sessions. In the fifth year, her mother boasted to her aunt about her talent as an athlete. In the sixth year, her father’s red envelope contained a note that read, “May Xiaohuan become an Olympic champion!” No one had ever asked her if she liked table tennis, this boring sport of hitting a ball back and forth, this sport she didn’t understand at all.
She didn’t like it, not one bit. She was only doing it for her parents. She wanted to see them proudly boasting to their relatives during holidays, wanted to see them holding their heads high in front of their colleagues. As for herself? He Ping didn’t care. But why didn’t they come to watch her match? Didn’t they promise they would?
“Are you alright?” Zou Yameng’s voice reached He Ping’s ears.
He Ping’s lips were pale, her eyes unfocused. She didn’t look well at all.
No, she wasn’t alright. Her waist was numb with pain, her heart was heavy, and she couldn’t breathe properly.
“I’m fine,” she replied.
But He Ping soon paid the price for her bravado. Just five minutes into the game, she lost four points in a row. Even a fool could see that He Ping was done for. Her stamina was completely gone. In this war of attrition, it was the tireless Zou Yameng who had the upper hand.
*
In the rest area, the Jindong coach had just hung up the phone, her face ashen, speechless. She clutched her phone, her eyes fixed on the exhausted He Ping, her throat as if blocked by a lump of iron. Something had happened. He Ping’s parents had been in an accident. They were in a car crash on the highway and were currently being treated at the hospital. She didn’t know how to tell He Ping, especially at this critical moment.
She could see that He Ping’s eyes were constantly searching the audience, looking for her parents, longing for their recognition. Everyone had their pillar of support. Those with faith were both strong and fragile. Faith could make people invincible, but a shattered faith could also make them collapse. Nihilists would surely gloat at this moment.
Zou Yameng ruthlessly brought the score to 0:10. He Ping, who had been like a demon king, hadn’t scored a single point in the final game, her performance deteriorating dramatically. Just one more point, one more point, and Zou Yameng would be able to overcome the mountain that was He Ping and reach new heights.
She looked at the pale-faced He Ping, her eyes devoid of pity or anger. There was no joy or sorrow, only the calmness before the storm, like a suppressed volcano. She could only hear the pounding of her own heart, see only He Ping’s right hand serving the ball. The image of the young man filled her mind. At this moment, technique and skill didn’t matter. This was a match played with the passion of Zou Yameng’s life.
He Ping seemed to have regained some of her composure, barely managing to return Zou Yameng’s shot. But in Zou Yameng’s eyes, the angle, strength, and speed of He Ping’s return were perfect. This was the perfect opportunity to deliver the final blow! At this moment, she let out a roar, forgetting everything else, like the last spark of a dying flame.
It was said that Zhang Fei once scared Xiahou Jie to death with a roar. Roaring seemed to be a man’s prerogative, but no one had ever imagined that a beautiful woman could also let out such a soul-stirring roar. The woman on the court seemed to have truly transformed into a fierce tiger. That roar was like the most dazzling fireworks on a summer night, igniting a flame called life in everyone’s hearts.
The audience couldn’t help but stand up, their eyes fixed on Zou Yameng’s right hand. Her right hand extended backward in an exaggerated motion, like Genghis Khan drawing back his bow. The next second, the bowstring snapped, and Zou Yameng’s racket struck the ping pong ball like a thunderbolt!
The ball landed on He Ping’s side of the table, its momentum unabated. It shot past He Ping’s racket like an arrow, barely missing her, ruffling her short hair. He Ping stared blankly at the table. The white shadow of the ball was gone. The only thing in her mind was Zou Yameng’s roar. A ridiculous thought crossed her mind:
It’s good, I don’t have to pretend anymore.
The referee’s final whistle blew. He Ping was shut out by Zou Yameng in the final game.
Thunderous applause erupted in the venue, not only for Zou Yameng but also for He Ping. This match had shown them the charm of sports, the passion of life. He Ping saw Zou Yameng walking towards her and sincerely embraced her. The two women didn’t say anything, simply parting ways.
He Ping returned to the rest area, oblivious to her coach’s strained expression.
“I’m sorry. I’ll train harder when I get back.” Her eyes were unfocused as she mechanically slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out. Suddenly, she stopped. “Are they not here yet?”
The coach spoke with difficulty, “They said something urgent came up…”
“Tell them I hate them.”
Without another word, He Ping walked into the world, her emotions bottled up inside.
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