CHAPTER 843: CHAPTER 842: ARE YOU REALLY HER COACH?

The whistle blew.

Zheng Shan’s attacks were still fierce, but the opponent’s defense was indeed clever. No matter how Zheng Shan played, he always managed to return the ball.

"I think your apprentice is in trouble today."

Fang Ping held a cigarette and said to Wei Hongwei.

Wei Hongwei was so nervous that his face was full of sweat. He clenched his fists and watched the match without blinking, saying in a low voice, "Shanshan is still young; it’s normal to lose."

It’s unclear whether these words were to console Zheng Shan or to comfort himself.

Fang Ping habitually rubbed the cigarette, squinting slightly at the dynamics on the court.

After forcing three points through strong pressure, Zheng Shan’s offense gradually calmed down. It seemed like her fighting spirit was worn out by the opponent, or perhaps she was running out of energy.

Wei Hongwei frowned and whispered, "This shouldn’t be happening; Shanshan’s stamina should be enough."

Fang Ping couldn’t help but frown, muttering, "She’s still too young; having a restless temperament is normal."

The steady tug-of-war seemed like a casual practice, making the audience feel like yawning.

Just when everyone thought today’s match would end in a boring and dreary manner, Zheng Shan suddenly unleashed a fastball that not only stunned the audience but also caught the opponent off guard.

"Good!"

Wei Hongwei jumped up from his seat, clapping vigorously, with the excitement as if Zheng Shan had already won.

Fang Ping’s eyes brightened as he turned a page of paper.

Wei Hongwei enjoyed the moment for a while and then sat back down, worrying again, "But this trick can only be used once."

"Who says so?" Fang Ping replied lazily, "She can use it all the time."

Wei Hongwei frowned, "What are you talking about? People have defenses; how could it work a second time?"

Fang Ping looked at Wei Hongwei with a skeptical eye, "Are you really her coach?"

Wei Hongwei: "...?"

Fang Ping clearly didn’t feel like explaining to Wei Hongwei, continuing to watch the match.

Once again, the scene fell into that bizarrely harmonious friendly match situation.

But Zheng Shan’s opponent didn’t feel relaxed at all. He constantly wondered whether Zheng Shan’s next return would be another fierce attack.

He also wanted to learn Zheng Shan’s style and attempt a fierce attack, but he wasn’t good at it. The result was that his full-strength strike was merely Zheng Shan’s usual rhythm, and she received it easily.

He tried several times and finally gave up helplessly, having no choice but to fully guard against when the next fierce attack from the opponent would come.

With his concentration overly focused, his muscles tensed all over his body, constantly ready to receive the incoming fierce attack ball, he didn’t even notice that his stamina was rapidly depleting.

In fact, Zheng Shan herself hadn’t decided when the next fierce attack would be—before going onto the field, Lin Nianhe told her that to deceive the opponent, she must first deceive herself; if she feels surprised, then naturally the opponent couldn’t be prepared.

If it were anything else, Lin Nianhe saying this would be hard for her to understand.

But this was table tennis, a game she knew well, and it was willing to heed her words.

Zheng Shan started playing.

When she felt tired, she’d slow the game down with gentle shots, occasionally mixing in fierce strikes;

When she felt sleepy, she’d attack aggressively, then suddenly switch to two gentle shots.

How she played depended entirely on her body’s instincts at that moment.

The chaotic rhythm couldn’t be replicated even by herself, let alone her opponent — it was something unpredictably unstoppable.

Midway through the match, Lin Nianhe glanced at her watch.

Eighteen minutes had passed, much slower than usual.

Yet Zheng Shan’s condition remained good, and the opponent still hadn’t scored.

"Brother Yuncheng, do you think he has any hope left?" Lin Nianhe asked.

"No more," Su Yuncheng replied, "he’s nearing his limit."

Su Yuncheng had trained countless recruits and was well-acquainted with people’s limits.

The young man in front had perhaps some stamina left, but his mental state was clearly at its limit; he was about to collapse.

He truly couldn’t hold on any longer.

When Zheng Shan’s several consecutive fastball attacks suddenly switched to slow, he exerted too much force and ended up twisting his foot.

Due to inertia while moving, he fell heavily.

The racket slipped from his hand, and the ping-pong ball dropped to the ground.

Pearl-like sweat beads fell onto the ground as the young man’s mind blanked for a moment, instinctively trying to stand up, only to find his legs trembling gently, completely out of control.

The referee called for a pause, and his support team immediately ran over to assist him, with someone urgently calling for a doctor.

Zheng Shan was led back to the home court by Zhou Laosi, allowing her to sit down and rest for a while. Zhou Laosi took their prepared medical kit and headed toward the opposite side.

"Hey, brother, try applying some medicine first." Zhou Laosi handed over the medical kit, "How’s it going? Do you want to go to the hospital first?"

The opponent didn’t expect the first one to show concern would be him. After staring for a moment, he remembered to thank him, "Thank you so much, brother."

"It’s nothing; it’s just a small competition, not real prize evaluation." Zhou Laosi smiled and said, "Take a rest. If it’s not possible, then go see a doctor first and then schedule another match."

After saying this, he returned to the home court.

Lin Nianhe couldn’t help but say to him, "Indeed, Fourth Brother is sly and cunning."

Zhou Laosi replied, "Teacher Lin taught me well."

After a trip to Xiangjiang, Zhou Laosi transformed.

He was naturally smart, having witnessed and participated in a confrontation in Xiangjiang closely, and he had an epiphany.

Sure enough, shortly after, the referee came over to inform them that the opponent conceded, and Zheng Shan was the champion.

Zheng Shan was still drinking water, preparing to continue playing later. But she suddenly became the champion, leaving the little girl completely stupefied.

She blinked, staring blankly at the referee, saying seriously, "But the match isn’t over yet."

The referee sweated profusely, recalling what Wei Hongwei had just said to him, reiterating, "Yes, but your opponent is injured, and based on the current score, you’ve won."

Zheng Shan froze for a moment, then accepted this reasoning.

Not far away, Wei Hongwei smugly said to Fang Ping, "See, who understands their apprentice best? If I hadn’t let him say that, Shanshan definitely wouldn’t agree to end the match!"

Fang Ping glanced at him, hitting the nail on the head, "Did you figure out how your apprentice really won?"

Wei Hongwei: "..."

Fang Ping stood up, patted his shoulder, and mockingly said, "You taught her the techniques, but the one teaching her tactics is the real master."

Wei Hongwei: "..."

The slightly rough awards ceremony was conducted directly after the match. Surprisingly, the opponent didn’t hurry to leave; instead, they generously joined in applause, cheering for Zheng Shan.

On August 3, 1978, Zheng Shan won her first gold medal in her life.

Her coach, Wei Hongwei, was overwhelmed with joy, constantly murmuring, "This is my student."

He then watched as his student trotted over to Lin Nianhe and hung the gold medal around her neck.

"Sister Hehe, it’s for you."

Zheng Shan said.

"We agreed on it."

Her eyes were especially bright, no longer showing the hollow emptiness from that year.