Chapter Sixteen: Hua Zi, You Just Can't Grasp It!

Early morning, just as dawn broke, Jiang Hong was already dressed and ready. Since the competition was set to start at eight o’clock, they needed to leave ahead of time.

“Old Jiang, our school’s past results haven’t been impressive, so don’t be too nervous,” Li Hua said.

Li Hua was also preparing to supervise the competition. Last night, he joked that if Jiang Hong performed poorly, he would transform into an executioner. But this morning, worried that Jiang Hong might be overly tense, he urged him to relax.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll make my move,” Jiang Hong said, tossing his tennis bag over his shoulder and turning to leave the dormitory.

The corridor was dark, but with each step Jiang Hong took, a motion-activated light flickered on, giving off an inexplicable air of swagger.

Li Hua watched from behind, thinking only one thing: “Damn, he’s showing off again!”

They had arranged to meet Yu Lin at the bus stop at the school gate yesterday. Just as Jiang Hong and Li Hua stepped out, a voice called out to him.

“Jiang Hong, over here!”

When he saw who it was, Jiang Hong was somewhat surprised—it was Xia Ling.

Given the unpleasant scene from yesterday, it was unexpected that Xia Ling would greet him so casually today.

She was definitely not ordinary.

“Good morning,” Jiang Hong nodded, acknowledging her greeting.

In truth, Xia Ling’s reason for approaching wasn’t out of affection—the two had barely exchanged ten words. It was because yesterday, Su Cheng had sparked her competitive spirit.

Usually, she was the center of attention among her group, but yesterday, Jiang Hong seemed to ignore Su Cheng entirely.

So, Xia Ling was determined to win Jiang Hong over.

As Jiang Hong began to walk past her, Xia Ling lightly brushed her hair back, but her expression froze the next moment—he simply passed by without so much as a pause.

“President!” Jiang Hong greeted Yu Lin.

“Good morning, did you rest well?” Yu Lin asked. As the tennis club’s president, he naturally paid extra attention to their promising player.

From what he knew, Jiang Hong hadn’t participated in any formal matches before. Friendly matches were one thing; official competitions another. Many players fail to perform at their best due to nerves and psychological pressure.

It wasn’t uncommon for highly ranked players with excellent skills to falter during Grand Slams or Masters tournaments.

“Not bad,” Jiang Hong shrugged with a relaxed expression.

During his six months as a sales graduate before his rebirth, he had developed thick skin. He wasn’t going to lose sleep over a match few people would watch.

Seeing Jiang Hong’s demeanor, Yu Lin nodded.

“As long as you play normally, your skills should be more than enough.”

Just then, the bus arrived. Jiang Hong chose a seat near the back, as the tennis court was quite far from their school.

Xia Ling’s eyes lit up when she saw his seat and was about to approach, but suddenly someone sat beside him—none other than Li Hua. Xia Ling glared at the chubby young man with annoyance.

“Old Jiang, I saw Xia Ling greet you earlier. Why did you seem like you didn’t want to acknowledge her?” Li Hua asked.

Jiang Hong leaned back in his seat, gazing out at the passing scenery calmly.

“Women only distract me from playing.”

Li Hua sighed dramatically. “That girl has bad taste if she’s after you. If she came to me, I’d never let her suffer any injustice!”

Jiang Hong glanced at Li Hua. The term “simp” hadn’t emerged yet; the popular trend was still “nice guy.”

Patting Li Hua on the shoulder, Jiang Hong said earnestly, “Huazi, take my advice—you don’t stand a chance.”

Li Hua rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah? You’re so confident, why don’t you handle it?”

Frankly, since his rebirth, Jiang Hong hadn’t really ventured far from school. Where once skyscrapers stood, now there were only fields of wheat. Life moved slowly, and the streets were free from the hurried crowd.

After about forty minutes, they finally reached their destination and stepped out in single file.

Jiang Hong took a look around; this was probably the largest indoor tennis court in Chang’an. Surrounding the court were several rows of bleachers.

The Chang’an University Tennis Championship had thirty-two slots, with sixteen schools participating and two players from each school.

Players from each school were assigned to either the upper or lower half of the bracket, ensuring teammates wouldn’t face each other until the finals.

Originally, this was to maintain fairness, but when provincial team players from the sports institute joined, things changed.

Every year, the finals ended up being a showdown between those institute players.

Many schools considered abandoning the bracket separation to risk an internal clash, hoping to secure at least one player advancing.

Nonetheless, this half-bracket separation remained intact for this year’s competition.

The draw had been completed days ago, though it assigned tennis clubs rather than individual players, allowing clubs to swap participants within their half-bracket. Every year, schools used this strategy like a game of tactical chess.

Jiang Hong was placed in the upper half; Yu Lin in the lower half.

But for Jiang Hong, which half he was in made no difference—none of the players had reached professional level.

High school competitions were tougher, with players aiming for pro careers or academic advancement through tournaments.

Once in university, most players were tennis enthusiasts without the pressure of exams or pro aspirations; their skill levels often declined.

As time passed, more people filled the tennis court.

“Isn’t this a university competition? Why are there so many spectators who don’t look like students?” a novice in the tennis club asked curiously.

“That’s because Chang’an hosts few tennis competitions annually. The championship is one of the biggest, and since it’s a weekend, tennis fans come to support,” an upperclassman explained.

“Oh, I see!”

Before the competition, Jiang Hong performed some light warm-up exercises. The last thing he wanted was to cramp up during the match due to lack of preparation.

Around 7:30 a.m., Yu Lin called out, “Jiang Hong! It’s time to sign in. The competition is about to start!”

Signing in determined the match schedule, and once completed, there was no going back.

The referees were staff members from the tennis center, with one also serving as the registration secretary.

This young man had graduated from Normal University last year, having participated in two previous championships.

After graduating, he worked at the club, occasionally coaching children.

He was surprised to see Jiang Hong register and turned to Yu Lin.

“Yu Lin, is Wang Li not participating this year?”

The tennis community was small, and even smaller at the university level; everyone knew who the top players were, so a newcomer naturally drew curiosity.

“That’s our secret weapon—he’s here to win the championship!” Yu Lin replied.

“Good luck to you all,” the secretary said, thinking Yu Lin was joking and not taking it seriously. After all, provincial team players competing was like a whole new level of challenge.