Chapter Twenty-Four: I Am the Champion!

Hearing Su Cheng’s cheer, Jiang Hong turned his head and flashed a smile. He bounced the tennis ball twice, but instead of stalling, he gripped it firmly.

Toss, push off, swing!

"Thwack!"

Wang Cheng’s eyes were locked on the ball. After yesterday’s match, he knew Jiang Hong’s serve was his signature weapon. Yet, as the ball streaked toward him like a bolt of green light, he realized he had still underestimated it.

It was impossibly fast, slamming into his half of the court in the blink of an eye. It was precise, too, aimed deliberately for the corner. Even though Wang Cheng gave chase with everything he had, he couldn't reach it. The ball whizzed past his line of sight and out past the baseline.

"ACE!"

15:0!

The spectators, who had previously lost faith in Jiang Hong, suddenly lifted their heads, their spirits reignited by the ace. Back at the baseline, Jiang Hong served again. He wasn't letting up.

"Thwack!"
"Thwack!"
"Thwack!"

Three crisp sounds, three more aces!

"Whoa, another ace! Jiang Hong held his serve!"
"Looking at it this way, Jiang Hong actually has a real chance!"
"Not necessarily. Few players can maintain such a high level of serving for an entire set. If Wang Cheng catches a break, things could change."

The audience member next to them immediately poured cold water on the excitement.

Wang Cheng leaned on his racket, gasping for air. Being served a "love game" was humiliating, and he was desperate to win at least one point. He chased every ball, trying to return them, but he couldn't even touch the ball. These short, explosive sprints were taking a heavy toll on his stamina.

Wang Cheng looked at Jiang Hong, panting. This serve was terrifying. *How did he train to serve like that?* Wang Cheng’s heart grew heavy once more. He had originally planned to win all his service games with drop shots and break Jiang Hong once or twice to take the match, but now, he would have to rethink his strategy.

After the changeover, it was Wang Cheng’s turn to serve. Jiang Hong took his stance, ready to return.

"Thwack!"

Seeing Wang Cheng’s serve, the corner of Jiang Hong’s mouth curled upward. *Now is the time!*

Jiang Hong’s arm whipped forward like a lash, his racket slamming into the ball. A flat forehand drive! This was the most common technique in tennis, and it had one primary advantage: speed!

Wang Cheng had intended to use serve-and-volley tactics again, but he hadn't expected Jiang Hong to choose a deep return. The ball streaked straight toward the baseline. Wang Cheng scrambled backward, forced to twist his body and barely manage a return over the net.

Jiang Hong had anticipated this. With a powerful push, he whipped the ball into the open space on Wang Cheng’s right.

"What... so fast?"

Wang Cheng, still off-balance from his return, could only stare in dismay.

Thwack!

The ball landed and skidded out past the sideline!

0:15!

"Great shot!"
"Keep playing like that!"
"Exactly, keep the pressure on!"

Wang Cheng took a deep breath, reevaluating his tactics. Serve-and-volley was too risky. He played his second-serve conservatively, clearly looking to engage in a rally and find an opening later. Jiang Hong sprinted toward the sideline, snapped his wrist, and powered through the ball with his racket.

Thwack!

"Down the line!"

Wang Cheng had been ready for a cross-court rally, but he hadn't expected Jiang Hong to switch to a down-the-line shot. The ball landed just before the baseline and kicked up sharply.

30:0!

This result caught everyone off guard. No one expected Jiang Hong to go so hard on his first return. Switching from a cross-court trajectory to down the line was difficult enough, but doing it against a serve—which was already faster than a standard return—multiplied the difficulty.

In the first game, Jiang Hong had been testing Wang Cheng’s drop-shot technique. Against deep balls and heavy shots, Wang Cheng’s drop shots had either failed to clear the net or flown out of bounds. *If my drop shots are bad, then I won't let you use yours!* Competition was about playing to one's strengths and avoiding weaknesses; you didn't need every stat to be higher than your opponent's. Sometimes, tactics were more useful than raw data.

Wang Cheng’s expression darkened. "This is bad. Jiang Hong seems to have found a way to counter me!"

Jiang Hong dominated the first set, winning 6-1. During the break, Wang Cheng’s knuckles turned white as he gripped his towel. "Jiang Hong is better than me at serving, returning, and tactics! The only thing I have over him is my drop shot!" But after the first game, Jiang Hong had defended perfectly, keeping up the offensive and denying him any chance to use the drop shot.

Hearing the umpire announce that the break was over, Wang Cheng threw his towel aside. "It's do or die!"

The second set began. Wang Cheng still had no answer for Jiang Hong’s serves and could only scramble to save the ball. Although Jiang Hong held his serve, Wang Cheng’s level seemed to have risen a notch. Jiang Hong, however, did not panic; instead, he felt a surge of excitement. Since he started training, he had never played against someone of such comparable skill. He didn't hold back, putting his full ability on display.

Even though Wang Cheng had entered a "flow state," he was still being run ragged by Jiang Hong’s shots. Wang Cheng was struggling, while Jiang Hong was genuinely enjoying himself.

The score reached 5:1, with Jiang Hong serving. He changed his tactics, no longer suppressing Wang Cheng’s drop shots. Wang Cheng suddenly flicked his wrist, executing a backhand slice that sent the ball drifting lazily toward the net. Jiang Hong had been prepared; he dashed to the front court and lofted the ball high.

As the ball cleared the net, Wang Cheng leaped for an overhead smash, driving the ball to the backcourt!

Jiang Hong tracked the trajectory of the ball, pushing his speed to the absolute limit.

*Squeak!*

Using his left foot as a pivot and his right leg bent, Jiang Hong slid toward the landing spot. He gripped his racket with both hands and whipped a side-armed topspin forehand.

"Thwack!"

The ball, like a bolt of green lightning, slammed directly into the inner corner of the second service box!

"Clang!"

Wang Cheng stood frozen, not even noticing as his racket slipped from his hand. "How is this possible..." Jiang Hong’s speed was too great; he had even managed to chase down a shot that should have been a winner!

"6-1, 6-1, Jiang Hong wins!"

The umpire announced the result, and for a moment, the stadium was silent. But it was only the calm before the volcanic eruption. A second later, the stands exploded.

"Jiang Hong won! He beat Wang Cheng from the provincial team!"
"Jiang Hong is a beast!"
"That’s my brother, we learned to play together, hahaha..." That voice could only be Li Hua’s, sounding incredibly arrogant, as if he were the one who had won.

As the result was confirmed, a jolt seemed to surge through Jiang Hong’s body.

"I am the champion," Jiang Hong whispered to himself. Then, he raised his racket and roared at the top of his lungs, "I am the champion!"