Chapter 011: The Golden Age

Ling Huanzhen was already past his prime. Over the last two years, he had been plagued by injuries. Countless times he had wanted to retire, only to be held back by the National Team, who hoped he would stay on to mentor the rookies. Yet, the basketball world never again saw the glory of the Sheng Xingming era.

Ling Huanzhen, fighting as a lone warrior… likely couldn’t hold on any longer.

For a moment, the three people in the dorm fell silent, taking out their phones to check the Weibo trending topics. In just a few minutes, Ling Huanzhen’s name occupied seven of the top ten spots. Countless comments lamented that Ling Huanzhen’s retirement symbolized the final curtain call of the Men’s Basketball Golden Age.

Zhou Zhexiao leaned back against the ladder, quietly digesting the news of “Ling Huanzhen’s retirement.”

A hero in his twilight. If Sheng Xingming were still alive, perhaps he would have faced the same ending.

Suddenly, someone tugged at him. Xia Chiyi’s voice rang in his ear. “Lean over a bit!”

“Hm?” Zhou Zhexiao didn’t know what the other wanted to do.

Xia Chiyi bumped him lightly with his shoulder, handing him a wireless earbud.

Zhou Zhexiao looked at the small object in his palm. Almost every young person he saw at the airport had these stuffed in their ears.

“Why aren’t you wearing it? Left ear…” Seeing Zhou Zhexiao’s lack of reaction, Xia Chiyi simply took it back, brushed aside the hair by his ear, and stuffed the little device in.

Xia Chiyi’s fingertips were warm, like fleeting wings grazing the shell of Zhou Zhexiao’s ear.

Immediately after, a long-absent voice came through the earphone. Ling Huanzhen had shed the sharpness of his youth; what came through now was a deep, restrained tone tempered by time.

Xia Chiyi held his phone up in front of Zhou Zhexiao. on the small screen, the thirty-seven-year-old Ling Huanzhen sat before the cameras. This would be the last time he appeared in public wearing his team uniform.

The opening was a formulaic round of thanks—thanking the fans, the Basketball Association, the coaches, the opponents, and so on.

The speech wasn’t long. He reviewed his path and achievements over the past twenty-plus years, his expression remaining calm and steady. It wasn’t until the very end that his eyes suddenly reddened, and his voice choked up.

“Finally, I still want to say that I am unreconciled. I spent ten years, yet I still couldn’t reach your level of achievement, nor could I take Chinese Men’s Basketball to a higher, further place. How I wish… the person giving this retirement speech today was you. I hope that in my lifetime, I can see an era that surpasses yours.”

Ling Huanzhen didn’t say that person’s name, but the eyes of every veteran player, coach, and even the media workers present at the press conference invariably turned red.

Putting down the phone, the dorm room remained heavy with silence.

Little Fatty looked at his roommates and scratched the back of his head. “Although I don’t watch basketball, I know Ling Huanzhen has been trying really hard to lead the newcomers these past few years. It’s a pity the talent pool is thin; he couldn’t carry them. With all his injuries… at least he can finally rest now.”

Ye Chaoying tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and let out a deep breath. “Ah… I used to be an anti-fan of Ling Huanzhen. I was flaming him online just three months ago.”

“What were you flaming him for?” Xia Chiyi asked.

“His mid-range shot stank! Back when Jiao Yingfeng was on the perimeter, Ling Huanzhen’s weakness wasn’t that obvious. But after Jiao Yingfeng retired due to injury, his terrible mid-range game became super glaring,” Ye Chaoying said.

“You didn’t need to flame him though… imagine how bad he’d feel seeing that…” Little Fatty felt some sympathy for the man.

“It really did stink. But his rebounding was unmatched in the CBA,” Zhou Zhexiao spoke up. “And while his shooting was terrible, he always managed to make the shot at the most critical moments. That’s why, besides the nickname ‘King of Bricks,’ he had another nickname.”

Little Fatty asked curiously, “What nickname?”

“Mr. Clutch. The more critical the moment, the more likely he was to score. So, there was an unwritten rule in international matches.”

“Aww, don’t stop halfway! What unwritten rule?” Little Fatty’s eyes went wide, filled with curiosity.

Zhou Zhexiao answered, “A game is forty minutes. For the first thirty-seven minutes, Ling Huanzhen can shoot however he wants—he won’t make it anyway. But in the last three minutes, guard him with your life. You absolutely cannot let him take the clutch shot.”

“Sounds badass. Mr. Clutch…”

Xia Chiyi was somewhat surprised. He felt that anyone praised by Zhou Zhexiao must be truly outstanding.

“Even though I don’t regret flaming him now, the final curtain falling on the Golden Generation… it’s really heartbreaking,” Ye Chaoying said.

Xia Chiyi looked at his phone and said in a very serious tone, “The curtain has fallen, but there will be another prologue.”

Zhou Zhexiao looked over. The boy’s face, usually carrying a hint of childishness, suddenly possessed a sense of strength. It was as if following his gaze, one could hear the roar of a top-tier arena.

That night, the four dorm mates lay in their beds chatting—about basketball, about the provincial team selection.

Little Fatty hugged his quilt and whimpered, saying he hadn’t realized there were three basketball big shots in the dorm, and he was the most useless one.

Xia Chiyi lay on the edge of his bed, grinning. “Little Fatty, you are very important! Without you, the bottom shelf in the bathroom would go unused!”

Damage: low. Insult: extreme. Little Fatty continued to hug his quilt and whimper.

“But can anyone explain the five positions in a basketball game to me? There are two guards alone, I don’t know the difference. And forwards are split into big and small! What does a center do? Is it the same as a center forward in soccer?”

Ye Chaoying rubbed the back of his head. “You don’t play basketball, how do I explain this to you?”

Xia Chiyi smiled. “Pang Shuai, do you play video games?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s use games to explain. Think of a basketball game as a five-man squad. The Point Guard (PG) is the team’s strongest Support. This role requires flexible dribbling and speed. He isn’t the best at taking heads, but he is the commander and control tower on the court, the tactical organizer responsible for passing the ball to teammates and creating scoring opportunities.”

As Xia Chiyi finished, Ye Chaoying jumped in excitedly. “The Shooting Guard (SG) is like the Marksman/ADC. They lie in ambush near the three-point line, sniping from a distance. This position requires flexible positioning, otherwise, they can’t get open shots.”

Pang Shuai looked like a player in the tutorial village, listening to the veterans’ explanations with the expression of an elementary school student.

Xia Chiyi continued, “The Small Forward (SF) is like an Assassin, and the basketball is his dagger. Once the Assassin gets the dagger, he uses ‘Flash’ to cut into the opponent’s paint—score, score, and score again!”

Pang Shuai nodded vigorously. “So the Small Forward is the professional kill-stealer on the court?”

“You can understand it that way.” Xia Chiyi rubbed his chin. “As for the Center (C), that’s usually the tallest person on the team, similar to the Tank in a game. They bear the main defensive responsibilities, like blocking shots and grabbing rebounds.”

“The Power Forward (PF), often called the ‘Second Center’ domestically, grabs rebounds, defends, boxes out… basically the team’s Off-Tank.”

“Mhm, got it, got it!” Pang Shuai nodded emphatically.

Xia Chiyi laughed. “You got zip. These are the traditional basketball divisions. In modern basketball, positions have become very blurred. Players on strong teams can not only play Support but also open fire like Snipers, act as Assassins, and even knock over Tanks.”

Pang Shuai looked at Xia Chiyi, then at Ye Chaoying, and let out a long breath. “You guys have it tough!”

“Haha, it’s tough, but we enjoy it.”

“Hey, is Zhou Zhexiao asleep? Why hasn’t he said a word?” Ye Chaoying asked.

Xia Chiyi immediately rolled over, lay on his pillow, looked across at Zhou Zhexiao, and poked the top of his slightly curly hair with a finger.

“I haven’t played video games, so I can’t contribute,” Zhou Zhexiao replied slowly.

Ye Chaoying asked, “Fake, right? I don’t believe it. League of Legends? Honor of Kings?”

“No.”

Pang Shuai followed up, “Then… Crossfire?”

“No.”

Ye Chaoying slapped his thigh. “Right, you grew up in America! Then you must have played World of Warcraft!”

“No.”

“Haven’t played WoW either… then… Contra?”

“No.”

Xia Chiyi suddenly broke the formation of the conversation and asked, “Then have you ever liked anyone?”

Pang Shuai and Ye Chaoying’s eyes instantly lit up. With Zhou Zhexiao’s looks, he must have been very popular in America.

Who knew Zhou Zhexiao would give the same uninspired answer: “No.”

Sighs came from three directions in the dorm.

Ye Chaoying asked again, “Then what do you usually play?”

“Basketball.”

Ye Chaoying covered his face. “What kind of boring life is that? Basketball, basketball… besides basketball, is there anything else in your life?”

“No.”

He didn’t know if it was an illusion, but Zhou Zhexiao seemed to pause for a split second before that last “No.”

Xia Chiyi didn’t know if he was being sentimental, but he felt those two letters sounded incredibly empty.

Given Zhou Zhexiao’s former lifestyle as a rich playboy, it was almost impossible that he hadn’t played games.

He probably… just forgot.

Xia Chiyi remembered the “Zhou Zhexiao Care Manual”—no, the “Precautions”—his mom sent him. Item three: Do not let him feel out of place with those around him.

Just as he was about to say something, Ye Chaoying beat him to it. “No way, Zhou Zhexiao—a life without gaming is incomplete! Wait for the weekend, Bro will take you to the internet cafe for duo queue!”

“I have to practice on the weekend.” Zhou Zhexiao rejected him simply and bluntly.

The one who ended up heartbroken was Ye Chaoying. “What… you’re even practicing on the weekend? I beg you to take a break?”

“Practice cannot stop,” Zhou Zhexiao replied. “Ye Chaoying, you have to believe that in the matches you’ve experienced in this life, you’ve already lost before it even came down to talent.”

“Huh?”

“Because you don’t work hard enough.”

“Damn! Xia Chiyi, control your man!”

“Okay, I’ll control him right now.” Xia Chiyi reached his hand through the bars of the headboard and rubbed the top of Zhou Zhexiao’s head.

Zhou Zhexiao remained motionless, until he heard Xia Chiyi say, “I’ll practice with you this weekend.”

Very soft, yet very serious.

Xia Chiyi turned over and lay back on his pillow, the scent of orange body wash diffusing through the air.

Zhou Zhexiao’s taste buds hadn’t touched anything sweet, yet from his heart to his fingertips, it felt as if a subtle sweetness had permeated him.

Gradually, Ye Chaoying and Little Fatty fell asleep; the sound of their breathing rose and fell in the dorm.

Xia Chiyi stayed under his covers, watching videos on his phone alone, getting more awake the more he scrolled.

His bed and Zhou Zhexiao’s were arranged head-to-head. Worried that the light from his screen might keep the other awake, Xia Chiyi rolled over onto his stomach and peeked through the shelf at the head of the bed to observe him.

From this angle, Xia Chiyi could only see the whorl of hair on Zhou Zhexiao’s head and the bridge of his high nose, along with a hint of his thick eyelashes.

“He must be asleep,” Xia Chiyi mumbled softly.

Unexpectedly, the person on the other side lifted his eyes. The moment those eyelashes trembled, Xia Chiyi’s heart inexplicably tightened.