Who to pass the ball to, to Zeng Yang? Zhou Ziang, like a crocodile ready to strike at any moment, made it extremely difficult for Zeng Yang to perform normally under his tight defense.
Mao Yi decisively passed the ball to Xiao Xian.
"Xiao Xin, stick to him," Fang De pressed urgently as soon as Mao Yi made the pass, immediately sticking close with his defense, unable to shake him off.
"Well done, Xiao Xian." Qu Yang squeezed out a cheer, but felt a chill beside his ear—Zhou Ziang had left him to go defend Xiao Xian directly, "What’s going on, a man guarding a woman?"
Fang Xin was still too late; with the ball in hand, Xiao Xian was already sprinting towards the basket at full speed, while another person was rushing up even faster.
"Oh my, how can those two have so much stamina, they can still run so fast. Look at that female player, what a beautiful running form, like a graceful gazelle," the onlookers outside the basketball court became excited too. Basketball is a combination of willpower and skill, and at this point in the game, most players were already exhausted. That near hundred-meter dash speed requires the will to win.
With her ponytail swinging in the air, she took long strides, dribbling with grace.
Xiao Xian was approaching the basket, replaying the shooting motions in her mind—three steps to layup or off the backboard, which was the safest, which was it going to be?
The sound of footsteps following closely behind could be felt on the concrete beneath Xiao Xian’s feet as her brain whirred into action.
"Zeng Yang, don’t just stand there, go for the rebound," Mao Yi knew Xiao Xian hadn’t made many shots throughout the game; her shooting wasn’t good.
Qu Yang also wanted to chase, but he was completely out of strength; he could only muster the energy to move forward.
"Ah, that male player has caught up, it’s hopeless," the nearby spectators commented, familiar with Zhou Ziang’s jumping ability and rebounding skills from past games.
"Only two points behind now, one more basket and we’re only one point down," Xiao Xian could smell the fresh grass scent from Zhou Ziang.
No matter, go for broke, Xiao Xian suddenly leapt. Zhou Ziang had already caught up from behind.
On the square nearing four o’clock, everyone fell silent in those few seconds, breathlessly awaiting the crucial basket that would determine the outcome of the game.
The cold January wind howled, but it couldn’t dissipate the excitement in people’s eyes.
Zhou Ziang could clearly see the back of Xiao Xian’s head, even her pink ears, his hand almost touching the basketball, just a few centimeters away, and he would have snatched the ball.
However, that very back of the head in front of him kept blocking his view.
Qu Yang stopped not far away, beneath the hoop, a world that seemingly no longer belonged to him, the limelight was completely stolen, a first-time feeling for him.
Mao Yi had a thought flash through his mind: who said Xiao Xian wasn’t good at shooting, she is indeed good, perfect every single time, as long as she can take flight, just like a lyrebird, soaring up.
Sweat flew out, and a rainbow seemed to hang in the air. Sweat streaked across both their faces, indistinguishable whether it belonged to him or to her, none of that mattered anymore.
Almost at the same moment, an invisible yet tremendous force of collision exploded beside the two. (To be continued... If you work, please go to Qidian (qidian.com) to cast your recommendation ticket and monthly ticket. Your support is my greatest motivation.)