Chapter 60: The Calm One's Defense

Class Thirteen’s strength compared to the seventh grade days wasn’t just about gaining Ming Han; everyone had improved. Their teamwork and defense ranked among the best in their grade.

“To say we can completely shut down Qiang is unrealistic. I only have one demand: play solid defense. Everything else—just play as you practice!” Yu Hang laid out his expectations.

Everyone nodded and quietly clenched their fists. They wanted to win! Winning was a wonderful thing. For these youths, the value victory bestowed upon them was incomparable.

Most of Class Thirteen was at the sidelines, save for a few academic overachievers. They shouted slogans and cheered loudly. Whenever Class Thirteen scored, thunderous applause erupted.

The second quarter began, and the match continued.

Honestly, even Class Seven hadn’t expected Class Thirteen to be such a tough opponent. After all, these two teams had faced each other for three consecutive years and knew each other inside out. They had witnessed Class Thirteen transform drastically.

Qiang intensified his team’s coordination in the second quarter, posting up low while everyone else spread out. If anyone tried to double-team him, he’d immediately pass the ball. Qiang wasn’t a playmaker like Ming Han, able to suddenly dish out a great pass while dribbling. He was an organizer in a set offense; his strong scoring ability often created opportunities for teammates.

But this quarter, it wasn’t Qiang who exploded.

On the second offensive possession, Wu Jianhao pulled up for a sudden jumper over Yu Hang and began his frenzied solo performance.

Wu Jianhao’s individual prowess needed no embellishment; as a member of the school team, he’d averaged 14 points and 6 assists over the past two years—outstanding marks.

Today, Wu Jianhao was on fire. With Class Thirteen focusing their defense on Qiang, Wu Jianhao seemed unstoppable, a reincarnated god of war.

Yu Hang, though not a defensive specialist, could usually keep up with most players. Unfortunately, today he was outplayed.

Midway through the second quarter, Wu Jianhao was playing with high spirits. He held the ball outside the three-point line, and while everyone was still moving, he launched a shot from a meter beyond the arc.

It went in!

The entire court erupted—this was a miracle shot, the kind that’s high difficulty even in professional games.

Wu Jianhao, thrilled, roared at the sky, “I’m going to the finals for the championship!”

Wu Jianhao played point guard; back in seventh grade, people debated whether he or Yu Hang was the best point guard in the grade. But as Yu Hang carried his team in many games, the controversy faded. After all, Yu Hang’s stats last year were terrifying: 22 points and 6 assists per game, ranked third on the sophomore MVP leaderboard.

But that didn’t mean Wu Jianhao considered himself inferior. Yu Hang was an elite shooter, far better than him, but Wu Jianhao was a point guard with no weaknesses; everyone joked he was “Conley”—good at everything but without any signature moves.

After this latest attack, Yu Hang finally called a timeout. If Wu Jianhao kept going like this, the game would slip away. Seven points in half a quarter—had Wu Jianhao taken something last night?

“We need to reposition our defense. I have no matchup advantage and can’t contain him,” Yu Hang admitted without fuss. Everyone has their hot streaks.

Da Xu grumbled, “Wu Jianhao usually acts like a clueless kid, always grinning at pretty girls in the hallway. Who would’ve thought he could be so fierce?”

Ming Han shot Da Xu a glance, thinking, “Everyone has their fierce moments, so why are you always so steady with your average 2 points, 2 rebounds, and 2 assists?”

“I’ll guard him!” said Chaoyang. “No matter who we switch, the other spot will be mismatched. Only our guard line is similar in height. Besides, Class Seven’s shooting guard isn’t the kind who can dominate a game on his own.”

Ming Han looked at Chaoyang in surprise. Usually so sparing with words, suddenly he stunned everyone. Ming Han agreed—it was the best plan.

Chaoyang was bulkier than Yu Hang, with speed and other advantages. His catch-and-shoot was reliable.

Of the five, Ming Han and Chaoyang interacted the least. Chaoyang was somewhat solitary, preferring to read novels on his phone, most of which carried the same cultural undertones as certain Japanese films.

Yu Hang found Chaoyang’s suggestion workable. “Chaoyang, it’s up to you! Today the team depends on you.”

A great team cannot rely solely on one person. Anyone could break out, and that made a team truly formidable.

Back on the court!

Class Seven switched the focus to Wu Jianhao, letting him freestyle.

Wu Jianhao saw Chaoyang defending him and didn’t care much. He was familiar with Yu Hang and Ming Han, but the others weren’t known for individual talent, so he didn’t take them seriously.

He drove the ball hard against Chaoyang, tried to break through, but Chaoyang slapped the ball from behind. Wu Jianhao lost control. Da Xu, quick-eyed and nimble, snatched it and passed long to Yu Hang, who scored two points.

Being stripped like that was awkward!

Wu Jianhao’s expression soured; he already had 13 points, just 7 away from his middle school scoring record.

Next possession, Wu Jianhao dribbled. The Class Seven forward tried to set a screen, but Wu Jianhao waved him off. He wanted to take Chaoyang one-on-one, to prove he was unstoppable today.

“My friend, I’m about to hit a mid-range right over you, and you’ll be powerless!” Wu Jianhao declared to Chaoyang.

Chaoyang remained calm, as if he hadn’t heard. He was never talkative and was cooler-headed than most. Wu Jianhao’s trash talk barely fazed him.

Seeing Chaoyang’s indifference, Wu Jianhao felt like exploding. “You wooden block, say something!”

Wu Jianhao dribbled low with his right, suddenly changed direction. Chaoyang didn’t lose his defensive stance but did give up a bit of space. Wu Jianhao drove in, aiming for a stylish pull-up jumper.

He released the shot!

Chaoyang followed from behind and pressed down on the ball!

Pressed down?

Wu Jianhao hugged the ball, utterly bewildered!

If you blocked it, fine, but pressing it back into my arms—what’s this? Can’t you show some respect?

The referee blew the whistle.

“Jump ball.”

Wu Jianhao glared at Chaoyang in frustration. Chaoyang calmly ignored him, walking past as if he’d just done something trivial.

Watching this, the audience below burst into laughter, unable to contain themselves.