SSD 64. Qinghuo vs. Kongxin: A Defeat

The sting of sweat, the ragged breathing, on the court, everything felt cruel for the weaker team. The cheers of the crowd, the blinding lights, the glances from their opponents, each one amplified the pressure, threatening to drag them down completely.

All they could do was grit their teeth and endure.

Ten minutes, nine minutes, eight minutes, seven minutes… They felt time slipping away, while their strength drained even faster. Their steps grew heavy, their vision dim.

In the end, the outcome no longer seemed to matter. They had come to understand, in no uncertain terms, just how wide the gap truly was.

The match was almost over.

“Zhu Xuyao!”

He snapped his head around and caught the ball that came flying toward him.

The countdown had begun.

Zhu Xuyao pivoted and charged toward the basket. Tan Ren threw up his arms to block his sightline, but Zhu Xuyao gritted his teeth and pushed past him with sheer force.

The scoreboard read “113 to 74.” There was no longer any suspense about how this game would end.

But still…

From the stands came a synchronized countdown. “Ten!”

“Was today’s game a disaster? Yes. Right now, the score is 55 to 32. To the audience, it probably seems like ‘so-called four-game winning streak dark horse wasn’t all that special after all.’ We lost our honor, our victory, our confidence… we lost all those precious things.”

“But now that we’ve recognized the extent of the gap, we should ask ourselves, what do we still have left?”

The spirit of competition. And the final shred of dignity that comes with standing on the court.

“However far we can go, let’s go as far as we possibly can.”

Bearing the humiliation of their captain’s injury and the rage from losing their main players, Zhu Xuyao gripped the ball and sprinted toward the basket.

At the very least, let this final point be theirs. A last strike of determination, if nothing else, to prevent this match from ending in utter disgrace.

The crowd’s countdown rang out like thunder. “Nine!”

Zhu Xuyao had barely taken two steps before Zhuo Changyi rushed in to block him. But Xu Fanming shoved forward with his back, shielding Zhu Xuyao with all his strength.

“Go!”

“Eight!”

Zhu Xuyao broke through into the paint. His mind was spinning, his body still reacting on instinct. And just then, a hand reached out beside him—

“Seven!”

He Jiang threw his body in front of Xing Yunyang with a sharp block and shot Zhu Xuyao a glance. “Shoot!”

“Six!”

Zhu Xuyao aimed at the basket and launched the heavy ball with all his strength.

“Five!”

The ball struck the rim with a loud clang, then bounced out, straight into a familiar pair of arms. Zhu Xuyao turned his head in shock and met Wen Qin’s determined gaze. His heart gave a jolt.

“Four!”

The ball dropped into Wen Qin’s hands, but Peng Ning was already closing in with a smile. Wen Qin faked twice with his shoulders, barely managing to shield the ball from being snatched away.

“Three!”

They still had room to move. Zhu Xuyao caught on instantly. “Wen Qin, pass it to me!”

“Two—”

The ball flew into Zhu Xuyao’s arms. He adjusted his footing at once—

“One!”

The ball struck the rim, and sank into the basket.

BEEP! BEEP!

The shrill whistle cut through the court at the exact moment the crowd finished their countdown. Zhu Xuyao looked up, stunned. The referee raised his hand and signaled. “Black number 13, traveling violation.”

Then he pointed toward the scoreboard. “Last basket is void. Final score: 113 to 74.”

The game was over.

In the locker room, everyone changed in silence. Their sweat-drenched jerseys were balled up in their hands. No one spoke.

It was a silence like death.

Xu Fanming felt like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart tight. Even breathing hurt.

“If only—”

The words barely made it past his lips before they broke off. Xu Fanming clenched his jaw and fought back the surge of frustration. Sweat dripped from his chin like tears.

They had already done everything they could. They had poured everything they had into the game.

But they were too slow. Every movement, every reaction, every pass had fallen behind.

If only he had moved faster. If only Wen Qin had dodged that ball. If only Zhu Xuyao hadn’t made that mistake. If only they had been just a little stronger.

No, none of it mattered anymore. Xu Fanming knew it with painful clarity. At a moment like this, blaming any one teammate would only make everything worse.

There were no excuses. Luck didn’t matter. Basketball was a team sport. The only victory that counted was one earned together.

But even knowing that, the bitterness left him utterly drained. That overwhelming sense of powerlessness hit harder than any loss he had ever felt.

Perhaps accepting his own limits really was the hardest thing of all.

Suddenly, Wen Qin stepped forward and broke the icy silence. He bowed deeply to everyone and said,

“…I’m sorry.”

Wen Qin’s voice trembled with sobs. He was clutching a wristband tightly in his hand. The sight of him in such a mess stunned everyone into silence, each person wearing a complicated expression.

He Jiang sat on the bench and looked away with a calm expression. “You don’t need to apologize. This wasn’t your fault.”

Those words made Zhu Xuyao’s eyes sting. He turned his back and buried his face deep into the locker.

Defeat, frustration, shame, sorrow, bitterness, churned in the narrow locker room until they dissolved into a tormenting, oppressive silence. Even the air felt suffocating.

What were they supposed to do now? The playoffs had only just begun. What future awaited them?

Did they really have what it took to make it to the finals, to win the championship, to go national?

They had given everything they had in today’s game. By the end, even breathing burned. Their rhythm collapsed, strength gave out, sweat blurred their vision, and they were dizzy from exhaustion.

But those five towering figures, Xing Yunyang, Zhuo Changyi, Tan Ren, Yuan Dan, Peng Ning, any one of them was more than a match for them.

This game had drained them completely.

“Where’s the captain?” Xu Fanming suddenly asked, frowning. “Did anyone call Pan Yuan? Is he okay?”

Wen Qin’s fingers curled into a tight grasp. Zhu Xuyao hesitated, then reached into his pocket.

Just then, the sound of familiar footsteps came from the doorway. Everyone turned their ears toward it.

Three seconds later, Fang Ruihan appeared in the doorway of the locker room, followed closely by a worried-looking Pan Yuan.

“Cap—”

Xu Fanming’s voice caught in his throat.

A strip of gauze covered Fang Ruihan’s nose, faintly stained with dried blood. His shirt was disheveled, his lips were dry and cracked. His face was pale, but his eyes remained sharp, and his steps were steady.

He already knew the outcome of the game.

Wen Qin’s tears spilled like a waterfall. Zhu Xuyao turned around. Xu Fanming clenched his brow in pain. He Jiang rose from his seat.

A full minute of silence passed.

It felt like an eternity.

Finally, looking at his teammates, drenched in sweat and weighed down with fatigue, Fang Ruihan fell silent for a moment, then softened his tone, “You’ve all worked hard.”

Just one sentence, and everyone’s tears burst free.

There was no need to say anything more.

While the team stayed behind to recover in the locker room, Fang Ruihan stepped alone into the hallway outside the gym. The audience was gradually dispersing. A few athletes were already exiting through the back entrance to board the school buses.

Fang Ruihan narrowed his eyes, quietly watching those familiar backs in the distance. Clad in red jerseys, their expressions calm and composed. To them, even victory was nothing more than routine, hardly worth mentioning.

At that moment, Fang Ruihan suddenly had the urge to pull out a cigarette and light it, even though he had quit smoking a long time ago.

Earlier on the court, he had gotten injured while protecting a teammate, and was forced to leave the game for emergency treatment. He could imagine how hard his teammates must have fought after that, how grueling the match must have become.

He had been worried too. Even while the doctor was bandaging him, he sat there restlessly, thinking about how to return to the court as quickly as possible and reunite with his brothers.

They must have needed him badly.

But his body had failed him. That blow had made stars burst behind his eyes, nearly deafened him. While he was being cleaned up in the infirmary, his nosebleed kept flowing in thick streams, frightening Pan Yuan so badly that she frantically reached out to anyone she could for help.

By the time the bleeding was finally stopped and the dizziness faded, the match had already ended.

Seeing the glaring numbers on the scoreboard 113 to 74, Fang Ruihan, for a brief second, lost all will to keep walking. It was as if his strength had been drained from him entirely.

This was Qinghuo’s first crushing defeat, but it was Huoyan’s second.

That familiar sense of failure… was something he never wanted to experience a third time.

Kongxin had become their tribulation.

“You’re the captain of Qinghuo this year, aren’t you?” A pair of leather shoes appeared before him, cutting off his train of thought. “Fang Ruihan, right?”

Fang Ruihan looked up. In front of him stood a bald man with a commanding voice, smiling at him warmly.

Fang Ruihan immediately straightened, collected himself, and nodded politely. “Yes, Coach Yang.”

“I remember you. I think I saw you at last year’s competition too.” The man extended a hand and gave Fang Ruihan’s shoulder a light pat.

Fang Ruihan smiled faintly. The man stepped up beside him and leaned against the wall, just as he did. Then he took a cigarette out of his pocket and glanced over at Fang Ruihan. “Want one?”

Fang Ruihan smiled and shook his head. “No, thank you, Coach Yang.” The man lit the cigarette for himself and took a slow drag.

Exhaling a plume of white smoke, he said, “From Huoyan to Qinghuo. Quite an interesting name choice.”

Then he turned and asked, “How’s Old Qiu doing? Why didn’t he come today?”

“Coach Qiu is away on a work trip out of province,” Fang Ruihan replied. “But he called me last night and asked me to send you his regards.”

“Haha, I knew it. That old fox is nothing but a coward.”

Fang Ruihan’s gaze flickered, but he said nothing.

The bald man stubbed out his cigarette against the wall and tossed the butt into the trash bin. As he turned to leave, he glanced back with a smile. “Still, for this year’s game, I will say this much. It’s obvious you’ve improved a lot. That No. 10 center, and the No. 6 small forward, both are solid players with real potential.”

“You’ve already won four games in a row. You’re ranked second in your division for the point race, right?” The man chuckled. “Then I’ll see you again in the playoffs.”

Fang Ruihan took a deep breath, looked the man in the eye, and gave a firm nod. “…Yes.”

“You’re Coach Qiu’s team after all. You should be capable of more than this.” The man gave Fang Ruihan’s shoulder a satisfied pat. “Keep at it. I look forward to seeing even better from you.”

As the bald coach walked away, Fang Ruihan stared after him, lost in thought, until his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a missed call from Coach Qiu.

No one was in the mood to talk. After changing out of their uniforms, everyone packed up quietly and left on their own.

Xu Fanming could not find Zhu Xuyao, the captain, or Wen Qin, so he had to leave by himself. Before heading out, he paused and glanced across the now-empty gymnasium. He was not sure why, but he knew he was looking for He Jiang.

In the end, he spotted He Jiang beneath the basket, talking with a vaguely familiar figure.

It was Yuan Dan.

The two of them had already changed into their casual clothes and were speaking quietly, an occasional calm smile surfacing on their faces. They seemed to have intentionally avoided the crowd, as if the meeting had been planned.

They were old teammates from high school, once played together, now catching up after the match. There was nothing particularly wrong with it.

Xu Fanming hesitated for a moment, then pulled back his complicated gaze and decided to head back to campus on his own.

This match had left him utterly drained. He needed rest.

On the bus, Xu Fanming leaned his head against the rattling window. He was the only passenger, aside from the silent driver. He did not know how much time had passed when a wave of sourness suddenly rose in his chest. Frustration, grief, and a strange sense of loss churned together.

The stillness made his thoughts drift, but he stubbornly refused to let his mind wander.

In the end, he closed his tired eyes, and in the swaying bus, let himself gradually drift into sleep.

After changing, He Jiang had actually planned to go back with Xu Fanming.

When the game ended, Xu Fanming’s mood had clearly been terrible. His downcast, repressed expression had made it painful to look at.

But the moment He Jiang stepped out, Xu Fanming had already disappeared. When he lifted his gaze again, someone else familiar was already standing in front of him.

“Long time no see, He Jiang.”

He Jiang shook his hand with a soft smile. “Yuan Dan.”

The two chatted briefly by the court, just catching up on old times. After a few minutes, He Jiang learned that Yuan Dan had managed to get into the university he had set his sights on and had since joined Kongxin’s basketball team. He never thought he would meet He Jiang again on the court.

“Your skills are still as sharp as ever,” Yuan Dan said with a smile.

“Thanks. You’ve improved a lot too… very impressive.”

They exchanged a glance and shared a quiet laugh.

After a few seconds, Yuan Dan hesitated, then finally summoned his courage and asked in a tentative voice, “He Jiang, actually… there’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you.”

He Jiang gave a slight nod. “Mm, I can probably guess.”

“You’re still as sharp as ever.” Yuan Dan smiled, but He Jiang said nothing.

Even though He Jiang clearly had no intention of going into it, and even if he never got an answer, Yuan Dan still wanted to ask. It was like a knot that had been stuck in his heart for far too long.

“Why didn’t you choose a professional career in sports back then?”

As soon as he said it, Yuan Dan felt a wave of nervousness. He saw He Jiang press his lips together, his flickering gaze seeming to weigh something.

Seeing that He Jiang did not seem intent on avoiding the topic, Yuan Dan went a step further. “I heard someone say… it was because you got injured and lost your qualification to compete. Is that true?”

He Jiang smiled.

It was a rumor that had never quite gone away. But now, as he said it aloud, Yuan Dan seemed to realize the flaw in it. “Then again, if you were too injured to play, you wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

He Jiang stayed quiet for a moment, then said, “It’s getting late. Let’s leave it at that for today.” Seeing the disappointment on Yuan Dan’s face, he added, “Let’s exchange contact info first. We can continue next time if we get the chance.”

Yuan Dan immediately pulled out his phone. Seeing that He Jiang was getting ready to leave, he reluctantly tried to keep him a little longer. “How about we grab a meal later? My teammates already left, and I’m free the rest of the day. What about you?”

He Jiang smiled and shook his head, scanned Yuan Dan’s WeChat QR code, and waved. “I’ve got some things to do today. We’ll eat together another time. I’m heading back. Take care.”

After saying goodbye to Yuan Dan, He Jiang jogged around the gym, searching the area—but there was no sign of Xu Fanming. He pulled out his phone and sent another WeChat message.

Still no reply.

He must have gone back already.

He Jiang sighed, then went to hail a cab.

It wasn’t until he had settled into the taxi that the exhaustion hit him, creeping in like a delayed wave. The injured area still throbbed faintly, and He Jiang unconsciously furrowed his brow, fingers rubbing gently at his right knee. The dull ache radiating from it still felt unmistakably real.

Leaning back against the seat, he stared at the blur of scenery flashing past in the rearview mirror. His thoughts drifted farther and farther away…