SSD 60. Qinghuo vs. Kongxin: The Delayed Shooting Guard

Peng Ning was Kongxin’s number 13 shooting guard. He had a pair of striking, expressive eyes. Unfortunately, his playing style was so low-key that his role on the court often faded into the background, to the point where people sometimes forgot Kongxin even had a designated shooter.

In today’s game, because Peng Ning had almost no visible presence, everyone had let their guard down. It wasn’t until Yuan Dan called his name out loud that Qinghuo suddenly realized that they had completely missed him in their defense.

There was no one in front of Peng Ning now. The lane to the paint was wide open.

Everyone froze. Some rushed in to block. Others scrambled to reassess their formation. But Peng Ning, the center of attention, just stood there with his eyes half-closed, looking sleepy and relaxed. When he heard his teammate call out, he let out a lazy “hm?” and stepped forward to catch the pass slowly, like someone who had just woken up from a nap.

He didn’t look like some hidden powerhouse. He looked more like a dazed kid with a harmless smile.

But there was a reason Kongxin’s coach insisted on keeping him in the starting lineup.

Rather than “low-key,” the better word for Peng Ning was “slow to warm up.”

The moment his hands touched the ball, something in his expression began to change. His eyes sharpened, and a faint crease appeared between his brows.

“Why isn’t he driving into the paint?” Fang Ruihan narrowed his eyes. “Is he trying to…”

Everyone watched in confusion, waiting for him to move. But Peng Ning didn’t take a single step forward. He stood there calmly, then slowly turned toward the basket. Bending his knees just slightly, he raised the ball over his head. Then, in one smooth motion, he released it with full force.

Whoosh—clang!

He Jiang and Xu Fanming were both stunned in place.

It was a long-range shot, launched from nearly eight meters out, almost from the half-court line. Clean, precise, and ruthless.

The ball struck dead center on the rim.

Peng Ning gave a slight smile and casually patted his hands together.

The entire gym went silent.

Then the shock rolled through the crowd.

Again.

Pan Yuan held her breath. It was happening again. Another long-range shot, just like before!

Aside from He Jiang and Wen Qin, there was now a third naturally gifted shooter.

“Ah,” Peng Ning blinked and looked up at the scoreboard. His eyes widened with genuine surprise. “We’re already at 39 points? That was fast.”

Captain Tan Ren shrugged. “The second quarter just started. Good thing you finally woke up.”

“My bad.”

“It’s fine. Just stay in rhythm.”

Everyone else was frozen in disbelief.

What… what had they just witnessed?

So that meant, during the first quarter, all that absentmindedness from Peng Ning, all that drifting on the edges of the court, wasn’t because he was holding back some big move like they thought. It was just that he hadn’t warmed up yet?

Everyone helplessly brought a hand to their forehead. Being a slow starter was one thing, but this was a formal match.

A whole quarter had passed before he finally came to life, and yet only the players from Kongxin could manage to keep such a relaxed mindset without falling apart.

But—

“Focus!” Fang Ruihan ran down the court, waving his arms. “Get back on defense!”

The five of them exchanged glances, a newfound resolve forming across their faces. They quickly picked up speed and spread out across the court.

From the sidelines, Pan Yuan fired off several rapid shots of the action. That’s right. If No. 13 from Kongxin, Peng Ning, was going to focus on long-range shooting, then their own all-around player He Jiang and natural three-point shooter Wen Qin were absolutely on par with him. Maybe, just maybe, this was their chance to use Peng Ning as a starting point and break through Kongxin, one player at a time.

Could this be the opening Qinghuo had been waiting for? This chance had come hard-earned. They had to seize it.

“In the next phase of the game, you need to keep a close eye on Kongxin’s shooting guard, Peng Ning. Can I count on you?”

Wen Qin suddenly looked up. Maybe it was finally his turn to act. If he could help his upperclassman today, if he could help the team, that would be the best outcome.

As the ball crossed half-court, Wen Qin moved quickly to position himself just outside the three-point line.

Xu Fanming was locked in a standoff with Zhuo Changyi, dribbling as they wrestled for space. He Jiang came in to screen for him, giving Xu Fanming the chance to slip past. But after just a few steps, he ran into the brick wall that was Xing Yunyang. It was then that his eyes met Wen Qin’s across the court.

Wen Qin gave a sharp nod, his shoulders tightening with tension. Xu Fanming understood at once and passed the ball his way.

He caught it!

A flash of excitement lit up Wen Qin’s eyes, but he quickly forced himself to stay calm. He needed total clarity if he wanted to avoid any mistakes. In an earlier match, a simple mishandling of the ball had caused them to lose possession. He had no intention of letting his team down again.

Dribbling steadily, Wen Qin adjusted his stance and prepared to shoot, but just then, a tall figure loomed into view.

“Mm.”

Wen Qin’s hands trembled slightly. Standing in front of him was Peng Ning, twelve centimeters taller, his face as calm and clear as still water.

Peng Ning moved straight into action, lunging upward in an attempt to block the ball Wen Qin had lifted over his head. Wen Qin reacted fast, quickly pulling the ball back down to his waist.

Peng Ning blinked once. Then he suddenly stepped in closer, his arm sweeping low to chase the ball at Wen Qin’s waist. Wen Qin dropped the ball diagonally through his legs and reached around to catch it from the other side.

No, that was bad!

Fang Ruihan and He Jiang both tensed. That move was a feint.

The next moment, the ball shot straight into the palm of Peng Ning’s waiting hand on Wen Qin’s opposite side. His reach toward the waist had only been bait, forcing Wen Qin to hand the ball over of his own accord.

“You’re still new to this, aren’t you?”

Peng Ning curved his lips into a faint, even smile. It wasn’t smug or sharp, but it pierced straight through Wen Qin’s nerves.

The ball had been stolen.

Peng Ning turned on his heel and began dribbling smoothly toward Qinghuo’s half of the court. Wen Qin remained frozen where he stood, stunned for a full two seconds.

Was that it? Was it already over?

No, they still had a chance.

Wen Qin clenched his jaw and took off after him. He chased close on Peng Ning’s right flank, locking onto his dribbling hand, determined to strip the ball. But he still hadn’t mastered the technique of stealing. Every swipe was pure instinct, messy and imprecise.

Peng Ning quickly noticed the pressure behind him. He adjusted his stride mid-run and unleashed a fluid chain of skillful dribbles, the ball weaving at high speed between his limbs. Wen Qin was stunned. Peng Ning’s ball control was too clean, so smooth he couldn’t find even a single flaw, let alone an opening to intercept.

Frustration coiled in his mind, twisting tighter and tighter. Wen Qin gave up on thinking altogether. He lunged straight for the ball, arms outstretched, even if it meant drawing a foul, he had to stop those two points.

This was their team’s last hope.

But just as they crossed the three-point line, Peng Ning suddenly turned his head and locked eyes with Xing Yunyang behind him. After a quick half-second read, Peng Ning swung back around and whipped his elbow sharply behind him, the ball arcing backward with it.

A no-look, long-range pass.

Everyone froze. For a moment, the entire court forgot to react.

Xing Yunyang caught it cleanly and stormed toward the basket like a thunderclap shaking the sky.

Wen Qin, off balance from his lunge, tumbled forward and crashed into Peng Ning. The two of them hit the court hard. A beat later, inside the arc, Xing Yunyang released a calm, solid three-pointer.

Perfect shot.

“Beeep—!”

As the scoreboard turned over, the referee blew the whistle. “Black No. 5, personal foul!”

“42 to 22.” A full twenty-point gap.

When had it started? When was the last time they even scored a single point?

The five players from Qinghuo stood in stunned silence.

By now, it was painfully clear.

Qinghuo’s five, and Kongxin’s five, between them stood a gap so vast, it could not be crossed.

Qinghuo had come a long way. They had played match after match, gaining experience, building teamwork. From their raw debut against Yangsheng to this four-game win streak, they had grown so much. But even with all of that under their belts, standing here now, in this moment, each of them felt like they had plummeted into a frozen abyss.

The cold was suffocating.

Qinghuo was being crushed at every turn. Every block, every steal, each moment of resistance was swiftly dismantled by Kongxin’s seamless coordination. The moment Qinghuo came up with a move, Kongxin would see through it. When Kongxin had possession of the ball, Qinghuo no longer resembled a competing team. They looked like a group of exhausted pursuers, putting in all their effort yet constantly falling behind, never able to catch up no matter how hard they tried.

And now, that slow-starting shooting guard had finally found his rhythm, delivering a cruel lesson in return. There were no weak links in Kongxin. Not a single player could be dismissed. Every one of them carried overwhelming strength. Their experience was deep and their skills were sharp. The basic tricks that Qinghuo relied on meant nothing here. In front of Kongxin, every small maneuver was laid bare. Qinghuo had nothing they could use to gain the upper hand.

What should they do? How could they possibly reverse the tide?

The clock did not stop. It continued to tick forward, each second falling with heavy finality.

On the sidelines, Pan Yuan sank into her folding chair, her fingers losing their grip on the camera.

She knew it now. Qinghuo had run into their greatest opponent of the entire provincial tournament.

If they could not overcome this wall, then they would never win.

The second quarter stretched on endlessly. All five players from Qinghuo gave everything they had. Even with their full strength, they only managed to claw back a mere six points, which was instantly wiped away again by Kongxin’s counterattack.

Their stamina had been pushed to its limit. All five of them were drenched in sweat, struggling to stay upright. Wen Qin, who had the weakest endurance, was beginning to feel light-headed.

Every breath was heavy. Pain and fatigue pressed in from all sides. Sweat soaked his lashes and left his eyes burning raw.

If they did not act now, if they could not come up with a solution, they would be dragged down by this prolonged battle, until their bodies and minds completely gave out.

What could they do?

At last, Fang Ruihan’s expression hardened. He raised one hand and pressed his index finger to his palm, signaling for a timeout. The referee understood at once, blew the whistle, and raised his arm high.

“Timeout requested by Qinghuo.”