SSD 62. Qinghuo vs. Kongxin: Disruption

“Xu Fanming!”

The figure ahead was running fast, vanishing around the corner in the blink of an eye. The narrow hallway twisted and turned, and He Jiang nearly lost him several times. He furrowed his brow and shouted again, “Xu Fanming, stop right there!”

Clack!

The bathroom door slammed shut in front of him. He Jiang grabbed the handle, shoved it open, and squeezed himself into the cramped restroom. He closed the door behind him and turned the lock.

The outside world was now sealed off from them.

He looked up to see Xu Fanming standing in front of the sink, his face pale as he stared back. As He Jiang stepped forward, Xu Fanming turned sharply, about to run again. But He Jiang moved faster, pinning him against the wall in an instant.

“The game’s still on. Where do you think you’re going?”

Xu Fanming turned his eyes away. His eyes and nose were beginning to flush red, his shoulders trembling slightly. But he bit down hard on his lip, refusing to make a sound.

He Jiang looked at him and felt a wrenching ache in his chest.

“Fanming, listen to me.” His tone softened. “There are wins and losses on the court. But more important than the result is the spirit of the game. Respect the match. Respect the opponent. Do you understand?”

“I…”

Xu Fanming’s throat burned. The words caught, stuck, refused to come out. Beads of tears slipped from his eyes, soaking into his jersey, mixing with the sweat on his chest.

Seeing him like this, He Jiang could no longer bring himself to scold. He stepped forward and pulled Xu Fanming tightly into his arms. Their body heat pressed together as if he wanted to fold Xu Fanming into himself. He lowered his head and kissed the trembling hair by his forehead, his voice hoarse, melting into a gentle hush.

“It’s okay. I know. I know you gave it everything you had. Baby… you were amazing today. You really were.”

The tears and pain were about to drown him. Xu Fanming couldn’t speak. He was like a drowning bird, struggling in silence, until He Jiang lowered his head and kissed him, right on the lips.

Warm breath enveloped him. That familiar taste slipped into his mouth, grazing his lips with gentle, lingering friction.

Xu Fanming trembled and slowly closed his eyes.

There was no surge of lust in this kiss. All he felt was the gentle comfort and lingering tenderness, a quiet warmth as He Jiang poured strength into him with each soft breath.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly in that silence, until the body in his arms stopped shaking, until their breathing began to steady, until a faint heat rose in their chests. Only then did He Jiang pull away, and with deep affection, placed a light kiss at the corner of Xu Fanming’s eye. The salty taste on his lips was the tears shed by his beloved.

“You ran out so suddenly. You scared everyone.”

Xu Fanming said nothing. He Jiang smiled and reached up to wipe his face with his fingers. “Even the streetball tyrant gets cold feet?”

“I didn’t,” Xu Fanming said, shaking his head and biting down on his lip. “I didn’t…”

“You’re just a little lost, aren’t you?” He Jiang said softly. “Fanfan, think carefully about what it is you really want.”

Before the game began, when Xu Fanming was still feeling anxious and uncertain, He Jiang had asked him the same question. Back then, Xu Fanming had answered without a moment’s doubt.

“I want to win.”

But now?

Xu Fanming drew a deep breath and slowly clenched his fists. “I don’t want to be looked down on.”

He Jiang gazed into his eyes and said calmly, “Then you know what you have to do now, don’t you?”

Xu Fanming looked up. Slowly, he loosened his lip, which he had bitten red, and gave a small nod as if he had finally come to terms with something.

He Jiang smiled in satisfaction. “There’s still a minute left in halftime. Come back with me.”

“Let’s go back, to our court.”

When He Jiang and Xu Fanming returned to the court, they found the atmosphere in the rest area heavy with silence.

Seeing Xu Fanming return, Pan Yuan let out a long breath of relief and handed him a bottle of water. “Fanfan, are you all right?”

Xu Fanming’s eyes warmed. He took the bottle and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Pan Yuan said gently, patting his shoulder. “Hurry and rejoin the team. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

In the rest area, everyone sat with their heads down, silent and unresponsive.

The stifling silence lingered for who knew how long, until finally, the captain Fang Ruihan spoke, breaking the stillness that felt like punishment.

“Hey, you all, stop looking so miserable,” Fang Ruihan looked around and suddenly smiled. “Lighten up a bit.”

Zhu Xuyao frowned and muttered, “Captain…”

Why was their captain smiling instead of getting angry? Had the blow been too much? Was he on the verge of a breakdown?

Fang Ruihan smiled faintly and said softly, “If we think about it from another angle, we’ve gained a lot too. At the very least, we’ve learned one truth. On this path, we’ve only just taken our first step.”

He lifted his face. Clusters of spectators, a sea of shifting shadows, a cacophony of voices laced with mockery and pity. Blinding lights. And across from them stood their opponents, calm and unruffled as ever.

“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,” Fang Ruihan lifted his head again, a firm light burning in his eyes, “we should ask ourselves, what do we still have left?”

It felt like the moment after a storm when the clouds begin to break. Ever since Xu Fanming’s shot was blocked by Yuan Dan, it was as if the team had finally snapped out of a dream.

What did they still have?

Just the thought of how the five of them had huddled together before the game, making promises to win with so much confidence, brought a burn to the corners of their eyes.

Everyone had to admit it now. The players from Kongxin had surpassed every one of their expectations. They were strong. Unbelievably strong.

“55 to 32.”

The gap between them was no longer up for debate. The outcome of this game had already been decided.

But precisely because of that, just as Captain Fang Ruihan said, the anguish they felt should not dissolve into a flood of despair. It should become the force that drove them forward.

The game was only halfway through.

What did they still have?

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

Yes. They still had their sportsmanship. That was their belief, and their final dignity.

When Fang Ruihan said those words, they all exchanged glances. And fortunately, all of them shared the same thought.

The deep understanding they had built over time meant there was no need for more words. Hands stacked together, faces filled with focus.

“Three, two, one—Qinghuo, let’s go!”

The game resumed.

The steady rhythm of the basketball striking the court echoed through the gym. Kongxin continued to crush their opponents, driving the score further and further apart. Qinghuo gritted their teeth and fought to hold the line. Bit by bit, the spectators began to fall silent. The sting at the corners of their eyes spread into a tight, aching weight in their chests.

This was a match with a lopsided score, a showdown devoid of suspense. Everyone watching could see that Kongxin’s strength completely overwhelmed Qinghuo.

And yet, those five black silhouettes from Qinghuo still darted vibrantly across the heated court. Even as the ball was stolen from them again and again, even as they were blocked time after time, they pushed forward. Their jerseys were soaked through with sweat, but the focus in their eyes never dimmed.

They were truly playing with everything they had.

To any spectator who loved basketball, this was undoubtedly one of the most stirring battles they could witness. Everyone present was moved by Qinghuo’s performance.

Even knowing they would lose, they fought to the final second. A dark horse team that had once strung together four consecutive wins, now up against a top-tier seed team. Perhaps this was Qinghuo’s way of honoring every pair of eyes watching from the stands.

Slowly, applause began to rise in the gym. First scattered, then growing louder, until it surged like a wave.

“Qinghuo, let’s go!”

“Qinghuo, let’s go!”

Pan Yuan’s eyes were wet. She choked up as she raised her camera, taking photos while wiping at her nose. Those boys were giving it their all. Even if they lost, they were determined to finish the game with dignity.

“Captain, Zhu Xuyao, Fanming, He Jiang, Wen Qin,” she could not help but shout, “you were amazing! Keep going!”

They continued to press forward, refusing to back down. He Jiang held his ground against Xing Yunyang. Zhu Xuyao braced his back against Tan Ren. Wen Qin and Peng Ning faced off beyond the three-point line, while Fang Ruihan was maneuvering against Zhuo Changyi, who held the ball.

Suddenly, the basketball flew into Yuan Dan’s hands. A second later, he found himself face to face with an immovable wall of flesh and bone.

“Xu Fanming!”

Yuan Dan’s pupils narrowed slightly. He held the ball tightly and scanned the court out of the corner of his eye, searching for a teammate in a favorable position.

Xu Fanming came charging in from the nearest spot to assist on defense. His eyes locked onto Yuan Dan’s, and this time, he gave him no chance to think. He struck directly, slapping at the ball with full force.

Yuan Dan froze, then quickly recovered. The two wrestled for possession, arms and legs nearly tangling in the struggle. The referee, sensing something was off, raised the whistle to his lips. Off-court, Pan Yuan had frozen in place, clutching her camera in alarm. “Fanming, stop!”

The whistle blew just as the ball was wrenched free from their hands. Xu Fanming had slapped it away with a surge of strength, sending it flying with explosive speed straight toward Wen Qin and Peng Ning.

Peng Ning, facing the ball, was the first to react. He took a long step aside to dodge the incoming missile. Wen Qin, however, had his back to the danger. He was still confused by Peng Ning’s sudden shift in position.

“Wen Qin, look out!”

Wen Qin froze, slowly turning his head toward Fang Ruihan.

Too late.

A basketball striking the back of the head at high speed could be dangerous. At best, it would leave him dazed. At worst, it could cause serious injury. Fang Ruihan, who was closest, took off at once, covering the distance in two or three quick strides.

The ball slammed into something and finally crashed to the ground.

A second later, Xu Fanming collapsed, having lost his balance during the scramble. He braced himself on the court and stared ahead with wide eyes. He was not the only one. He Jiang and Zhu Xuyao had also stopped, frozen in place, all gazing in the same direction with stunned expressions on their faces.

“Qinghuo’s captain got hit in the face by the ball?!”

A wave of shock spread through the audience. The referee raised his hand for a timeout and lowered his whistle. Zhu Xuyao dashed forward. “Captain!”

Wen Qin stood rooted in front of Fang Ruihan, his face pale. His hands trembled as he reached forward.

“Senior…”

Fang Ruihan did not say a word. He kept one hand clamped over his nose and mouth, his brow tightly furrowed and his eyes shut in pain. His entire face had turned a flushed, congested red.

He Jiang and Zhu Xuyao rushed over. Xu Fanming and Pan Yuan followed close behind, all of them gathering around their captain.

He Jiang gripped Fang Ruihan’s shoulder and asked in a low voice, “Are you all right? How do you feel?”

“Captain,” Xu Fanming’s eyes had reddened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I swear I didn’t. Captain!”

Fang Ruihan forced his eyes open, but his vision was nothing but a blur of white. He shook his head with difficulty, trying to tell Xu Fanming it was fine. But the searing pain echoed through his skull, and the taste of rust had begun to rise in his mouth. He must have bitten his tongue.

“Blood!”

Pan Yuan suddenly cried out. Blood was slowly trickling through Fang Ruihan’s fingers.

He opened his hand. His nose had taken the full impact and was now pouring bright red blood.

At that moment, the referee stepped over in concern. After taking one look at Fang Ruihan, he frowned and asked, “Number twelve, can you still continue the match?”

Fang Ruihan said nothing. Tears welled at the corners of his eyes from the pain. That involuntary reaction alone was enough to plunge everyone into despair.

The referee sighed and turned to the others. “Get him treated first. There should be a first-aid kit in the locker room.”

Pan Yuan was the first to respond. She nodded and stepped forward to support Fang Ruihan. “Got it. I’ll take him there now.”

The referee gave a short grunt of acknowledgment. Once she had helped Fang Ruihan out of sight, he turned back to the team.

“Get a substitute ready.”

Zhu Xuyao nodded and ran off. When he returned a short while later with another teammate, the referee raised his whistle.

“The game resumes.”

He brought the whistle to his lips.

The piercing sound marked the restart of play. But the moment the match resumed, the court was filled with murmurs.

More than twenty points behind. Their captain taken out by injury.

This game was shaping up to be Qinghuo’s Waterloo.

Utterly devastating.

This was the nature of athletic competition, as cruel as it was fair. It left people powerless, surrounded by quiet sighs of resignation.

And compared to the invisible weight pressing down on each of his teammates, Wen Qin’s composure was the first to collapse.

In a high-stakes game like this, injuries were nothing unusual. But today, Fang Ruihan had been hurt while protecting him. Everyone had seen the Qinghuo’s captain had taken a brutal basketball to the face, his nose bloodied, and had been forced to leave the court. It was like the final straw that crushed the camel’s back, not only altering the course of the match but also shattering the mental defenses of the rest of the team in an instant.

Wen Qin was overwhelmed with self-loathing. His form had been off all game, and not only had he failed to contribute, he had dragged the entire team down with him. He felt he had let down his senior. He had let down the teammates who had fought by his side. He had no right to stand on this court. He did not even have the courage to lift his head.

His vision blurred more and more. His breath came quick and shallow. A sharp ache had begun to rise in his chest.

“If you feel nervous, treat the wristband as my encouragement. Keep calm, play your game.”

“I told you already, didn’t I? You’re the shooting guard I brought in.” That gentle, smiling face kept replaying in his memory. “So believe in yourself.”

Alone on the court, Wen Qin stood with his fists clenched. He could no longer hear anything. Head bowed, he endured the hoarseness in his throat, and tears streamed unrestrained down his face.