Chapter 227: Have You Ever Seen Zhennan at 4:30 a.m.?

The ball was tipped off, and everyone turned their gaze to the ball hovering in midair.

Jiang Nian sighed.

At first, he just wanted to show off before eating.

Passing by the basketball court, he saw several familiar faces from the school team warming up in groups. A ball rolled right under his foot, and almost on instinct, he took a shot.

【Accurate】

One hand, half-court, swish.

He used to be on the first team, and often played during his first and second years of high school. Exercising was secondary; the main reasons were showing off and saying that famous line.

"Have you ever seen Zhennan at 4:30 a. m.?" (raspy voice)

Others never saw his effort, and he never really tried. Whenever asked, it was always "talent," and if pressed further, "I love basketball"—never because he was showing off.

But he quit during the summer of Gao Er, partly because he was crushed by Zhou Yuting's clique, and partly because the old-school team members hit too hard.

Those who knew thought it was basketball physical contact; those who didn't thought it was American football. One Iron Mountain Shoulder, one War Trample, and your kidney stones would be ground into paste.

Oh, dear head coach Mr., I swear to God.

Yes, just now.

I saw my great-grandmother.

In short, Jiang Nian was half-dragged onto the court by his former teammates, just like being dragged into a foot spa by bad friends.

He figured it was just one quarter—might as well play a bit before eating. His hands were itchy, so he'd just slip in on the sidelines for a quick circle.

What if he crushed the other team?

Too much imagination—you think this is a drama?

Afternoon basketball only lasts so long, and the first team players train together every day.

Only a madman would keep passing you the ball just to help you show off after you quit.

Put it crudely—if you piss them off, they'll simply refuse to pass to you. They'll leave you stranded on the court like a dog on a leash, then blame you when they lose.

Clearly, Jiang Nian wasn't here to cause trouble—just to participate.

Three minutes before the whistle, Jiang Nian jogged around the court with his team. As expected, he didn't touch the ball, and he wasn't bothered.

Among everyone on the court, he only knew two people.

One was on his own team—a four-eyes named Zhang Xiaofan.

He looked decent, scholarly and mild-mannered. Played basketball wearing rimless glasses, and his grades were terrible.

His family owned a factory on the city's outskirts and wasn't keen on college.

He got his driver's license as soon as he turned eighteen and already bought a car. Unless he wanted to do hard labor, there was no hope for a civil service job—he planned to just take the junior college entrance exam and chill.

His favorite saying was: "If I can't get into a good university, can't I at least date a top-tier female college student?"

The other was on the opposing team—a massive black ox named Wang Zejun.

Tall and bulky, yet his grades were surprisingly good. His family background was average, so he took studying seriously.

Though he couldn't reach the Olympiad class level, getting into a decent university was still possible. He planned to apply to an affordable public university to ease his family's burden.

He always smiled and often said before games:

"Bros, make way—I can't play."

But once the game started, he turned terrifyingly fierce.

Jiang Nian's grades were the highest among this group—right on the 600-point mark. Aside from him, not a single person here had reached 500 points.

It was like: no scholars among those chatting, only Bai Dings coming and going.

"Pass it out!" the four-eyes shouted.

Right at the start, the four-eyes was under heavy pressure from the big black ox. Couldn't defend, got forced to dunk within three minutes, then got nailed with a three-pointer.

Pressure peaked—immediately fell into a deficit.

The ball bounced out from under the backboard and landed in the four-eyes Zhang Xiaofan's hands. He caught it and shot—*bang! *—clanged off the rim, bounced violently away.

It was totally his fault, but the four-eyes still snapped irritably:

"If you can't shoot, pass it!"

Jiang Nian watched from the sidelines, lips slightly curled.

He thought: months apart, and this guy's still the same jerk.

Some players on the court are mindset heroes—always calm, always "no big deal." Miss a shot? No problem. Lose a point? No problem. Their whole thing is pretending they understand you.

Others are the opposite—pure internal pressure cookers.

The passer raised his hand. "Mine, mine."

Five minutes.

Finally, Jiang Nian got his chance—he intercepted a pass from the other side. Before he even dribbled, the big black ox charged at him with a teammate.

At that moment, Jiang Nian stood near the sideline at midcourt.

"Block him!" the big black ox ordered another player to cut in from the left.

He'd played with Jiang Nian before—he knew this guy was liquid. Give him a crack, and he'd slip right through. Meanwhile, he himself would close in from the right, like a dark cloud crushing the city.

Outside the court, Nie Qiqi excitedly turned on her phone and aimed it at Jiang Nian.

"It's about to happen."

Cai Xiaoqing glanced at Fox Qiqi, lips parted but words unspoken. She had no interest in basketball games—reality was nothing like drama basketball.

"Hurry up, finish shooting and let's eat."

"Oh, okay, almost done!" Nie Qiqi exclaimed excitedly.

She was already imagining it—using that move on Jiang Nian: publicly posting his basketball humiliation, the moment someone snatched the ball mid-dribble, him standing there, full of regret and helplessness.

He never intended to dribble past anyone or pass the ball to anyone.

Jiang Nian dribbled the ball at an extremely fast pace, then swayed his body dramatically. After faking one move, he quickly pulled back and broke through from the left gap.

Big Black Ox took immediate advantage of this timing gap and chased up from the right.

Under these circumstances, you either pass immediately or face a wall alone. Exaggerated? Maybe, but no one had confidence they could stand up to Big Black Ox.

But Jiang Nian, with a glint in his eye, chose the third option.

Classic—midcourt shot.

To Big Black Ox Wang Zejun, Jiang Nian was shooting blindly in desperation. To the four-eyed team captain Zhang Xiaofan, Jiang Nian was plainly selfish.

"Fuck, if you're trapped, just pass the ball!"

Four-eyed was a genuine second-generation type—fine off the court. But on the court, he put pressure on teammates; if you didn't pass to him, you didn't know how to play.

Put nicely, he was straightforward and blunt, got overly serious during games.

Put harshly, he fundamentally looked down on everyone. What level are you? If I give you a ladder, you climb down quietly—do you even deserve to be mad at me?

You can't say he's bad—he's usually perfectly normal. Even if it's fake, if he can keep it up long enough, it counts as normal. No need to take it too seriously.

Jiang Nian ignored him completely, didn't even look, and shot instantly.

【Accurate】

The ball launched from midcourt, power producing miracle. With a graceful arc, it flew straight across the court and dropped cleanly through the rim before all eyes.

The basketball hoops on the court had no nets—no swish sound.

But it was clean!

The moment the ball hit the ground, the entire court erupted.

Of course, the spectators were still ninety-eight percent pure-blooded males—the kind who each thought they were super coaches—now exploding in excitement.

The coach had no education, but the coach had eyes.

Shooting a clean basket from midcourt doesn't require understanding the game. Even if you threw it like you were carrying a chamber pot, it'd still be top-tier awesome.

Cheers rose at this moment like boiling water.

Among them, two or three female screams pierced through—one from a first-year girl in dark blue uniform. Conquered by the spectacular shot, she let out an excited shriek.

The other came from Nie Qiqi.

She hated it!

She'd captured nothing—just Jiang Nian's midcourt three-pointer: his body suspended in air, the ball just leaving his hand—no ugliness at all.

I can't breathe, fam.

Got pissed off by a loser.

Most of the cheers came from the guys surrounding the court, waiting like for a god. Finally, after five minutes into the game, they got their scalp-tingling moment.

"Holy shit, this guy!!"

"Midcourt shot and it's clean? Is he even human?"

"That's so damn cool—the release speed, didn't even look! Either lucky or supremely confident."

"Maybe he just shot randomly—we'll find out soon enough."

"Who cares if it's luck? Even luck like that is insane."

"Exactly! If it were me, I'd brag for days. This is a midcourt three in a game—maximum value."

Cai Xiaoqing, listening to the guys beside her, looked at Jiang Nian with a subtle shift in her gaze.

He always seems so accurate.

So, there really is such a thing as innate talent. Scientifically, it might mean a more developed cerebellum or superior muscle control.

She'd slipped into biological thinking, recalling a biology problem she'd scrolled through yesterday.

"Let's go, let's go, I'm done watching," Nie Qiqi cried, her spirit crushed. "Xiaoqing, let's eat—I'll turn my frustration into appetite."

"Your appetite's already strong enough—you don't need to convert anything," Cai Xiaoqing snapped back from her thoughts, her tone flat. "No rush. Watch a little longer."

"Huh?" Nie Qiqi was stunned.

"Aren't you going to try again?" Cai Xiaoqing glanced at her, eyes calm. "Maybe soon you'll catch his ugly face. Just hold on a bit longer."

Nie Qiqi was stunned—Cai Xiaoqing was actually thinking of her? She was deeply moved. Was this what it felt like to be cherished?

Waaah, why is it Xiaoqing? I wish it were the class monitor.

"Mwah mwah mwah! Thank you, Xiaoqing!" Nie Qiqi pouted her pink lips, pretending to kiss her. "You still love me!"

Cai Xiaoqing: "."

She didn't want to speak, so she turned her gaze back to the court.

Jiang Nian's shot shut Zhang Xiaofan's trash talk right down—now that he'd scored a three, what else was there to say? Would passing have yielded better results?

Clearly, it wouldn't.

In the next three minutes, Jiang Nian never touched the ball.

Four-eyed Zhang Xiaofan kept directing passes, constantly running and cutting. His eyes never once glanced toward Jiang Nian—as if no one stood there.

Finally, at the nine-minute mark, Zhang Xiaofan scored on a rebound.

The cost? The opposing Big Black Ox team had scored three straight baskets, including two threes—widening the gap dramatically.

Pressure exploded. He started trash-talking his own teammates, then added:

"Move your asses, holy shit—I'm done with you guys!"

"And Jiang Nian, why are you so lazy on defense?"

And

(End of Chapter)