Chapter 15: Tennis Club Recruitment (Part 2)

Watching Ping Minchun take a stance, Ito's eyes flashed with a hint of contempt.

A guy who just picked up a racket not long ago still thinks he can beat me?

Don't make me laugh my head off!

Ito despised his opponent inwardly, yet said: "The Tennis Club folks should let me serve first, right!"

Without waiting for Ping Minchun to answer, he tossed the tennis ball up and then swung his racket down.

Bang!

The tennis ball flew over the net and landed in the service box.

"Truly despicable!"

Outside the court, Shitian Tie, wrapped in a white headband, showed a disgusted expression.

He favors straightforward confrontations and strongly dislikes using such underhanded tactics in matches.

Facing the sudden attack, Ping Minchun did not panic.

From the moment he stepped onto the court, he had already focused entirely on preparing for Ito's offense.

During this period he had been training hard behind Jiecheng Wu, and was no longer just picking up balls.

Ping Minchun made a light hop; as his toes touched the ground, his body sprang into action, his eyes tracked the swing and strike, and his feet ran toward the anticipated direction.

At the same time his mind worked, recalling Jiecheng Wu's teachings.

Meet the ball, turn the shoulder, draw the racket and strike!

Bang!

The racket conveyed a solid feel, and the tennis ball instantly flew back.

"You actually managed to return my serve?"

Ito said dismissively, not even regarding Ping Minchun as worth noticing.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

The two figures ran back and forth on the court.

At first Ito held a considerable advantage, after all he had played tennis for an extra year and had experience in official matches.

Whereas Ping Minchun had only trained with Jiecheng Wu for a few months.

However, as time passed, Ping Minchun gradually caught up to the match's rhythm.

In regular practice matches, he also tried to use the techniques Jiecheng Wu taught, but he just couldn't get them right.

But when facing Ito, Ping Minchun refused to lose no matter what, and his focus consequently became exceptionally sharp.

Some techniques he previously couldn't use well, he gradually grasped the knack for at this time.

Thus, Ping Minchun, who started at a disadvantage, gradually began to return more shots, and now could even rally with Ito for extended periods.

Bang!

Bang!

The crisp sound of impacts rang out continuously, and Ping Minchun grew more confident the more he played.

By mid-match, the scales of victory finally began to tilt slowly in his favor.

Meanwhile, Ito watched the match gradually slip out of his control, yet grew more anxious the more he played.

The scene before him suddenly reminded him of last year's autumn freshman tournament.

Back then, he too was in a position of advantage, yet muddledly lost the match to a player from Shadeng Second.

For a moment, Ito was somewhat at a loss, no longer bearing his earlier arrogant demeanor.

Bang!

Suddenly, Ping Minchun lashed out with his racket.

A fierce forehand topspin shot drove straight to the baseline.

By the time Ito reacted and tried to run over to return it, the distance between him and the ball was already too great.

How can you even beat me?!

I'm the senior! I'm the upperclassman! I ought to be stronger!

What makes you think you deserve to be in the Tennis Club?!

He roared inwardly with resentment.

Regret, jealousy, resentment—all kinds of emotions intertwined.

When he saw Ping Minchun's confident smile, these emotions all turned into a violent destructive urge.

"Go die!"

Ito suddenly shouted, his right hand jerked, his palm suddenly opened, and the racket was flung away violently.

Not toward the ball's direction, but straight at Ping Minchun at the net!

Thud!

"Ah—"

In the astonished gazes of everyone, Ping Minchun was struck hard and let out a painful wail.

Drip—drip!

Blood flowed from his forehead, continuously dripping onto the ground.

"Sorry, sorry, I just slipped."

Ito sheepishly walked to the net, picked up his racket, and there were still traces of blood on the front of the racket frame.

Looking at the fallen Ping Minchun, he suddenly asked deliberately.

"You, can you still compete?"

But at that moment Ping Minchun painfully clutched his wound and could not answer at all.

The scene instantly infuriated the freshmen in the audience.

"Hey! This is really too despicable!

This isn't tennis; it's outright intentional harm!"

Shenwei Ming shouted loudly.

"How can sports not cause injury?

I just accidentally didn't grip the racket; it's his own fault for not dodging."

Yi Teng spread his palm, feigning an innocent face as he argued slyly.

"You hateful bastard!"

Such shameless justification made Shenwei Ming seethe; he clenched his fist, ready to strike.

But before he could step forward, a few tall third‑year students blocked his way.

They rotated their wrists in front of their chests, producing clacking sounds.

The threat in their gesture was self‑evident.

Yet their actions completely angered the other freshmen.

"That's really over the line!"

Shitian Tie was the first to step forward from behind, rolling up his sleeve to reveal the lean muscles on his arm.

"No forgiveness."

Yiwu Shen Si lifted his dark‑blue hair with one hand, a cold glint flashing in his eyes as he, deliberately or not, glanced at the vulnerable spot of the person before him.

Eyes, throat, armpits, groin.

The icy gaze made the heart falter.

The others also stepped forward in turn.

Neicun Jingjie wearing a black baseball cap, Sen Chende with a spiky buzz cut, and Yingjing Ya with an OK‑band on his forehead

though they haven't officially joined the Tennis Club yet, Yi Teng and the others' behavior has already crossed everyone's line.

Just as both sides were about to clash, the battle on the brink of erupting,

Ping Minchun's weak yet urgent voice rang out.

"No, we can't fight!

If you act, the principal will punish you."

He shakily rose from the ground, hand covering his forehead, blood seeping through his fingers.

"But..."

Shenwei Ming wanted to say something else, but Ping Minchun's gaze stopped him; though his heart burned with anger, he finally lowered his fist.

Ping Minchun turned his head toward the unrestrained Yi Teng.

"Aren't you afraid of the principal's punishment?"

"Punishment?" Yi Teng sounded as if he heard something funny.

"You clearly got injured by accident while playing tennis; how could the principal punish me?"

"Besides, the match hasn't ended; you must continue the game properly!"

He laughed, tossed the tennis ball, then slowly raised his racket, his peripheral gaze aimed directly at Ping Minchun's body.

Boom!!!

Just as he was about to strike, a sudden blast rang out from outside the court!

A fierce yellow beam sliced through the air, but its speed was so great that everyone could only see a shadow.

Yi Teng hadn't reacted when his abdomen seemed hit by a shell; the terrifying impact made his body feel light, his feet nearly leaving the ground.

"Ugh~"

Two seconds later, intense pain radiated from his abdomen; he hunch‑backed like a red‑hot lobster, trembling as he fell backward, cold sweat pouring down.

Immediately his body went limp, collapsing to the ground, bile mixed with stomach acid spilling from his mouth.

He lost consciousness entirely.

Everyone glanced rapidly toward the direction from which the yellow beam came.

A handsome black‑haired youth holding a racket appeared there.

He simply stood, exuding a pressing aura, like a beast descending from the mountain, giving an intangible pressure.

Swish swish swish!

Another handful of tennis balls shot through the air, striking the troublemakers from the Tennis Club with precision.

The powerful, terrifying force knocked those guys to the ground, their cries of pain filling the air.

"You are the newcomers applying to join?"

Jiecheng Wu walked over, standing before Shenwei Ming and the others, and asked.

Then he pointed at the guys lying on the ground.

"Here's your first order after joining the club.

Throw all those who were accidentally hit by tennis balls out of the Tennis Club!"

This is Chapter Two

I really can't keep going; I truly want to finish Chapter Three.

(End of Chapter)