Chapter Seventeen: The Reckless Youth Who Chases the Wind

In dreams, people can age overnight, but they can also indulge in brief pleasures and return to the days of youth.

Facing the glimmering tears in Lin Fei's dream, he saw countless reflections of his younger self.

It was still that same basketball court, lively and boisterous, where everyone played half-court games—it was the most economical way to use the court. That was how things went at school: no matter how many courts you built, students would never complain, but add even half a class more and they would grumble.

Lin Fei was alone, shooting free throws over and over again, as if he were practicing. Remarkably, he hadn't missed a single shot. A few people stood nearby, watching him; it seemed that watching Lin Fei shoot was truly an enjoyment.

"Hey, man, there are seven of us here, we're short one. Come play a half-court game!"

How could he miss such an invitation? If he did, he wouldn't be Lin Fei.

They discussed teams and passed the ball to divide into groups. A tall guy, nearly six foot three, said, "Hey, man, I don't know how to play. I'll just team up with a strong player!" Most people knew he was bluffing—everyone on the court could tell, just by watching how someone dribbled and shot, whether they were a rookie or a veteran. How could this tall guy not know how to play? He was clearly saying, "You guys know how to play, right?" Lin Fei said nothing; on the court, he spoke very little. He didn't team up with the tall one.

Half-court games like these had few rules. Catch the ball beyond the three-point line, drive, shoot—simple enough.

The tall guy caught the ball and passed it directly to his teammate instead of playing himself. But clearly, his mind wasn't in the game. Lin Fei despised such types—whatever you do, do it properly. If you know, you know; if you don't, you don't. Don't pretend. What irked him most was people pretending in front of basketball, acting as if they didn't recognize the game, bluffing their way through.

But "gold" always shines. After his teammates failed a few times, the tall guy naturally became the hope of his group and, effortlessly, was crowned the core of the team. The others fed him the ball or ran to support. Since Lin Fei's side didn't have anyone who could match the tall one's physique, even though Lin Fei was average in height among the crowd, he was relatively thin. The tall guy dominated the paint, tossing opponents aside and scoring with brute force. Yet, he was obviously rough—a pure brute, able only to back down opponents and bulldoze his way for layups, nothing more.

Lin Fei didn't mind; after all, it was just warming up.

Another possession, Lin Fei under the basket, the brute backing down, right against Lin Fei's back. The brute didn't care, just thrust his hips, and though Lin Fei wasn't tightly defending, the push was high enough that Lin Fei retreated far, leaving the brute an open layup. The brute glanced back at Lin Fei, grinning foolishly—not a comment on his intellect, but his demeanor. Lin Fei watched for a moment, feeling slightly irritated.

The same thing happened again, but this time Lin Fei wasn't behind. The brute tried his move once more, and Lin Fei, now annoyed, rushed over just as the brute reached his highest release point—barely eight inches from the backboard—and blocked the shot, sending the ball directly toward the board. A classic rejection: "You fat fool, trying to show off in front of me? You deserve to be struck by lightning." Lin Fei smiled calmly, returning the brute's grin.

From the brute's earlier smugness to his sudden silence, it was clear how much that block bothered him. Worse yet, this kid was showing off right in front of him. "Damn," he thought, "he's trying to humiliate me."

The brute caught the ball just inside the three-point line, backed down, and, with disbelief, pushed hard, then turned and charged straight to the basket—a jackhammer layup, almost idiotic in its simplicity, relying solely on strength, with no flexibility. The momentum was overwhelming. Lin Fei didn't resist and stepped aside, letting him through. With such force, the brute's layup went straight in. The ball had to go in—otherwise, he'd be letting down all his effort.

The brute's team took possession again, and the brute repeated his tactics. This time, Lin Fei's side wised up: they defended the brute's initial move. With his predictable rhythm, Lin Fei disrupted his footwork just by moving in front of him, and sure enough, the layup missed. The brute tried for the rebound, but a figure burst in, snatching the ball before it left the rim. He turned, dribbled beyond the three-point line, spun, leaned back, and shot—a three-pointer. Amazingly, he jumped and shot without even looking at the basket. No mistake: that's exactly what happened! Inside players rarely attempt such moves from beyond the arc, especially in a casual game. As people say, "No one here is a pro." The ball spun rapidly, arched high, and swished through the net.

The brute stared dumbfounded at Lin Fei—this kid really had skills! "Today, I’m going to go head-to-head with you," he thought.

Lin Fei's team started, Lin Fei received the ball at the three-point line, dribbled, surveyed the court. Now, the brute was alert, stepping up to defend Lin Fei, signaling teammates to clear out. Lin Fei smiled, without even a hint of a fake, simply pulled up and jumped from the three-point line right in front of the brute. The brute couldn't jump high enough to contest—another basket. The brute was starting to get angry, but he had to hold it in.

Lin Fei caught the ball again, the brute defending. This time, the brute got smart, moved closer, thinking he could block Lin Fei, being taller. Lin Fei scanned the court, took a step, the brute panicked and retreated. Lin Fei pulled back, drove forward again, switched direction, and left the brute behind. With the previous pull-up, the brute wished he could dig a hole and hide.

After several rounds, the brute finally caught the ball at about twenty-five feet, with Lin Fei playing off him. The brute dribbled toward Lin Fei, backed him down, clearly wanting a one-on-one: "Let's see how I play, today I’ll show you." He was dreaming of this moment. Lin Fei gave him space, and the brute thought Lin Fei was afraid of contact, continued backing him to the basket, hooked shot. Lin Fei jumped, but missed the block by a fraction—the timing was off. The ball spun twice and dropped in.

Now the brute was feeling confident. Though rough, inspiration couldn't be stopped. He asked the other players—though they barely knew each other, basketball lovers were usually straightforward. The brute said, "Hey, playing without stakes is boring. Why not bet a bottle of cola? Good way to make friends." As he spoke, he looked at Lin Fei, meaning the challenge was directed at him. Lin Fei's teammates glanced at him. They had seen, even though Lin Fei hadn't scored as much as the brute, from his bursts of effort, it was clear their only hope for victory was Lin Fei.

"Alright, I'm fine with it," Lin Fei replied. He didn't have any money, but he knew this was a gift—why not accept?

"Good, you guys start," said the brute generously.

Lin Fei's team raised no objections and started the game. Lin Fei caught the ball, and for the first time, revealed his killer instinct. Though he’d been scoring wildly before, it was just "playing around." Now, he switched into serious mode.

The brute's side knew Lin Fei was nearly impossible to defend, so suddenly two players rushed him. True leaders score under the toughest conditions. Lin Fei saw them coming—no problem. Before they could close in, he jumped and shot. The brute stood under the basket, eyes wide, ready to go for the rebound, but, unfortunately for him, the shot went in.

They inbounded again, Lin Fei with the ball, breaking through. The brute's defense was a mess, totally unorganized, so Lin Fei moved freely. Driving to the basket, the brute panicked, stepped in, fearing Lin Fei would shoot—everyone knew letting Lin Fei shoot meant letting him score. He jumped to block Lin Fei's path, but Lin Fei leapt and shot. The brute's hand touched Lin Fei's arm, yet the ball still went in—unbelievable!

Third shot, fourth shot...

By the tenth, they tried to stop Lin Fei from even receiving the ball, cutting off his source for shooting. But that was hardly realistic. Lin Fei pointed to the hoop, signaling his intention for a one-on-one. Suddenly, his teammates were filled with confidence, going for solo drives, attacking the basket. Lin Fei watched, his teammate passed out, Lin Fei caught the ball, charged to the basket, pressed down on an opponent’s shoulder, and slammed the ball into the hoop.

10:0!

From the impossible spinning, leaning three-pointer to the final overpowering dunk, it was as if a celestial being had descended.

Adoration!

Have you seen "Old Boys"? Remember the scene with the fat guy standing with the sun behind him? Four words—it was just the same!

Wild play, wild display of exquisite skills, wild admiration. But was everything encountered on this court all Lin Fei would have to face? Amidst a crowd's praise—supreme talent, supreme shooting, masterful dribbling, blazing speed, sharp breakthroughs—was this all he should have? On the school basketball court, he always felt a cut above the rest. Sometimes, he would recite, "Standing atop the peak, all other mountains seem small." Such a confident and gifted child. Yet, he was still just a child.