Chapter Thirty-Three: The Majesty of a King

Yang Li opened his eyes, a trace of unease flickering within his otherwise calm gaze. Lin Fei stood on the sidelines, watching the unfolding scene on the court without blinking once. In their hearts, there was an uncanny tranquility.

Number 11 set up at the top, 43 took position inside, while 1 and 18 moved to the three-point line at the 45-degree angles. Number 12 was on the right. Number 11 broke through, coordinating with 1 and 18’s off-ball movement. Yang Li was already familiar with this tactic. The setup ensured that neither 1 nor 18 could easily receive the ball; the most likely recipient was 43, with 12 as the second option, cutting to the baseline three-point line during the play. Since the players were so versed in this system, they naturally focused on denying 43 the ball. Number 11’s drive was like tearing open a seam—no matter how you protected your heart, you couldn’t guard your bones. Number 11 sent a bounce pass straight to 12, lurking at the baseline as planned. 12 caught and shot immediately. Yun Zhongyue had just rotated to help deny the pass to 43, unwittingly leaving space for 12 to shoot. The ball swished cleanly through the net.

Yang Li shook his head. Indeed, even if you know your opponent’s tactics inside out, without powerful execution, it’s all for nothing. When facing a formidable adversary like Shandong University of Science and Technology, their plays can morph into many forms; it all depends on the players. And the Shandong Science and Technology men’s team certainly had the skill.

Now it was Shandong University of Finance and Economics on offense. Number 3 pushed the ball up quickly, his teammates sprinted to their positions, but unexpectedly, the defense from Shandong Science and Technology, though not yet fully set, was still organized and effective. Every sharpshooter on the perimeter had a defender close by. That’s what ability looks like. It was a pity Shandong Finance had no big men who could shoot threes; if they had someone like Kevin Love, Okur, or Nowitzki, Shandong Science and Technology would have a headache. But they didn’t—their 10 and 8 simply didn’t have that skill set. With the fast break stifled, they had to settle into a half-court offense.

Number 3 faced number 11’s defense, crossing over deftly, looking to penetrate. Yun Zhongyue was still entangled with number 0. Number 3 shook free of 11, 12 rotated to cover, so 3 stepped back—clearly lacking confidence to drive all the way in—and passed to number 1 at the baseline. Yun Zhongyue, too, had sprinted to the baseline, screening for 1. Number 1 drove the baseline, spun, and finished a reverse layup. Success. Shandong Finance still packed a punch.

Thanks to their strong teamwork, Shandong Finance ended the first quarter tied with their opponent, something Shandong Science and Technology had not expected. They didn’t know much about Shandong Finance, but from the first quarter, it was clear they were no pushover. The coach had warned them not to underestimate their foe, and he had been right.

In the second quarter, Yang Li sent Lin Fei onto the court and emphasized that the tactics should adapt accordingly.

Lin Fei, upon entering, was visibly tense—his movements a bit stiff, which was understandable given the gravity of this match pressing down on everyone like a mountain. Who wouldn’t be nervous when thrown into such a crucial game?

Lin Fei quickly assessed the situation. The opposing defense was tight; whenever Shandong Finance’s offense created an open look, the defense recovered instantly, leaving the team hesitant to shoot. For an offense-oriented team, being so thoroughly contained was suffocating.

Lin Fei was immediately given the ball—his speed might just unlock the game. It was man-to-man. Lin Fei used two quick crossovers, shaking off number 11 and slicing into the paint, but number 12 stepped up. Lin Fei spun, faded away, and number 12 stuck to him, leaping to block. But Lin Fei released the ball with an almost unnatural degree of backwards lean, sending it arcing nearly straight up—yet, "swish," it dropped cleanly through the hoop. Lin Fei tumbled to the floor. Even the commentator couldn’t help but exclaim, “What a shot! To break through at that speed, spin, fade away, and still release with such elevation—rarely seen even among college players.”

Was it a fluke? Both Yang Li and Lin Fei knew the answer. The opponent’s defense was built on team cohesion, leveraging their even skill distribution to suppress their rivals collectively. But this approach was vulnerable when faced with a superstar—someone who could target any weak spot and attack mercilessly, rendering the team defense ineffective. Lin Fei’s approach was just that. The previous offense relied on ball movement to find the best shot, so the defense only needed to anticipate passing lanes and the next shooter to disrupt the play. But Lin Fei’s sequence—ball in hand, drive, shot—could be executed with little help, allowing his individual brilliance to shine.

Perhaps it was a one-off. At least that’s what the Shandong Science and Technology players, coaches, and fans hoped. They refused to believe Yang Li would keep such a potent scorer on the bench until the second quarter.

But even with Lin Fei on the floor, Shandong Finance’s defense didn’t tighten up, and Shandong Science and Technology still scored at will. Shandong Finance could keep pace with their firepower for now, but that wasn’t a sustainable strategy. To win, you must score—and stop your opponent from scoring.

Now it was 11 and 12’s turn to answer Lin Fei’s challenge. Youthful pride, after all, demanded it. They planned their next attack for a guard to finish. Physically, 11 and 12 were superior to Lin Fei, but his partnership with Yun Zhongyue made Shandong Finance’s backcourt tough to break through. 12 initiated the offense, 11 sprinted off-ball, and their bigs scrapped for position. With Lin Fei on the floor, Shandong Finance had clearly increased their defensive rotations. Suddenly, 43 sealed position for just a moment—enough for 12 to slip him the ball. 43 spun to the hoop, found it empty, and hammered home a dunk, roaring and beating his chest—a hint of provocation.

Lin Fei pondered: a strong team is just that. They have tactics but never stick to the script, always finding the optimal scoring chance at the right moment. Things were getting complicated.

On Shandong Finance’s next possession, number 11 clamped down on Lin Fei, hounding him every step—a style Lin Fei usually found troublesome, as it made movement difficult and the referee would likely miss most of the contact. But Lin Fei had his own methods. With a burst of speed and a sudden stop, he sent 11 stumbling, then calmly hit a mid-range jumper. The ball obediently fell through.

The Shandong Science and Technology coach quickly called timeout. This surprise attacker, so devastating one-on-one, had caught them off guard. They would have to change their defensive tactics.

Yang Li was quick to adapt. “They’ll focus on Lin Fei and Yun Zhongyue now. The one they’ll likely neglect is you, number 8. The game rests on your offense.” The players could hardly believe it. In the entire team, few could match 8’s defense, but on offense, most surpassed him—his skills were raw, his footwork under the basket awkward. He could dunk, and dunk only. Making him the primary option was a stretch.

Sure enough, 11 and 12 formed a double barrier, and their power forward cheated toward Yun Zhongyue, just as Yang Li predicted.

Lin Fei feinted a drive; 11 and 12, wary of his penetration, hurried to cut him off. Lin Fei braked, then slipped the ball to Yun Zhongyue at the 45-degree angle. Yun Zhongyue had two choices—shoot or pass inside to 8. The safer bet was to follow the coach’s plan. He sent it to 8, who, energized, spun hard to the basket. Despite number 43’s defense, he charged straight at the rim. Though 8 played power forward, his style was more center-like, but with number 10 as the main center, 8 had shifted to the four. The Science and Technology center was not about to let a lumbering big man run wild in his paint. He bodied up, raising his arms to block, but this played right into 8’s hands. His post moves were limited, but he was skilled at drawing fouls. Shandong Science and Technology handed over two free throws, and 8 made them both.

The game grew ever more intricate. Shandong Science and Technology balanced offense and defense, blending teamwork and individual talent seamlessly. Shandong Finance, however, played isolation or team ball—rarely both at once. Their offense was formidable, but their defense sprang leaks under pressure.

Stamina was finite. From Lin Fei’s second-quarter entry to the start of the fourth, Shandong Finance kept pace. But in the third, fatigue took its toll; they fell behind by eight, and frustration began to show.

In the final period, Yang Li realized his players were spent. He considered sending in the substitutes—they had energy, but less ability. Keeping the starters risked a collapse. Their opponents were also tired, but their workload was a bit lighter; they might have the edge. What to do? It was a hard choice. In the end, Yang Li left the decision to his players.

“You guys okay to keep going?” Yang Li asked.

“No problem!” the players shouted in unison, the substitutes chiming in too. Yang Li was amazed. Since Lin Fei joined, his own confidence had soared, his coaching grew more passionate, and the team’s unity underwent a transformation. Now, their spirit of perseverance was beyond anything he’d imagined.

“Good. Let’s go!” he said.

“Let’s go!” The players roared, their voices shaking the arena.

“Who would have thought Shandong University of Finance and Economics would fight so fiercely today, with such spirit. These players are truly a revelation,” the commentator said, excitement in his voice.

Yang Li thought, with a team like this, what does losing matter? To stand toe-to-toe with the nation’s top teams, he had no regrets.

But Lin Fei and Yun Zhongyue thought differently. On the court, whether trailing or leading, they had only one thought: victory.

Lin Fei said to his teammates as he moved, “Keep pace with me!”

Was it possible? Was Lin Fei about to enter his “madman mode”? In practice, no one had ever seen Lin Fei truly go all out in a game, but those who’d witnessed his last-minute frenzy in that scrimmage between the department team and the PE department still remembered it vividly.

The teammates exchanged glances, their meaning clear: give it your all.

Lin Fei found his rhythm, closed his eyes. The court, the rim, the players, the lines—all melted away until the court belonged to him alone. His heartbeat, breath, and dribbling merged into one. He started, accelerated, sprinted—he was in the zone. The ball in his hands seemed to radiate a murderous aura; to laymen, nothing seemed amiss, but any true connoisseur would sense the coming disaster.

Lin Fei controlled the ball, flew past half court—two seconds, not even three—then launched a deep three. His audacity stunned the opposition—was he trying for a buzzer-beater already? Yes, Lin Fei decided to treat every shot as if it were for the win. The ball soared through the air for what seemed an eternity, then splashed through the net. Lin Fei pumped his fist, invigorating his teammates, who knew the most terrifying version of Lin Fei had arrived—the ultimate killer.

The opponents’ offense remained fierce, exploiting their size inside. But next possession, Lin Fei broke quickly to the three-point line and passed to Yun Zhongyue, who didn’t hesitate—another basket. Ever since Lin Fei’s long-range bomb, Shandong Finance’s offense came alive; now, every shot seemed to fall.

With twenty seconds left, the teams were tied. Shandong Finance had the last possession. Twenty seconds, enough for a full play.

Yun Zhongyue inbounded. The defense pressed full court. Yang Li grinned—here was their chance. Lin Fei sprinted, caught the ball, and raced up the court, leaving defenders in his wake. At the three-point arc, he hesitated, slowing down. He could take the shot with ninety percent confidence, but that would give the opponents enough time for a last-second answer—not worth the risk.

He pulled it out, retreated to midcourt, and organized the offense. The atmosphere was electric. Who would take the final shot? Lin Fei, with his range, was the obvious choice, and the defense was ready for him.

The clock ticked down—10, 9, 8, 7, 6—Lin Fei accelerated. Two defenders closed in. 5, 4—number 11 was in his face; 12 hovered nearby, ready to help.

3, 2—one more defender joined, double-teaming Lin Fei. He was surrounded.

Clenching his jaw, Lin Fei leapt, two hands reaching—one swatting at the ball, one shielding his eyes. Lin Fei arched back, twisting his body to avoid the block, shooting blind. The ball sailed high, evading both defenders, heading straight for the rim. “Clang”—it struck the back of the rim, bounced again, then dropped in.

The Shandong Finance players stormed the court, hoisting Lin Fei into the air, then tossing Yang Li up as well. Celebrating like this in the opponent’s gym might be frowned upon, but in the face of victory, nothing else mattered.

Tears filled Yang Li’s eyes. Countless memories rushed back to him. Lin Fei smiled softly, unruffled as ever. They had won. But as always, even in victory, Lin Fei was already thinking about the next challenge.