Chapter 46.1: Our girl calls the shots.

Class Seven’s attack was swift. Shen Juan called out, and the five opposing players quickly closed in on the three-point zone. Wang Yiyang yelled angrily, turned his head, and ran for the basket.

He was too late. Ning Yuan’s shot was beautifully executed, and a burst of enthusiastic cheers came from the opposing stands. Class Seven’s Little Mermaid cheerleaders jumped up and down.

As the third quarter started the score was immediately tied, and Class Ten called a timeout.

Shen Juan was already on his feet, seemingly fine but looking unhappy. Wang Yiyang, the first to rush over to him, leaned toward him and frowned. “How are you feeling?”

Shen Juan rubbed his stomach. “I’m fine.”

Wang Yiyang nodded and straightened up, moving to charge the opposing team and looking ready for a fight.

Shen Juan grabbed his arm. “What are you doing? Done playing ball?”

Wang Yiyang turned around, looking gloomy. “Who does that number 13 think he is? Who the f*ck does he think he’s dealing with?”

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In reality, Shen Juan was not fine. His stomach was still cramping from the hit; when he took the elbow he’d almost thrown up.

Based on what Song Zhiming said, Ning Yuan wasn’t specifically targeting Shen Juan. He just liked to play dirty. 

Mentioning Luo Qinghe was probably just to distract him, to make him vulnerable.

The question was, why did he know about Luo Qinghe?

Shen Juan calmed down and searched his memory for any information about Ning Yuan, his appearance, or anyone with the family name Ning, but came up with nothing.

He really didn’t know this person.

Perhaps noticing his gaze, Ning Yuan turned to look at him with a gentle smile.

If you ignored the disquieting look in his eyes, he could easily come across as a good person.

After the timeout ended, Song Zhiming kept advising. “Watch out for Ning Yuan, don’t give him another chance to strike. This guy is really good at finding blind spots.”

“No, I really don’t understand,” Yu Pengfei was puzzled. “Why is he doing this? Does he just want to win?”

“Are you an idiot?” Song Zhiming glanced at him, “Of course he wants to win. Who doesn’t want to win? I want to f*cking win too. Brother Yang, do you think he’s stupid?”

Wang Yiyang walked quietly beside them.

Lin Yujing felt like something was a little off.

Sure enough, as the match picked up again, Wang Yiyang was like an angry little monster, filled with uncontrollable anger as he kept a close watch on Ning Yuan. If Ning Yuan was within a meter of Shen Juan, Wang Yiyang would charge over.

Shen Juan called him several times, but Wang Yiyang seemed oblivious to it. This was the first time Lin Yujing had seen him ignore Shen Juan.

He was like a little overwound robot. As soon as he got the ball he leapt over the midline, easily bypassed two opposing players, and stepped into the three-point line, only to be blocked by Ning Yuan.

From afar the fiery red and night-blue jerseys looked closely pressed together. Ning Yuan had his back to Lin Yujing, and the large, bright-yellow number 13 stood out.

Lin Yujing felt an inexplicable sense of panic. She took a couple steps to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Wang Yiyang’s expression, and just as she steadied herself she saw Wang Yiyang clutch his knee and fall to the ground.

Song Zhiming was entangled with Xu Jie. He took a moment to react, but after a few seconds he turned and yelled, “Wang Yiyang!”

Li Lin jumped up from his seat. “No whistle? Is this referee f*cking blind? Referee!”

Liu Fujiang quickly called for a timeout. Everyone from Class Ten jumped out of their seats, and the stands echoed with cursing and boos. 

Yu Pengfei carried Wang Yiyang on his back. Everyone looked sullen, their faces carrying varying degrees of suppressed anger. 

Shen Juan was last, eyes lowered, jawline tense.

Wang Yiyang sat down beside them, and Liu Fujiang crouched down to check his knee as Song Zhiming turned to survey the substitutes. Before he could say anything, Li Lin jumped up and said, “Let me!”

Liu Fujiang’s fingers pressed against Wang Yiyang’s knee, who leaned over and said through gritted teeth, “I can still—”

“Like f*ck you can!” Song Zhiming smacked him on head, “What the f*ck did I just tell you? Why are you going for Ning Yuan? Are you trying to fight him or something? Hurry up and go to the infirmary!”

Song Zhiming turned back, grimly scanned the substitutes, and finally looked at Li Lin with a pained expression, “Brother…”

Li Lin stood there trembling and patting his chest, like a valiant warrior preparing for sacrifice, and nervously stuttered, “Don’t worry, I-I-I’ll handle it!”

Song Zhiming: “…”

Lin Yujing said with a sigh, “Captain, I’ll do it.”

[1] “宁” – “Ning” – can mean “peaceful” or “tranquil.”