A brilliant basketball journey, a dazzling spectacle.

Chapter 155

There was a line of athletes in training uniforms in front of the window, both men and women, tall and short.

Lin Feng, carrying his tray, stood in line behind a tall man. The tall man glanced back at him, then turned away expressionlessly. The woman serving food at the window, wearing a white coat and hat, scooped up food spoonful by spoonful with practiced ease, each spoonful containing roughly the same amount.

Lin Feng ordered three dishes—braised chicken pieces, stir-fried bean sprouts, and scrambled eggs with tomatoes. He also ordered a large bowl of rice. He took his tray and found a corner to sit down.

Several basketball players were sitting at the next table; they were all very tall, the shortest being at least 1.9 meters. They were eating and chatting, mostly about training.

"During the scrimmage this afternoon, Lao Li scolded me again. He said I only know how to drive inside and don't know how to pass the ball."

"You're terrible at passing. You get the ball and just push inside, then you pass it out when you can't push any further, like squeezing toothpaste."

"Get lost. You think you're a good shooter? You went 0-for-6 from three-point range today, and you still have the nerve to criticize me."

Several people laughed.

Lin Feng ate with his head down. The chicken pieces were a bit salty, the bean sprouts were crunchy, and the scrambled eggs with tomatoes were sweet and sour. He ate at a moderate pace, listening to their conversation as he ate.

After finishing his meal, he returned to his dormitory.

His other two roommates hadn't arrived yet. He made his bed, folded his clothes and put them in the closet, and placed the ball on the bedside table. Then he sat down at his desk, took out his notebook and pen, and began writing in his diary.

This is his habit. He didn't have it in his past life, but he developed it in this one—writing something down every day, recording his training, feelings, and thoughts. He feels he has too many things to do in this life, and he's afraid that one day he'll forget why he started.

He wrote:

July 5, 1996, provincial capital, sunny.

Today I arrived at the provincial sports training center. The city is huge, the buildings are tall, and there are many people.

There are three people living in the dormitory; the other two haven't arrived yet.

The food in the cafeteria was good, but the chicken nuggets were a bit salty.

Sister Yuxin said that Beichuan is also sunny.

Training starts tomorrow. No need to be nervous.

He stopped writing here and looked at the last line.

I'm not nervous.

That's the truth. It's not that he wasn't nervous; he simply didn't have time to be. His experiences from his forty-three previous lives had taught him a lesson: being nervous solves nothing; only action does.

He closed the notebook, lay down on the bed, and closed his eyes.

Outside the window, on the track and field, people were still running. The sound of footsteps came from afar, one after another, like a heartbeat.

He listened to that voice and slowly fell asleep.

That evening, the other two roommates arrived.

One of them was named Chen Hao, seventeen years old, 1.96 meters tall, and played small forward. He had very fair skin, a thin face, and wore black-rimmed glasses—it was the first time Lin Feng had ever seen a basketball player wear glasses, especially the thick kind with lenses like the bottom of a beer bottle. He was from the provincial capital and spoke with a strong provincial accent, his words rising at the end.

The other one was named Gao Yuan, sixteen years old, 1.88 meters tall, and played point guard. He had dark skin, strong muscles, and bulging veins on his arms, like earthworms coiled under his skin. He came from a county town below the provincial capital, spoke loudly, and his laughter could be heard throughout the entire hallway.

The three introduced themselves and their locations.

After tidying up his things, Chen Hao leaned against the headboard, pushed up his glasses, and looked Lin Feng up and down.

"From Beichuan?" he asked.

Lin Feng nodded.

Where in Beichuan?

Beichuan City. Jianshe Road.

Chen Hao thought for a moment. "I've never been."

Gao Yuan was making the bed, his movements rough and the sheets were all wrinkled. He didn't look up, and his voice came out muffledly from under the sheets.