A Badminton Birdie Brushing Past the Face

Ten minutes later.

In the end, Lin Mo still didn’t agree to Xu Congjun’s bet.

Not because he couldn’t do it, but because he never intended to agree in the first place.

Bets like these shouldn’t involve others as stakes.

That was Lin Mo’s principle.

"Both sides, take your positions!"

Wang Yiping held a coin in his hand and looked toward Lin Mo’s side.

"Heads or tails?"

A one-yuan coin had a flower on one side and a numerical value on the other.

A coin toss was the simplest way to decide who would serve first.

So Lin Mo casually chose tails.

If he wanted, he could easily influence the outcome, but he didn’t.

Who served first made no difference to him.

The coin landed on the back of his hand.

He flipped it over—tails was up.

Lin Mo’s side would serve first.

Holding a brand-new shuttlecock, Lin Mo served with a backhand.

Wang Senling, positioned diagonally across the court, immediately sent a high lob toward Jiang Yunlu at the back.

"So sneaky!" Wang Qin cursed from the sidelines.

Fang Jun, unfamiliar with badminton, asked quietly, "What’s wrong?"

"Yunlu sprained her ankle and can’t jump. If the shuttle lands deep in the backcourt, it’s easy to return with another high lob."

"So what happens then?"

The high lob arced toward Jiang Yunlu’s head.

Unable to jump, she took two steps back and swung her racket.

The shuttle soared to a new height, flying toward Xu Congjun’s side.

Wang Qin finally answered, "They’ll smash it."

Xu Congjun’s eyes flashed with intensity as he leaped into the air for a powerful smash—aimed straight at Lin Mo.

But Lin Mo merely flicked his wrist, effortlessly returning the smash and sending it lightly over the net, where it landed untouched.

Xu Congjun didn’t even have time to react.

Lin Mo looked at him calmly.

"Not good enough."

Xu Congjun picked up the shuttle and replied just as coolly,

"Just one point."

1-0.

With that, Xu Congjun served the shuttle back.

Lin Mo raised his racket, catching it smoothly—his form clearly that of a seasoned player.

But Xu Congjun refused to believe Lin Mo could actually beat him.

So he decided to take things a little more seriously.

As if replaying the previous round, Wang Senling sent another high lob.

This time, however, Lin Mo didn’t let Jiang Yunlu take it.

"Let me handle it."

He sprinted to the backcourt, leaped high, and smashed the shuttle downward.

The shuttle cut through the air at blistering speed, grazing Wang Senling’s face as it passed.

A stinging heat spread across her cheek.

Lin Mo landed lightly.

"If you want to play dirty, I can help."

Wang Senling touched her face, relieved to find no blood, then raised her hand.

"I’m reporting them—are they playing badminton or assault?"

Lin Mo turned to Wang Yiping and shrugged.

"I don’t recall any rule against that in badminton. If this counts as a foul, then all you have to do is run into the shuttle."

His words were a clear jab at Wang Senling.

Wang Yiping didn’t say much, only reminding Lin Mo,

"Just avoid hitting sensitive areas like the eyes."

Lin Mo nodded.

"Of course. I’m not that underhanded."

He served again.

The same opening move, but Xu Congjun had switched tactics.

Now, both were locked in a net battle, exchanging low shots.

They traded blows half a dozen times in rapid succession.

Xu Congjun was surprised by Lin Mo’s reflexes and speed—he hadn’t expected him to keep up.

Still, he refused to admit Lin Mo was better.

"If I’m not mistaken, you’re the one Jiang Yunlu keeps raving about. But honestly, you’re nothing special."

Xu Congjun was slightly winded but still composed.

Lin Mo, meanwhile, grinned.

"Oh? Then I’ll just have to speed up."

With that, he accelerated, sending the next shuttle rocketing toward the backcourt with even greater force.

Wang Senling didn’t react in time—the shuttle smacked into her body.

Xu Congjun’s face darkened as he glared at her.

"Are you just here to watch?"

Wang Senling was just as stunned. One moment, they were locked in a net duel; the next, the shuttle was flying at her.

Lin Mo chuckled.

"What’s wrong? Can’t keep up, so you blame your teammate? Didn’t you say I was nothing special?"

The taunt left Xu Congjun seething.

Even Wang Senling’s expression soured.

Lin Mo glanced back at Jiang Yunlu, who flashed him a bright smile and a peace sign.

Seeing her rare smile, Xu Congjun felt an inexplicable pang—he knew it wasn’t meant for him.

Morale: -10.

Lin Mo served again.

True to his word, he didn’t drop a single point, targeting Wang Senling with nearly every shot.

He avoided her face and chest, letting the shuttle graze her occasionally instead.

By now, Wang Senling was on the verge of breaking down.

But Lin Mo showed no mercy.

Even Wang Yiping found it hard to watch, but he stayed silent.

As long as no one got hurt or started a fight, he’d let the kids handle it themselves.

He remembered all too well what happened to Coach Long—his fate hadn’t been pretty.

Lin Mo wasn’t someone to provoke.

All the gym teachers shared an office, and news of Coach Long’s downfall had spread fast.

First, he’d died at home under mysterious circumstances. Then, he’d resigned and left Guangba High.

That alone was enough to make everyone wary of Lin Mo.

Rumor had it even Director Huang backed him.

None of the gym teachers knew Lin Mo’s exact background, but they sensed it was formidable.

So Wang Yiping didn’t intervene, sticking to his role as referee.

The match was best of three.

Lin Mo took the first game single-handedly, scoring all 21 points.

Wang Senling and Xu Congjun didn’t score a single one.

If mixed doubles rules hadn’t forced Jiang Yunlu to stay on the court, she’d have been lounging on the bench long ago.

With every point Lin Mo won, the Class 8 students erupted in cheers.

Lin Mo eyed Xu Congjun.

"Admit defeat now, and you won’t lose as badly."

Xu Congjun scoffed.

"Who do you think I am? If you’ve got the guts, face me one-on-one!"

Lin Mo turned to Wang Yiping.

"Teacher, since Jiang Yunlu is injured, why not let her rest? I can take them both on alone."

His tone was casual, but the words were pure arrogance.

Not because he wanted to show off—these people just needed to be put in their place.

Wang Yiping glanced at Jiang Yunlu, who was sitting on the bench during the break.

He looked at Xu Congjun’s side.

"Any objections?"

With their opponents down a player, agreeing was the logical choice.

Xu Congjun, who genuinely cared about Jiang Yunlu, answered without hesitation,

"No problem here."

"I object. This isn’t fair."

Jiang Yunlu, still on the bench, spoke up.