Ace vs Ace

Ma Li took a sip of water and said to Lin Mo, "Lin Mo, let me play one more quarter."

Su Mingzhao remained silent, simply watching the boy who was stretching nearby.

Lin Mo pointed at the boy and asked, "Is he strong? Why do you two look so nervous?"

"That's Lu Zhiyi. Don't let his height fool you—his drives are fierce, and his shooting is even fiercer."

Lin Mo let out an "Oh" and went back to sitting on the bench, occasionally sipping his Thunder Cola.

The third quarter continued!

Class Three started with the ball.

As soon as they got possession, they passed it to Lu Zhiyi, who quickly set up a screen.

Lu Zhiyi dribbled toward the opposite end, not too fast, stopping just beyond the three-point line for a jump shot.

Everyone's eyes followed the ball as it swished through the net with a crisp "swoosh."

The next second, cheers erupted from Class Three's side.

Meanwhile, Class Eight erupted in curses.

"Damn, that was way too cocky."

Only Ma Li and Su Mingzhao looked grim.

They knew all too well—Lu Zhiyi was on another level, stronger than Lei Qi or any of the three who had humiliated Su Mingzhao before.

In the school basketball team, he was the captain of the first string.

Ma Li was also on the first string, while Su Mingzhao was stuck on the second.

Lu Zhiyi glanced at Ma Li, who was handling the ball, and casually asked, "Your foot healed?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Otherwise, you’d be rotting in the second-string trash heap."

Su Mingzhao overheard but showed no reaction, simply moving into position for offense.

Ma Li, as the towering center, drove in and passed—only for a figure to dart in and intercept.

"Tsk, you always pass from the right. Too predictable."

Lu Zhiyi snatched the ball and sprinted past Ma Li for an easy layup.

Just like that, they closed the gap by five points.

After scoring, Lu Zhiyi turned his head toward Lin Mo, his eyes burning with challenge.

Clearly, he wanted a one-on-one with Lin Mo.

Tall trees catch the wind—Lin Mo’s popularity naturally drew challengers.

So Lin Mo lazily raised a hand and called, "Time-out."

Ma Li, about to inbound, stopped and exhaled deeply.

Two time-outs in less than a minute.

Ma Li and Su Mingzhao walked over. "Lin Mo, he might be here for you."

"Damn right I am. They say you're good. Let’s see who’s better—you or me."

Lu Zhiyi strode over, locking eyes with Lin Mo.

"If Class Three wins today, you join the team. If Class Eight wins, I quit."

So this was a recruitment pitch.

Lin Mo shook his head.

"If you win, I’ll join. If I win, you’re buying drinks for everyone."

Then he glanced at Ma Li and Su Mingzhao.

"You two wouldn’t screw me over, right?"

Ma Li protested immediately. "Hell no. I’d never do that—though I do want you on the team."

Su Mingzhao shrugged. "I’m second-string. Don’t care."

Gao Yuanqiang was subbed out.

He sighed in relief. "Finally. Time to coast to victory."

With that, he plopped onto the bench—on the opposite side from where Lin Mo had been sitting.

No way was he sitting next to Jiang Yunlu.

He wasn’t that suicidal.

The ten players on the court got into position.

Lin Mo sauntered up to Lu Zhiyi, and the two faced off, crouching low.

Basketball is a team game of defense and offense.

Mostly one-on-one, but if a matchup fails, teammates have to cover—leading to two-on-one situations.

And that leaves someone open.

Matchups matter, especially now—Lin Mo versus Lu Zhiyi.

Lu Zhiyi grinned. "I’ve seen you play. Your technique’s rough, but your reflexes are insane. You always find the opening."

He suddenly closed in. "But I won’t let you—"

The ball flew toward Lin Mo, who caught it one-handed, stepped back, and launched a shot from half-court.

Lu Zhiyi’s eyes widened. He spun around just in time to see—

Swoosh!

Nothing but net.

Lu Zhiyi had shot from beyond the arc. Lin Mo had shot from half-court.

An even cockier display.

Even Class Three’s side couldn’t help but erupt in cheers.

The entire gym went wild.

Even the usually quiet Jiang Yunlu was jumping and waving.

"Go Lin Mo! Go Lin Mo!"

Lin Mo smirked, cracking his neck. "Alright. Now the game starts."

Lu Zhiyi’s fighting spirit burned even hotter.

"I will get you on the team."

Class Three inbounded, passing straight to Lu Zhiyi—but Lin Mo was already in his face.

"Let’s see who outplays who."

Lu Zhiyi exploded left, dribbling at full speed.

Yet a shadow clung to him like a second skin.

No matter how he juked, Lin Mo’s hands stayed in the way.

No drive, no shot—nothing.

Before Lu Zhiyi could react, a teammate set a screen, hands low, ready to block.

A screen only lasts a second, but that’s all Lu Zhiyi needed to slip past and rise for a jumper.

Except Lin Mo had seen it coming. He spun around, leaped—

Lu Zhiyi had jumped first, already locking onto the basket.

But as the ball left his fingers, Lin Mo soared higher, his palm slamming the ball mid-arc.

Smack!

Blocked!

A clean block—the ball still rising.

If it had been descending, it’d be goaltending.

The ball flew toward the opposite end.

Su Mingzhao was already sprinting, scooping it up for an easy layup.

Lu Zhiyi landed, staring at Lin Mo. "Lin Mo, if you joined, we could win nationals."

"I’m not Sakuragi Hanamichi," Lin Mo said, shaking his head.

If he focused on basketball, the story’d have to be renamed: Rebirth of the Cultivator: Lin Mo’s Basketball Journey.

Would that even make sense?

Lu Zhiyi took a deep breath. "No matter what, I will get you on the team."

Lin Mo grinned. "Sorry to disappoint, but—hell no."