Not What You Think

Seeing the two charging toward him, Su Yang swiftly dribbled backward.

Han Xiaoyu and Yang Yuwei clung to him like stubborn shadows, refusing to let up.

But defense at this level was child’s play for him.

A smirk curled at his lips as he prepared to toy with them.

Su Yang deliberately slowed his pace. Yang Yuwei jogged forward, reaching for the ball, but he effortlessly spun away.

No sooner had he shaken off one than Han Xiaoyu closed in, stepping up aggressively.

"If you two can steal this ball from me today, I’ll do a hundred push-ups on the spot."

"Don’t look down on us!" Han Xiaoyu puffed her cheeks indignantly.

"Heh, give it a shot then."

Nearby, Zhang Ziming didn’t bother defending anymore, opting instead to stand aside with an amused grin.

Han Xiaoyu lunged at Su Yang, swiping for the ball.

Su Yang lowered his stance and executed a smooth crossover, evading her effortlessly.

"Argh! I refuse to believe this!" Han Xiaoyu stomped her foot in frustration before turning to Yang Yuwei. "Yuwei, let’s double-team him!"

"Got it!"

The two charged from opposite directions once more.

Su Yang chuckled, stopping abruptly and raising the ball high. He expected them to jump for it, but instead, they resorted to outright cheating.

Han Xiaoyu grabbed his right arm from the left, while Yang Yuwei crouched and latched onto his left leg.

Su Yang blinked, then laughed in exasperation. "Seriously? That’s a foul! Basketball isn’t played like this!"

"Don’t care!" they retorted shamelessly.

Trapped by their absurd defense, Su Yang had no choice but to pass the ball to Yaya under the basket.

"Yaya, catch!" He lobbed it over.

Yaya leaped, snatching the ball midair before pushing it upward with both hands.

The ball bounced off the rim a few times before dropping through the net.

Only after the score did Han Xiaoyu and Yang Yuwei finally release him.

"Ugh, so annoying!"

"Tch. Even if you guard me, my teammates got my back."

Su Yang grinned, walking over to high-five Yaya in celebration.

"Nice! We’re ahead now—4 to 3!" Meng Wenzhou called from the sidelines.

Liu Bo sidled up to him, muttering, "Why didn’t we get this kind of tight defense earlier?"

Meng Wenzhou shrugged. "Who knows?"

"This is so unfair!" Liu Bo clenched his fists, glaring enviously at Su Yang.

The game resumed.

Su Yang passed to Tang Ziyun, but her focus wavered, and the ball slipped past her. Just before it went out of bounds, Zhang Ziming sprinted over and snatched it.

This time, he didn’t pass—instead, he drove straight to the hoop for a layup.

The score flipped again: 4–5, the lead razor-thin.

Zhang Ziming’s team served once more. Su Yang stuck close on defense, and this time, Zhang Ziming’s shot missed.

Su Yang grabbed the rebound and dished it back to Tang Ziyun.

Tang Ziyun dribbled twice near the free-throw line before Han Xiaoyu and Yang Yuwei swarmed her.

At the last second, she hurled the ball desperately toward Yaya.

Yaya caught it and, without hesitation, passed to Su Yang as he cut toward her.

Su Yang caught it mid-stride, pulled up, and fired a jumper.

Swish!

6–5, another lead change.

"So cool! Go, go!" Shen Yixue cheered wildly from the sidelines.

Zhang Ziming frowned at her. "Uh, whose side are you on?"

Shen Yixue froze, realizing she’d been rooting for the wrong team.

Blushing, she stammered, "Oops, my bad! Go, Ziming!"

Zhang Ziming sighed, retreating beyond the three-point line. He smirked at Su Yang.

"Not bad, Yang. How many years has it been since you last played?"

"Way too long. But I’m getting back into the groove. Don’t get too confident."

"The score’s barely halfway. Plenty of time."

Two more scoreless possessions passed before Zhang Ziming’s team regained possession.

He crouched low, dribbling deliberately as Su Yang spread his arms, locking in on defense.

[Ding! Host is thoroughly enjoying the match. Reward: 2 million.]

The system’s abrupt notification broke Su Yang’s focus for a split second.

Seizing the opening, Zhang Ziming blew past him.

Tang Ziyun and Yaya offered token resistance, but Zhang Ziming scored easily.

6–7, another flip.

Drenched in sweat, Zhang Ziming eyed Su Yang’s dry forehead.

"Are you even human? How are you not sweating in this heat?"

"Just built different, I guess."

Su Yang brushed it off, eyes locked on the ball.

Zhang Ziming opted for a three-pointer this time—but it clanked off the rim, and Tang Ziyun snatched the rebound.

Han Xiaoyu closed in instantly, forcing Tang Ziyun to pass back to Su Yang.

Su Yang blew past Zhang Ziming, charging for a layup—until Yang Yuwei materialized in his path.

He couldn’t stop in time, crashing into her as he flung the ball upward.

Yang Yuwei yelped, stumbling backward.

Su Yang lunged to catch her, but her flailing hands latched onto him, dragging them both down.

Thud!

Yang Yuwei hit the ground first, Su Yang landing atop her.

"Ow! That hurt!" she whined, rubbing her back.

Su Yang stifled a laugh, quickly rolling off and pulling her up.

"You okay?"

"My butt’s killing me," she grumbled, massaging her backside.

"Can you keep playing?"

"Yeah, just give me a sec."

"Alright, two-minute water break."

The group retreated to the sidelines. Su Yang walked over to Pan Ning, who arched a brow at him.

"Tired?"

"A bit. Man, I’m rusty. Back in the day, I’d have hit 15 points and ended this already."

"Here." Pan Ning handed him an ice-cold water bottle, already opened.

Su Yang took it with a grin. "You’re the best."

"Of course. Unlike some people, I won’t chuck a water bottle at you."

"Pfft—!" Su Yang spat out his drink, drenching Pan Ning’s neck and swimsuit.

He hastily wiped the water off her—prompting loud protests from Liu Bo and Meng Wenzhou.

"Yo, Yang! Keep it PG!" Liu Bo yelled.

"Yeah, read the room," Meng Wenzhou added, deadpan.

Su Yang rolled his eyes. "Not what it looks like!"

After some banter, they returned to finish the game.

In the end, Su Yang’s team lost by a single point to Zhang Ziming’s.

After everyone had rested and chatted for a while, Liu Bo's team and Zhang Ziming's team began their final showdown.

After about twenty minutes, Zhang Ziming smoothly lost to Liu Bo with a score of 11 to 15.

Meng Wenzhou promptly took out his phone and transferred 66,666 yuan to each of the three—totaling 200,000—right then and there.

Liu Meng remained relatively calm; for her, that amount was just the price of two handbags.

Liu Wenxin, on the other hand, was beaming with excitement. She couldn’t compare to Liu Meng—her monthly salary was only around 10,000 yuan. Not only had this outing cost her nothing, but she’d also earned over half a year’s wages.

She couldn’t stop waving her phone in front of the other girls, showing off her windfall.

Liu Bo looked at Liu Wenxin with a grin and said, "Well, Wenxin, was I awesome or what?"

"You were amazing, Bo! Love you!" Liu Wenxin replied, blowing him a playful kiss from across the room.

Feeling a rush of excitement at her adorable reaction, Liu Bo walked over and chuckled. "Told you teaming up with me was the right move. We crushed them without breaking a sweat."

Liu Wenxin giggled. "You’re seriously the best, Bo. I’ll treat you to dinner sometime!"