Three days passed in the blink of an eye, and the world championships arrived on schedule.
Five in the afternoon.
The locker room of the Huaxia men's sprint team echoed with loud shouting.
"Damn it, Qin Hao! There's less than an hour left before the opening ceremony. We've registered his name, so why isn't he here yet?"
Wang Weiyin viciously slammed a pair of sports shoes on the ground, scaring the other team members who hid in the corner.
In their memory, Wang Weiyin was extremely amiable, even if angry, he would only coldly puff out authority.
Such an outburst, smashing things in anger, was a first even for the coach who had known him for years.
"Director Wang, please don't worry. I think Qin Hao must have something urgent. He might show up any moment now."
The sprint coach said timidly.
"Da Mountain! You're still speaking up for that guy!"
Wang Weiyin glared, scaring the coach into retreating a step and choosing to keep his mouth shut.
