Friday afternoon, the sun blazed like fire, baking the playground until the surface shimmered with heat. The basketball court was packed wall-to-wall with students, each class waving homemade cheer signs. Shouts clashed in the air:
"Go Lin Chen! Class Three's got this!"
"Come on, Zhao Kai! Crush 'em!"
The atmosphere was so tense it felt ready to explode.
Lin Chen stood at center court in his blue jersey, fingertips rolling the basketball over and over. He glanced down at his knee—the scrape from yesterday's practice still covered with a bandage, itchy under the fabric of his shorts.
Zheng Hao elbowed him lightly, whispering low, "Be careful. Zhao Kai's up to no good. During warm-up I saw him elbow our sub on purpose, then pretend nothing happened."
Lin Chen nodded, eyes flicking to Zhao Kai across the court. The guy in a red jersey stood with hands on hips, smirking at his teammates. When his gaze slid over to Lin Chen, it carried naked provocation.
From the stands, Su Wanqing stood in the very front, holding her hand-painted sign: "Go Lin Chen!" When their eyes met, she waved hard, encouragement brimming in her gaze.
The referee's whistle cut the noise. The ball went up—Zheng Hao leapt, tipping it straight into Lin Chen's hands. He bolted forward. Zhao Kai pressed in instantly, elbow jabbing at his waist, fingers clawing at the ball. Lin Chen swerved sideways, sped up, cut left, and shook him off. A crisp pass to the paint, his teammate jumped, shot—swish!
Cheers exploded from the sidelines. Su Wanqing bounced and shouted, "Awesome! Go Lin Chen!"
Zhao Kai's face darkened. As he passed Lin Chen, he shoulder-checked him hard, muttering through clenched teeth, "Don't get cocky. You'll cry soon enough."
From then on, Zhao Kai's play got dirtier. When Lin Chen drove the ball, Zhao Kai stuck a foot out to trip him. When teammates passed, Zhao Kai swung at Lin Chen's face under the guise of defense. Twice the ref blew the whistle for fouls, but Zhao Kai only sneered, "That was clean defense. You guys too soft?"
By the end of the second quarter, the score was razor-tight—Class Three led by just two. Lin Chen caught a long pass and broke toward the basket. His feet left the ground, ready to shoot—when suddenly a brutal force yanked at his leg.
Zhao Kai had lunged from behind, missing the ball but hooking his foot savagely around Lin Chen's calf.
Bang!
Lin Chen lost balance and slammed to the court, knees first. Agonizing pain shot up his leg. He braced on his arms to rise, but his knee felt sticky. One glance down—his blue shorts were stained dark, blood gushing through the bandage.
"You bastard, Zhao Kai! That was deliberate!" Zheng Hao exploded, shoving Zhao Kai back hard. "Everyone saw it—you tripped him on purpose!"
Zhao Kai stumbled, scowling, trying to bluff. "I just brushed him. Not my fault if he can't stand straight." But his eyes darted, refusing to meet the accusing stares all around. The move had been too obvious—even kids from other classes were pointing and whispering.
"Brushed him? That was dirty as hell!" Zheng Hao's face burned red as he jabbed a finger at Zhao Kai's nose. "You can't stand losing, so you play cheap! If Lin Chen's seriously hurt, I'll make sure you pay for it!"
The crowd erupted:
"Yeah, I saw it clear as day—Zhao Kai tripped him on purpose!"
"So low! Losing the game is one thing, but losing all your honor too?"
"Get the school nurse! He's bleeding bad!"
Through the crush of bodies, Su Wanqing shoved her way to the court, hair mussed, clutching a pink first-aid kit she'd packed that morning—iodine, swabs, bandages, just in case Lin Chen got hurt.
She dropped to her knees at his side. The sight of his bloody leg made her eyes fill instantly. Her voice shook. "Lin Chen, are you okay? Does it hurt? Should we take you to the nurse's office?"
Gritting his teeth, Lin Chen shook his head. "It's nothing. Just a scratch." He tried to push himself up, but his knee buckled and he collapsed back down.
Su Wanqing caught him quickly, opening the kit with trembling fingers. She dipped a swab in iodine and dabbed gently. When the sting hit, Lin Chen winced, brows knitting. She froze, eyes glassy. "I'm sorry. Just hold on—it'll be over soon. Please… don't keep playing, okay? Forget the game. I don't want you hurt anymore."
Looking at her tearful face, Lin Chen's chest tightened with warmth and determination. He covered her hand with his own, voice firm. "I'm fine. The game's not over—we won't quit. Zhao Kai wants me to give up? No way."
Students nearby roared with admiration.
"Lin Chen's incredible! He's bleeding and still thinking of the game!"
"Zhao Kai owes him an apology! Without it, this game's a joke!"
"Apologize! Apologize!" The chant rolled through the stands like a tidal wave.
Zhao Kai's face flushed dark, but he spat back, "Why should I apologize? I didn't do anything wrong!"
The ref stepped in, crouching to check Lin Chen's wound. After questioning several witnesses, he stood tall and declared, "That was a malicious foul. Technical foul—two free throws. Zhao Kai, you're ejected. You're out of this game."
"What?!" Zhao Kai shot up, livid. "That was defense! You're all targeting me!"
But the ref ignored him, signaling to the scorer's table. Left with no choice, Zhao Kai stomped to the bench, seething, as students around him scooted away in disgust.
Meanwhile, Su Wanqing carefully pressed on a fresh bandage. Before she could plead again, Lin Chen hauled himself upright with a teammate's help. He accepted the ball and limped to the free-throw line.
He drew a long breath. The sun lit his sweat-streaked face, but his eyes burned steady.
The first shot—smooth, arcing, swish! The crowd erupted. Su Wanqing jumped, waving her sign high. "Go Lin Chen! You're the best!"
The second shot—nothing but net. The lead widened.
Pain gnawed at his knee, but Lin Chen ran harder, cutting, screening, passing with grit. Twice he nearly fell, but he pushed through. His teammates fought even fiercer, defending like wolves, attacking like lightning.
On the bench, Zhao Kai sat frozen, nails digging bloody crescents into his palms. Every cheer for Lin Chen stabbed like a knife.
Finally, the whistle blew—game over. Class Three won by six.
The court exploded with joy. Students swarmed the players, patting Lin Chen's back, snapping pictures, calling his name. Zheng Hao locked an arm around his neck, shouting, "You're a beast! Free throws while bleeding—you're our hero!"
Breathless but smiling, Lin Chen's eyes sought Su Wanqing in the chaos. She pushed through, pressed an ice-cold water bottle into his hand, eyes anxious. "Your knee—does it still bleed? Promise me you'll re-bandage at home, keep it dry, okay?"
"Yeah. I got it." He nodded, warmth spreading in his chest.
Around them, students muttered loud enough for Zhao Kai to hear:
"Too despicable, playing dirty like that."
"Lin Chen's got both skill and character. Zhao Kai's nothing compared."
"From now on, Lin Chen's our guy. He's the one we'll cheer for."
Zhao Kai couldn't take it. He stood abruptly, head down, and slunk toward the gate. Not a soul stopped him—some even spat as he passed. His fists clenched tight, hatred twisting inside him.
Don't get cocky, Lin Chen. At next week's 1500 meters, you won't be so lucky. Zhou Tao and Chen Hao will smash you into the track. You'll not only lose the race—you'll lose Su Wanqing too. Then we'll see who's laughing.
After the celebration, Lin Chen walked home with Su Wanqing and Zheng Hao.
Su fussed over him nonstop. "No spicy food tonight—it'll inflame your wound. If it still hurts tomorrow, don't go to class. I'll ask for leave for you."
Zheng Hao, fists clenched, cursed. "That bastard Zhao Kai—next time I see him pull crap like that, I'll deck him!"
Listening to them, Lin Chen's heart swelled with gratitude. With their care and support, no trick of Zhao Kai's could break him. Glancing down at the bandage on his knee, he made a silent vow: next time Zhao Kai tried anything, he wouldn't just endure it—he'd make sure Zhao Kai paid the price.
At home, his mom gasped at the sight of his knee, eyes rimmed red. She carefully cleaned the wound again with saline and taped on a fresh bandage. At dinner, she even made bone broth just for him.
Lin Chen sipped it slowly, his mind replaying the game, Su Wanqing's anxious face, and the cheers of his classmates. Strength surged through him. This victory wasn't his alone—it belonged to everyone who stood with him. And he would never let them down.
Meanwhile, Zhao Kai sat in his room, phone pressed to his ear. His voice dripped with malice. "Next week's sports meet. 1500 meters. Zhou Tao, you and Chen Hao do it like we planned. On the final curve, slam into Lin Chen. Chen Hao blocks him so he can't dodge. Make it hard—bad enough he can't even walk off."
On the other end, Zhou Tao quickly agreed. Hanging up, Zhao Kai stared out into the night, lips curling in a cruel smile.
Lin Chen, your fall is coming. Just wait.