Chapter 59: Sword, Come! Ball, Come!

"I haven't lost yet!!!"

Qiao Yingzi's persuasion naturally had no effect; instead, it proved counterproductive, eliciting a ferocious roar from Fang Yifan.

You have to hand it to him!

That roar genuinely carried the atmospheric tiger-like growl of old Yan Song flying into a rage in the historical drama *Ming Dynasty in 1566*.

"If you haven't lost, let's keep going!" He Chen tossed the ball back to Fang Yifan.

Repeating the exact same possession turnover, the ball was back in He Chen's hands. This time, He Chen couldn't even be bothered to drag it out; he wanted to end it quickly so as not to delay going back to practice his martial arts.

So he simply pulled up for a jump shot.

Yet this time, Fang Yifan made a move that left everyone utterly dumbfounded. He threw his arms around He Chen's waist, clinging desperately to him and preventing He Chen from leaping, determined to disrupt his jump shot.

Granted, a free throw was simpler than a jump shot.

But after all, He Chen hadn't taken a free throw yet!

What if free throws weren't his forte?

What if He Chen's state was thrown off by his sudden action?

Anything was better than sitting there waiting to die!

However, something even more unimaginable to Fang Yifan and everyone else occurred: even while being held onto, He Chen still jumped up to shoot.

That's right!

Cradling Fang Yifan along with him, He Chen actually managed to execute a pull-up jump shot.

The entire audience let out a simultaneous, collective gasp of disbelief!

*Hiss!*

Terrifying! Absolutely terrifying!

This was a teenage high school boy, after all!

Though not terribly overweight and actually looking somewhat slender, he still stood five-foot-ten and weighed close to one hundred and twenty pounds.

Yet He Chen was able to leap into the air carrying such dead weight—what kind of monstrous strength was this?

Some of the girls who were fond of reading study materials and computer accessories felt their faces flush red once more. One hundred and twenty pounds was already the limit for many girls' body weight, yet to He Chen, it was as light as a feather.

If they were to get intimate, wouldn't every single kind of intimate maneuver be a piece of cake?

Fang Yifan was even more shocked than the rest of them.

He had genuinely been hoisted up into the air by He Chen. If they weren't adversaries, the phrase "Big Boss carrying you to show off and fly" would have been entirely too fitting right at that moment.

Yet when the sound of the basketball swishing cleanly through the net echoed once again, he simply couldn't believe it: "Impossible! How can this be?!"

Not only had He Chen carried him up into flight, but he remained completely unaffected, sinking the shot cleanly as usual. Was this really something a human being could accomplish?

"Little son! You can call me Daddy now!" He Chen pried his hands apart, patted his head, and offered a teasing, half-smiling reminder: "Since this is my first time being a dad and I didn't prepare any gifts, let me teach you a lesson.

In the future, don't hurl basketballs at people, and definitely don't casually challenge others to duels and demand the loser call you daddy!

Now you've got a dad!

Two of them, in fact!

No matter how much of an exemplary, ancient-style filial son you are, you still can't find your mother another son-husband!

Otherwise, you'll really turn into Lu Fengxian~"

"Why a female Fengxian?" someone asked subconsciously.

"Shh!" The person next to them hurriedly raised a finger to signal silence, but the whispered explanation couldn't possibly be concealed from most people.

Who was Lu Fengxian?

A three-surname slave!

And a female Fengxian?

The explanation simply couldn't go any further.

Because everyone cast sideways glances, completely unable to fathom such an interpretation. They looked at the student who gave the explanation as if looking at a total pervert.

Fang Yifan's face flushed crimson. He swung his fist, intending to smash it right into He Chen's face, only to have He Chen counter and immobilize his wrist.

Seeing Fang Yifan completely lose his composure, Qiao Yingzi and the others hurriedly rushed forward to pull him back, begging He Chen to let Fang Yifan off this once.

"I'm going to fight him to the death!" Fang Yifan was held back by the crowd while spewing various harsh threats mixed with sophistry: "I haven't lost yet! What right does he have to insult me?!"

"Little son, you've already lost."

Dropping those words, He Chen turned and walked straight away.

He had enjoyed himself, and naturally it was time to leave once the fun was over. He didn't have the time to watch Fang Yifan throw a tantrum.

"It's only 6:0, I haven't lost! So you have no right to insult me!" Fang Yifan yelled.

"He still has a free throw!" someone reminded.

"Stop making a scene!" Qiao Yingzi and Huang Zhitao successively tried to persuade Fang Yifan.

In their view, this was yet another chance He Chen was giving Fang Yifan to make a choice—much like how he had won against Ji Yangyang previously, yet agreed not to hold Ji Yangyang to the terms of their bet.

As long as Fang Yifan swallowed his pride and conceded right now, he could avoid further humiliation.

When recounting the event afterward, he could even use the excuse that the match hadn't reached 7:0 to deny his bet of calling He Chen daddy.

This was already considerate enough.

For Fang Yifan to make such a fuss now was entirely brainless; it was just repeating Ji Yangyang's tragedy and asking for a beating!

Yet Fang Yifan, young, hot-blooded, and prone to brawling, was in no state to listen to reason at the moment.

Especially knowing that Huang Zhitao didn't object to He Chen getting close to her, and that his childhood sweetheart Qiao Yingzi was even willing to keep her distance from him for He Chen's sake.

Listening to their advice, it all sounded to his ears as if they were praising He Chen while belittling, mocking, and calling him incompetent. He simply couldn't calm down.

Yet, having suffered wave after wave of various fancy beatdowns, he knew he was no match for He Chen. Therefore, his resistance lacked any real physical force; he merely resorted to verbal backlash, stubbornly insisting it was only 6:0 and he hadn't lost!

Anyway, He Chen had already left.

As long as he refused to admit defeat, he hadn't lost!

Right at that moment, an indifferent voice, neither too loud nor too soft, clearly reached everyone's ears: "Bring the ball!"

"Coming!"

Not everyone had been paying attention to the sore loser Fang Yifan; far more people were focused on He Chen departing at the height of his triumph, thinking simply that he was too cool.

Before, it was just his face!

Now, every single action of his was drop-dead gorgeous!

When he called out "Bring the ball!" and reached his hand backward, a tall boy in a basketball jersey standing on the sideline flashed his eyes, immediately responded, and precisely lobbed the basketball in his hand toward He Chen.

Everyone's spirits jerked upward in unison, as if they had just heard the phrase "Sword, come!", sending their hot blood surging as they glued their eyes to He Chen.

They watched as He Chen continued walking toward the school gates without even turning his head. With his hand still extended backward, he effortlessly caught the incoming basketball, and then, with his back turned, lofted a shot.

The entire court suddenly fell into a dead silence.

Everyone tilted their heads back to look at the sky, watching with their own eyes as the basketball traced an arc across the heavens, soaring over the dense sea of heads, spanning the ultra-long distance from one side of the basketball court all the way to the other, and hitting its mark with absolute precision. The sound of a clean swish seemed to echo directly in everyone's hearts, causing a synchronized skipped heartbeat in that exact moment.

What ultra-long three-pointer!

And the bastard threw it blindly with his back turned!

How on earth could that thing possibly go in?!

Even without the bet about calling the winner daddy, Fang Yifan ought to be kneeling on the ground to call him daddy right now.

Too damn domineering!

Too damn miraculous!

"7:0!!!" Wang Yidi was the first to snap out of her dumbfounded daze, shouting out in excitement.

Under normal circumstances, her slack-jawed state would surely have earned her mocking remarks from Fang Yifan about having a big mouth or looking like a carp. But right now, absolutely no one cared to say a word to her.

Because the vast majority of people remained in a state of utter shock.

Even Fang Yifan was no exception.

In Wang Yidi's eyes, that represented the glorious, massive zero of 7:0!

Wang Yidi's cheers and shouts jolted the majority of the crowd back to their senses. Qiao Yingzi and the others also recovered from their shock, casting disgusted and displeased glances at the screeching Wang Yidi.

Because with that reminder, Fang Yifan was no longer able to play dead and slip away.

The match was definitively locked in at 7:0.

Fang Yifan had indisputably and thoroughly lost the game.