The big devil in table tennis

The short break between games is over.

The referee blew the whistle, and the sharp "beep" sound cut through the noisy discussions in the venue.

Lin Hui stood up from the lounge chair, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and his fingertips touched the slightly hot skin.

He took a deep breath, feeling his heartbeat still throbbing in his chest, and walked towards the table.

On the opposite side, his opponent, the chopper famous for his tricky serve, had already stood in front of the table, gently tapping the ping-pong ball with his left hand. The ball bounced on the table, making crisp "tap, tap" sounds.

His eyes were calm and focused, and the corners of his mouth were slightly tense, obviously calculating the next tactics.

The lights in the venue fell on the dark green table, casting two slender shadows.

The noise in the audience gradually died down, and everyone held their breath, waiting for the start of this point.

The game continues and the opponent has the right to serve.

The opponent leaned forward slightly and gently tossed the ball up. The ball hovered briefly in the air, and then "pop!" a sharp white light flashed, and the ping-pong ball, with a strong rotation, headed straight for Lin Hui's half of the table.

Lin Hui's pupils suddenly contracted, and his sight was fixed on the white light that was rushing towards him. The ball drew a strange arc in the air, with strong downward spin and sideways turn, and sank rapidly after landing on the stage.

His muscles tensed instantly and he pushed the ground hard with his right foot, causing the friction between the sole of his shoe and the rubber floor to make a harsh "squeak" sound.

There was a low roar from the audience. The commentator's hurried voice came through the radio: "This serve is of extremely high quality! Let's see how Lin Hui responds."

In a flash, Lin Hui's body reacted instinctively.

He flicked his wrist and the racket hit the bouncing ping-pong ball at a nearly vertical angle.

At the moment of contact, the rubber of the racket rubbed against the ball, making a slight "hiss" sound. His forearm muscles bulged, and with a deft move of his wrist, he turned the originally backspinning ball into a topspin!

The ping-pong ball turned into an orange lightning bolt, brushing against the net and flying towards the other side of the table.

The opponent obviously didn't expect this return and could only barely block the ball in a hurry. Lin Hui's eyes flashed, and he seized the opportunity to dunk. The ball hit the opponent's corner like a cannonball, leaving a clear scratch on the white sideline.

"Good shot!" the referee announced loudly, "1:0!"

Thunderous applause instantly broke out in the stands. Lin Hui exhaled lightly, and then he realized that the team uniform on his back was soaked and stuck to his skin. He subconsciously touched the anti-slip tape wrapped around the handle of the racket, and felt the familiar rough touch on his fingertips.

Lin Hui's breathing gradually slowed down, but his fingertips could still feel the slight vibration caused by the rushing blood.

He bent down and supported his knees with his left hand, and gently placed the racket against his forehead with his right hand. The cool touch of the rubber calmed his heated nerves a little.

On the other side of the table, the opponent was wiping the rubber of the racket with a towel, but his eyes were always fixed on Lin Hui's movements.

“Pah, pah—”

The referee threw a new ball over. Lin Hui raised his hand to catch it, rubbing the slightly raised seam of the ping-pong ball with his fingertips.

This brand new match ball still has a little powder on its surface, giving it a pearly luster under the light.

When he threw the ball to his opponent, a clear child's voice suddenly rang out from a corner of the stands: "Come on, Brother Lin Hui!" This shout was like a stone thrown into still water, instantly triggering waves of cheers.

The opponent's serve paused noticeably, and Lin Hui took the opportunity to adjust his stance, lowering his center of gravity by another two centimeters.

This time the serve had a strange and erratic trajectory, and the ball suddenly fell when it passed the net. Lin Hui had anticipated this, and he took a step forward and gently lifted the ball at a 45-degree angle.

"bass!"

The ping-pong ball jumped high in a rainbow-like arc, and fell rapidly when it was about to go out of bounds, just barely touching the edge of the opponent's table.

The opponent failed to save the ball in time, and the racket scraped against the edge of the table, leaving a silver scratch.

When the electronic scoreboard lit up with 2:0, Lin Hui heard his opponent hit his thigh hard with his racket.

Sweat ran down his jawline, leaving dark marks on the collar of his blue team uniform.

The air-conditioning vents on the top of the venue were buzzing, and the "click" sound of the scoreboard turning pages was delivered to everyone's eardrums.

Lin Hui wiped the sweat from his chin with his sleeve, and suddenly found that the elastic band of his cuff had broken at some point.

This tiny flaw reminded him of what his coach said before the game: "Remember, the real battle is often in the 0.1mm rotation difference."

At this moment, the opponent is rubbing the ground repeatedly with the soles of his shoes, and the friction between rubber and plastic makes a teeth-grinding sound.

When the referee raised his right hand to signal the game to continue, Lin Hui's breathing suddenly became unusually clear.

He felt his eardrums bulging slightly with his strong heartbeat, and the cheers coming from the stadium seemed to be blocked out by the water curtain.

He slowly bent his knees, his spine curved into a perfect bow shape like a compressed spring, and his left hand held the slightly sweaty ping-pong ball with the palm facing upward.

The moment he threw the ball, his calf muscles suddenly tensed up, and his whole body suddenly released like a fully drawn bowstring.

When the ping-pong ball left his fingertips, he deliberately rubbed the bottom of the ball lightly with his thumb. This hidden little action gave the ball additional initial rotational velocity.

When the sphere rises to its highest point, the LED spotlights on the ceiling refract dazzling spots of light on its surface, like a miniature sun hovering in the air.

"It's a reverse rotation!"

The opponent's pupils suddenly contracted the moment the racket touched the ball.

He could clearly see the spiral air pattern on the surface of the ball caused by the intense friction, but it took 0.3 seconds for the nerve signals to be transmitted to the arm muscles. This fatal delay slowed his return by a quarter beat.

The moment the racket touched the ping-pong ball, the friction between the rubber and the ball made a sharp "squeaking" sound, like the cry of some small animal dying.

Lin Hui's saving posture had been deformed, and the anti-slip rubber sole of his right foot tore black rubber marks from the ground when he turned sharply.

The racket barely reached the falling ping-pong ball, but the applied spin caused the ball to stagger twice on the blue net like a drunk.

The sphere had a slight swirl on its first bounce, but it completely lost its kinetic energy on the second bounce and fell back onto the table like a withered leaf.

"Ta-ta."

The opponent's eyes gleamed, and he stepped forward as fast as the wind, striding to the front of the stage.

He jerked his wrist and the racket swung down like a knife.

"Snapped!"

The moment the ping-pong ball touched the rubber, a harsh friction sound broke out, and it turned into a beam of white light and shot straight into Lin Hui's backhand blind spot.

The ball was moving so fast that it almost left an afterimage, making a sharp whistling sound in the air.

Lin Hui's left knee had already brushed against the floor, and he hastily used his right racket to block it.

There was a gasp from the audience, and someone unconsciously crushed the mineral water bottle in his hand.

"when!"

As the metal table continued to shake, the ball strangely bounced high along the sideline.

The referee narrowed his eyes and watched the edge of the ball glow a translucent red under the light, just like the dying color of a close-range ball just before it falls.

The entire venue seemed to have pressed the mute button, even the breathing sound was frozen.

The ping-pong ball hovered at the edge of the table for half a second, and finally "clicked."

Fall gently.

The referee's gesture was crisp and clear: "Brush off, score! 2:0"

The scoreboard flipped, and the audience seats exploded instantly. Some applauded, some sighed, and Lin Hui's opponent clenched his fist and growled, his eyes as sharp as a knife.

Lin Hui slowly stood up, looked down at the cracked rubber on his racket, and suddenly smiled. He raised his hand to wipe the sweat off his face, stood still again, and looked across with burning eyes.

Lin Hui threw the ball high up, and suddenly changed his gesture when it fell to the height of his nose.

The moment the edge of the racket brushed against the ball, taut blue veins appeared in his forearm muscles. This was a reverse sidespin disguised by a fake move of his upper arms. When the ball passed the net, it would fall like a kite that was suddenly grabbed.

But the opponent's racket was already waiting at the corner of the table.

Amid the dull sound of the rubber hitting the ball, Lin Hui suddenly realized that he had made a fatal mistake: the red rubber on the opponent's backhand was not a regular inverted rubber, but a granular long rubber.

The ball, which should have fallen rapidly, was now floating strangely towards the wide-angle gap of his forehand, like a puppet hanging by invisible silk strings.

Lin Hui's body reacted before his brain.

He almost flew sideways, and his racket drew a silver arc in the air, but the ball "floated" strangely at the moment it was about to touch the racket, like a dandelion blown by the wind, and easily avoided his interception.

"laugh!"

The ball hit the edge of the table, bounced twice on the wooden floor, and rolled away.

3:1
The opposing player wins.

The opposing player serves the ball.

Bang! With a crisp sound, the ping-pong ball came like a bullet, hitting Lin Hui's desk heavily, and then bounced up at a tricky angle.

Lin Hui's pupils suddenly contracted, and the veins on his forehead twitched slightly.

His body reacted before he thought. He pushed the ground with his left foot and turned sharply to the right like a cheetah.

The racket left a silver afterimage in the air and blocked his chest at an almost impossible angle.

"Snapped!"

The crisp sound of the ping-pong ball hitting the rubber exploded in the stadium.

This save was entirely dependent on the instantaneous explosive power of the wrist. The ball was barely lifted up, drawing a hasty and twisted arc in the air.

The ping-pong ball with insufficient rotation slows down significantly when passing through the net, and falls helplessly toward the opponent's table like a wounded bird.

The corner of his opponent's mouth curled up into a sneer, and a predator's gleam in his eyes.

He took a half step back, the muscles in his right arm suddenly tensed up, and the racket drew a sharp arc from bottom to top.

With a dull "bang", the ping-pong ball turned into orange lightning and flew straight into Lin Hui's backhand corner with a violent topspin.

Lin Hui's sneakers made a harsh sound as they scraped against the plastic floor.

He stumbled sideways into the dive, his left knee almost scraping the ground, his racket desperately stretched forward.

There was a cry of surprise from the audience, and some people stood up subconsciously. Under the glaring white light from the ceiling lights, tiny beads of sweat could be seen falling from his tense jawline.

Lin Hui's racket just touched the ball at the last moment, but the huge impact force caused his wrist to tremble violently.

The ping-pong ball flew out, brushing the edge of the racket, leaving an out-of-control trajectory, and hit the baffle at the edge of the table hard, making a dull "bang" sound.

The scoreboard turned to 3:2, and the opponent clenched his fist and growled, with great momentum.

Lin Hui slowly stood up, his chest heaving slightly, the strands of hair on his forehead soaked with sweat and stuck to his brow bones.

He took a deep breath, but his eyes became calmer, like the sea surface that briefly froze before a storm.

The coach on the sidelines clenched the tactical board in his hands, thinking: His backhand is still a weakness, the opponent is holding on to it.

The referee signaled for the game to continue.

The opposing player bent down to pick up the ball that had rolled to his feet, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the surface of the ball, and then he suddenly clenched it.

He raised his head, his eyes as sharp as blades, staring straight at Lin Hui.

He threw the ball high up, and at the moment the ball fell, his body was as taut as a fully drawn bowstring.

With a flick of his wrist, the racket slashed the ball at a strange angle, and the ping-pong ball hit the net with a strong side spin, leaving a strange fold line on Lin Hui's table.

Lin Hui obviously did not expect this change of serve, and the angle of the racket face deviated when he hurriedly returned the ball.

The ping-pong ball bounced high like a clumsy sparrow.

The opponent's eyes flashed with brilliance, and he pounced forward like a tiger, swinging his right arm and delivering a powerful smash!

"Snapped!"

The ball hit Lin Hui's table like a meteor.

Lin Hui moved to save the ball.

The air in the stadium seemed to freeze, and the cheers from the audience suddenly fell silent.

When Lin Hui hit the ball, he immediately wiped the sweat from his palms with the hem of his jersey and gently rubbed the rubber of the racket with his fingertips.

He could hear his own pounding heart, echoing in his chest like a war drum.

The opponent stood at the other end of the table with a sinister look in his eyes.

He played the ball deliberately to disrupt Lin Hui. This was his psychological tactic. He would play against Lin Hui's rhythm every time for crucial points.

"Pah, pah, pah"

Every sound was like a heavy hammer hitting Lin Hui's nerves.

When the fifth bounce came up, the opponent suddenly changed the rhythm and sent a quick reverse spin serve straight to Lin Hui's forehand small triangle area!
"It's a hook shot!" the commentator on the sidelines exclaimed.

Lin Hui's pupils suddenly shrank, but his body had already started reflexively.

He determined the direction of rotation in a flash, flipped his wrist deftly, and easily "unloaded" the ball back with the racket face at a nearly vertical angle.

The catch seemed weak and limp, but after it passed the net, it fell rapidly and landed on the opponent's table along the net.

"Tennis ball!" the referee announced loudly.

The opponent was caught off guard and barely managed to pick the ball back.

Lin Hui had already predicted it, took a step forward, and swung his right hand like a whip, "Snap!" With a clean backhand, the ping-pong ball pierced through the opponent's defense like silver lightning.

"4:2 Lin Hui scored a goal."

The whole venue was boiling instantly.

Lin Hui did not celebrate. He took a deep breath, put the racket against his forehead, closed his eyes and calmed his breathing. When he opened his eyes again, there was only a cold light in his eyes.

Before the referee signaled to serve, Lin Hui suddenly did an unexpected move. He stretched out his hand to ask the referee for a timeout and slowly wiped the racket with a towel.

The sudden interruption made the opponent frown and there was a burst of puzzled whispers on the sidelines.

Under the towel, Lin Hui's fingertips quietly adjusted the tightness of the racket handle.

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(End of this chapter)