Table tennis: Swinging the racket billions of times, achieving a grand slam

Chapter 357 Men's Singles Semifinals! Lin Shidong: I suspect I've been set up?
Before the afterglow of winning the men's doubles title had faded, Chen Jin had already returned to the training hall.

Just as Xie Mingyang said, tonight's singles semi-final is the real highlight.

He walked alone into the somewhat empty training hall, carrying a backpack.

The sound of the shoe soles rubbing against the rubber floor was exceptionally clear, yet it broke quietly underfoot.

I walked slowly to the corner and randomly picked a pool table.

I put down my backpack and took out my racket cover.

Gently wiping the rubber, the familiar touch came through his fingertips, his eyes focused as if he were disassembling a complex and precise weapon.

Jogging and stretching.

Leg presses, squats.

Chen Jin, holding a racket, stood on one side of the table, repeating the sliding step and swinging motion.

Even without an opponent or a ball, he remained fully focused on every swing and every footwork adjustment.

The body's muscle memory is constantly being awakened and calibrated, engaging in a silent dialogue with an invisible adversary.

In this soothing warm-up rhythm, one seeks a sense of absolute control.

It's exactly five o'clock.

The training hall door was pushed open.

A tall, upright figure walked in.

"So early?"

Lin Shidong was stunned when he saw Chen Jin from afar.

"Fortunately."

Chen Jin stopped what he was doing, adjusted his breathing, and smiled slightly, "I was only half an hour earlier than you."

Hear the words.

Suddenly, a sense of shame welled up deep in Lin Shidong's heart.

Your opponent is clearly so strong, yet they're even more hardworking than you...

"one person?"

Lin Shidong placed his backpack on the ground.

"Ah."

Chen Jin nodded. "Xie Mingyang and Zhang Jiahao are both resting at the hotel."

In fact, Xie and Zhang wanted to come to the training hall to be his sparring partners, but he refused.

He originally thought that Lin Shidong would arrive at the training hall early, just like him.

Unexpectedly, the latter was so punctual.

Jogging, squats.

Leg presses and stretches.

Lin Shidong quickly warmed up, picked up his racket, breathed on it, and walked over to Chen Jin.

"Snapped!"

"Snapped!"

"Snapped!"

……

Close-to-the-table forehand attacks.

The rapid yet crisp sound of the ball hitting the shuttlecock echoed throughout the vast training hall.

"I suspect I've been set up."

Lin Shidong suddenly said.

"what?"

Chen Jin was slightly taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"If I haven't been set up, why do I keep running into you in my recent matches?"

Lin Shidong sighed, "Every crucial hurdle I encounter, I can't get around you."

"Finally, you understand Lin Yun-ru's pain?"

Chen Jin smiled.

"Next time you run into Lin Yunru, ask him whether it's more painful to be with me or to be with you."

Lin Shidong's mouth was full of bitterness.

Chen Jin smiled but did not respond.

"However, it's been a while since we've fought."

Lin Shidong suddenly changed the subject, "My sword has been honed to a sharper edge."

His eyes suddenly lit up, as if two sparks had suddenly jumped up from the silent ashes and shot straight at Chen Jin.

The lockdown in Hainan is no joke.

Chen Jin clearly remembers that during the closed training, Lin Shidong was like a man possessed, honing his already fierce backhand tearing technique over and over again.

Moreover, the targeted training tailored for him by the coaching team, including seemingly tedious footwork and landing control, all seemed to be integrated into his straight spine and burning gaze at this moment.

That accumulated improvement has transformed into his confidence when facing Chen Jin.

"is it?"

Chen Jin looked up and met Lin Shidong's gaze.

His eyes, as black as the universe, revealed a calm composure that remained unfazed even if the sky were to fall, and an unwavering confidence that could kill anyone who stood in his way.

Every word he uttered was clear and resonant, like the clang of metal and stone: "My sword is never dull."

No unnecessary nonsense.

Their eyes met briefly in mid-air.

Invisible sparks flew everywhere.

Followed by.

The combat training has entered a heated phase.

The ball was moving at an astonishing speed; a white streak flashed past both ends of the table.

The sound of the ball hitting the shuttlecock was as dense as a sudden downpour.

It must be said that Lin Shidong's forehand attack is indeed much more fierce than it was before the closed training last year.

However, Chen Jin's forehand is equally impressive.

Every intense rally, every breather after a desperate save, every exchange of glances after a point or a mistake—all carried a strange frankness.

Although they are opponents, they are also teammates, exchanging skills and knowledge without reservation.

Time flew by amidst the selfless battle.

The digital clock on the wall silently ticked to 5:50.

Just then.

Staff members appeared and reminded the two to go backstage and prepare to wait.

"Whoo~"

The two stopped almost simultaneously, slightly out of breath.

Sweat dripped down his hair.

Their eyes met again.

"come on!"

Chen Jin extended his palm.

"come on!"

Lin Shidong gave him a light high five.

Waiting area.

The two remained silent and did not exchange any further words.

Allow your body to recover slightly from the high-intensity competitive training.

This also allows each person's spirit to be adjusted to its best state.

They were oblivious to any external noises.

six o'clock.

The game is about to begin.

Lin Shidong took the stage first, accompanied by the host's enthusiastic introduction.

All of a sudden.

A deafening roar, like a mountain collapsing and a tsunami crashing down.

"Lin Shidong, keep it up!"

The enormous sound wave, like a giant hammer, slammed down on Lin Shidong.

Lin Shidong was caught off guard and was startled.

"what's the situation?"

Lin Shidong was stunned and looked completely bewildered. "When did I get so many fans?"

Looking up, I suddenly realized what was going on.

Under the bright stadium lights, the stadium was packed with people.

Everywhere you look, large areas of the stands are occupied by uniform support banners and light sticks.

Lin Shidong lowered his head, a bitter smile appearing on his lips, and quickly walked towards his rest area on the sidelines.

immediately.

Chen Jin makes his appearance.

The noise immediately subsided.

There was even a few scattered hisses, not loud but clearly audible.

"Damn it, you banana, you bowlegged bastard!"

In the back corner of the stands, Zhang Jiahao suddenly punched his thigh, furious. "What the hell is going on?"

"Do you consider my brother Jin to be an outsider?"

Apart from him, Xie Mingyang and Li Qian, who were sitting next to him, were both very calm.

"Calm down, don't get agitated."

Li Qian's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a clarity that cut through the noise, "Who told Giegie's fans to have money?"

"People buy tickets to watch the game and have the right to cheer for the players they support."

"This is their freedom, and it's also their strength."

He understood the logic, but Zhang Jiahao still harbored a deep resentment.

He could no longer contain himself. He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and roared with all his might, as if his vocal cords were about to tear apart.

"Brother Jin—"

"come on!"

That shout carried all his bloodlust and anger.

It was undeniably a resounding success.

However, it was only for a moment.

Like a pebble thrown into a vast ocean, it didn't even create a decent ripple.

The next second, he was completely overwhelmed and swallowed up by the overwhelming and well-organized chants of "Lin Shidong, keep going!" and disappeared without a trace.

"Fuck!"

Zhang Jiahao cleared his throat and glared at Xie Mingyang. "Hey Xie, what are you doing sitting there? Shout with me!"

"Save your energy."

Xie Mingyang remained indifferent and calm, saying, "Contestants aren't Ultraman; no matter how many fans they have, they can't benefit from it."

"On the field, the air conditioning has a greater impact than the fans."

"These noises are just a backdrop."

……

at the same time.

Several top Chinese table tennis players, including Liu Guoliang, Qin Zhijian, Li Xun, and Wang Hao, sat together, all watching the men's singles semi-final match unfold before them.

"How many times has Lin Shidong sparred with Chen Jin?" Liu Guoliang crossed his arms. "I think it's been quite a few times."

"Correct."

Wang Hao nodded, "It seems like it was three times."

"That poor kid."

Qin Zhijian laughed.

"It can't be called bad luck."

Li Xun said, "Being able to reach this position time and time again and meet with Chen Jin shows that Lin Shidong's strength is indeed outstanding among the new generation."

"If it weren't for Chen Jin, Lin Shidong might have achieved even greater things."

Originally, according to the coaching staff's plan, Lin Shidong was positioned to succeed Ma Long.

But now, Chen Jin has emerged out of nowhere and replaced Lin Shidong.

With Wang Chuqin above him and Chen Jin below him, Lin Shidong was caught in the middle, making his situation particularly awkward.

more importantly.

So far, Lin Shidong's win rate against foreign partners has been somewhat low.

Lin Shidong is a fine sword, with excellent potential and a sharp edge.

But a good sword needs to be forged through countless trials and tribulations, and needs real hard battles to hone its resilience and wisdom in the arena.

After all, he was too young.

During a special period when talent development is under pressure and there is a shortage of young talent, he was promoted exceptionally.

With more attention and expectations comes greater pressure.

There is no off-field guidance in civil war.

Stripping away all support and placing the contestants on an isolated island tests their ability to solve problems and find a way out in dire circumstances.

The rest area on the sidelines.

Lin Shidong bent down and tightened his shoelaces again.

The roar of cheers, like a tsunami, repeatedly assaulted his eardrums and nerves.

Every cheer sounded so insincere.

To him, it sounded more like a heavy shackle.

The corners of his mouth twitched uncontrollably.

The bitterness intensified.

He knew that if he lost this match, the frantic shouts he was hearing now would instantly engulf him with a hundred times more malice and ferocity.

"Whoo~"

Lin Shidong let out a long breath.

He stood up and straightened his jersey.

Across the central table, I gazed at that familiar figure on the other side.

The sword is drawn; only battle remains!
It's not for others, but for myself; I'm willing to do anything, even if it means cutting off my own arm.

Toss a coin to guess who will go first.

Lin Shidong has the right to serve.

After several encounters, they had become familiar with each other.

In the first game, there was less cautious probing.

Side down.

The forehand is short.

However, Lin Shidong's serve seemed a bit stiff.

The explosive power of the wrist has not yet been fully released.

The rotation is slightly weak, and the arc is too high.

With his exceptional eyesight, Chen Jin had already noticed this subtle movement.

With a sudden push of his feet, he leaped into the air.

Simultaneously.

The power of the wrist bursts forth.

"Snapped!"

The sound of the ball hitting the ground was like a sharp sword, piercing the eardrums.

Before Lin Shidong could react...

The ping-pong ball hurtled towards Lin Shidong's position like a meteorite.

too fast!
Lin Shidong didn't even have time to start moving before the ball flew in front of him.

In a hurry, he tried to block.

But it blocked nothing.

0: 1.

Chen Jin took the lead with a swift, accurate, and powerful flying throw, scoring the first point.

Lin Shidong glanced down at his racket, his brows furrowed, and he shook his head, pursing his lips.

The player made a mistake on the opening serve.

It felt as cold as if it had just been taken out of the freezer.

"Hehehe~"

Lin Shidong shuffled around, jumped a few times on the spot, and made noises to relieve his inner tension.

However, the poor start and cold touch spread like a plague.

Second serve.

A fatal mistake occurred: the net was dropped.

Not only Lin Shidong himself, but even Chen Jin couldn't help but frown.

"Is the pressure really that high?"

Wang Hao, who witnessed this scene from the audience, also had a somewhat gloomy expression.

Given Chen Jin's strength and current condition, Lin Shidong's chances of winning this match are even lower than the chances of no one dying when Conan appears.

However, we can at least give it a shot.

But to his surprise, the first two serves left Wang Hao speechless.

Next game.

Lin Shidong continued to make frequent mistakes.

His backhand smash was originally his weapon for breaking through the opponent's defense.

But now, it looks like it's rusted.

Either go offline or cross the line.

Even when it occasionally goes on stage, the landing point of the line lacks a fatal threat.

Chen Jin easily returned to defense, creating an open space.

His steps, too, had lost the agility and nimbleness he displayed during training, appearing somewhat heavy and hesitant.

4: 11.

The score is now set for the first game.

Cold and glaring.

Lin Shidong walked back to the sidelines, grabbed a towel, and vigorously wiped his face.

It was as if they wanted to wipe away the cold feel and the terrible condition.

Sweat soaked the towel, and also the deep resentment in his eyes.

"Lin Shidong, keep it up!"

"Hold on, Lin Shidong!"

"Lin Shidong, don't rush, find your rhythm again."

The cheers from the fans at the scene were deafening.

A short one-minute break between sets.

Lin Shidong tilted his head back and gulped down several mouthfuls of water, then closed his eyes, his chest heaving violently.

When I opened my eyes again, the frustration and confusion were forcibly suppressed.

Instead, there was an almost ruthless calmness.

The second round begins.

Lin Shidong's eyes changed.

Sharp, focused, like a tempered blade.

They proactively improved the quality of their attacks and the intensity of their fights.

The serves are more varied, with more spin, and the landing points are more tricky.

During the stalemate, he stopped blindly exerting force and instead consciously controlled the pace, patiently looking for opportunities.

0: 3.

He finally got his chance.

Chen Jin flicked the ball with his backhand, aiming straight for Lin Shidong's center line slightly to the left.

The ball has a high speed and strong spin.

But this time, Lin Shidong seemed to have anticipated it.

The body's center of gravity instantly shifted, the left foot firmly planted, and the right foot swiftly took half a step backward and to the side.

His entire body was like a fully drawn bow.

Power rises from the ground.

The energy travels from the soles of the feet to the twisting waist and hips, and then flows into the right arm holding the racket.

His wrist trembled violently, like the tip of a whip.

"Snapped!"

The ping-pong ball transformed into a white afterimage that was almost impossible to catch with the naked eye. With terrifying speed and a strong side spin, it flew towards Chen Jin's backhand like a precise bolt of lightning.

boom!
The ball hit the table, carrying an astonishing forward force, and bounced away instantly.

Chen Jin originally wanted to retaliate.

However, the restoration was a bit slow and failed to match the points.

3: 1.

Lin Shidong finally pulled one back.

Clench your fist and swing it downwards with a sudden force.

"Choo-hoo!"

He let out a long-suppressed growl.

This point seemed to ignite a flame in his eyes.

At the same time, an even more enthusiastic cheer erupted from the stands: "Wow—"

"Lin Shidong, keep it up!"

Now let's look at Chen Jin.

His eyes remained completely still, as calm as a lake in late autumn.

On his next two serves, Chen Jin continued to press Lin Shidong's backhand.

Unexpectedly, Lin Shidong decisively took action.

An unstoppable backhand smash brought the score to 3-3.

The fans at the scene became even more frenzied.

It was as if they saw hope for sniping in Lin Shidong.

Chen Jin gently put down his racket, walked to the referee's table, picked up a towel from the basket, and wiped his sweat.

"Has your backhand feel picked up yet?"

Chen Jin glanced quickly at Lin Shidong, and the next tactical approach had already surfaced in his mind. "This time, I won't be stubborn."

(End of this chapter)