A brilliant basketball journey, a dazzling spectacle.

Lin Feng was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"He's laughing," Chen Hao said, then pushed open the door and went inside.

Gao Yuan patted Lin Feng on the shoulder and followed him inside.

Lin Feng stood at the doorway, looking at the closed door.

Coach Li smiled.

He answered a question in tactics class today—about the order of rotations on the weak side. He reviewed his notes last night, and when Coach Li asked him a question in class today, he raised his hand to answer. After he answered, Coach Li said "correct" and then continued the lesson.

He didn't notice that Coach Li smiled.

But Chen Hao noticed it.

Lin Feng pushed open the door and went inside. The motion-activated lights in the corridor turned on, casting an orange glow.

He returned to his dorm, washed up, and lay down on his bed. He took out his notebook and wrote down what he had learned that day. In the scrimmage, he scored 6 points, grabbed 2 rebounds, had 1 assist, and committed 3 turnovers—too many turnovers, especially the one where he was caught out from behind—a basic mistake. He answered the tactical question correctly during the evening's session, and Coach Li seemed satisfied.

After finishing writing, he closed the notebook.

The pager was on the bedside table; there were no new messages. He picked it up, looked at it, and then put it down again.

Cheng Yuxin didn't call today. He didn't call either. It wasn't that he didn't want to call, but he felt that every time he called, the conversations became shorter and shorter, sometimes the silence lasted longer than the words. He didn't know if this was normal.

He turned over and looked at the moonlight outside the window.

The moon is almost full; in a few days it will be the fifteenth. The moonlight is very bright, shining on the curtains, making them appear gleaming white.

He remembered Cheng Yuxin's words—"Have you lost weight?" He had said he didn't know at the time. But when he looked in the mirror while showering today, he realized he had indeed lost weight. His collarbones were more prominent, and his ribs were visible, but the muscle definition in his shoulders and arms was clearer than before. He was thinner, but not in a sickly way; it was the kind of thinness that comes from training.

He didn't know what Cheng Yuxin would say if she saw him like this.

They might say, "You're too thin, eat more."

Perhaps they'll say something else.

He closed his eyes.

On the next bed, Gaoyuan's snoring started again.

Separated by another bed, the sound of Chen Hao turning the pages of a book was soft and rustling.

July 10th, 5:00 AM.

The pager vibrated. Lin Feng opened his eyes and sat up.

Chen Hao wasn't home today. His bed was neatly made, the pillow was on top of the blanket, and his "New Concept English" book wasn't on the bedside table. A little light was seeping through the gap in the curtains; it was still a grayish-blue, not fully bright.

Lin Feng put on his clothes, grabbed the ball, and walked out of the dormitory.

The motion-activated lights in the hallway turned on. I went downstairs and out the main door.

There was no one on the open space next to the basketball court.

Chen Hao is not here.

He stood in the open space, staring at the empty steps, and paused for a moment. Then he squatted down and began to tie his shoelaces. Once the shoelaces were tied, he stood up and started dribbling the ball.

Boom, boom, boom.

Left hand. Five hundred times.

My left hand felt a little better today than yesterday. The ball bounced more steadily, with less deviation. When he slammed the ball to the ground, the force from his wrist was more decisive than before, unlike before when he dragged the ball along.

As he was working, he suddenly thought of a solution—to close his eyes.

He closed his eyes, relying solely on his sense of touch and hearing to feel the ball's bounce. Thump, thump, thump—the ball hit the ground, bounced up, hit his hand, and then bounced back down. The intervals between the sounds became more and more even, and the sensations in his hand became clearer and clearer.

He opened his eyes; the ball was still in his hand, and it hadn't gone astray.