Peninsula: Aiming for a Grand Slam

Sunday morning.

Doorbell rang.

Chen Jixian got up from the sofa and went to open the door. His aunt was standing in the doorway, with a girl standing to her left.

Shen Xiaoting.

She was tall, a head taller than my aunt. Her hair was tied up, revealing her entire face. Her skin was fair, without foundation, the kind of fair that comes from not being in the sun.

Her neck was long and slender, the lines from behind her ears to her shoulder blades almost like they were drawn. She wore a gray sweatshirt, obscuring her figure, but her posture was graceful and relaxed.

The suitcase stood at my feet.

She stood there quietly, with a natural air of poise.

"Jixian." Auntie entered the room, looked around the house, and then her gaze fell on him.

"Look at yourself! What kind of outfit are you wearing!"

Chen Jixian glanced down at his cotton pajamas, said nothing, and smiled.

The aunt didn't pursue the matter further. She put the bag in the kitchen, and when she came out, she seemed to have just remembered something and turned back.

"This is Xiaoting, a relative from your uncle's side."

Shen Xiaoting nodded.

My aunt didn't introduce anything further.

She turned to Chen Jixian and gave him a few more instructions about water and electricity bills, garbage sorting, and not to bring anyone back.

After saying that, he glanced at Shen Xiaoting.

"Which room do you stay in?"

He pointed to an empty room.

His tone was flat and devoid of warmth.

Shen Xiaoting nodded, and before she could say anything, her aunt had already turned to Chen Jixian.

"There are side dishes in the fridge, don't always eat takeout. Call me if you need anything."

"Auntie, don't worry about me. I'm not a child anymore."

His aunt glanced at him but didn't say anything.

Change shoes.

Shen Xiaoting said, "Take care, Auntie," and her aunt seemed to hum in response, or perhaps she didn't hear her.

The door closed.

There were only two people left in the living room.

Chen Jixian glanced at his cotton pajamas:

"Sorry, I didn't have time to change."

Shen Xiaoting looked at him, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly:

"It's nothing. For a moment, I thought I was back in China; it felt really familiar."

Chen Jixian paused for a moment, pondering before speaking:

"That's just how my aunt is; she treats people she doesn't know well the same way."

Shen Xiaoting glanced at him.

She didn't reply, just nodded, and picked up her suitcase to go into the room. The suitcase was a bit heavy, and when she lifted it, the wheels got stuck. Chen Jixian saw this, went over, helped her lift the suitcase, and placed it at the doorway.

He didn't go in.

"Thank you," she said.

Very formal.

Chen Jixian walked back to the sofa.

"No need to thank me, we're all under the same roof."

Shen Xiaoting glanced at him but didn't say anything. She carried her suitcase inside, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Chen Jixian curled up on the sofa; the goji berry water had gone cold.

About half an hour later, she came out, holding a cup, and walked towards the kitchen.

"There's hot water in the kitchen," Chen Jixian said.

"Hmm." She poured herself a glass of water, but instead of going back to her room, she leaned against the kitchen doorway.

Chen Jixian, making conversation for the sake of it:

"Where are you from?"

"Chengdu" (Rongcheng)

"Chengdu? Do people from your city all ride pandas to school?"

She smiled:

"You need a driver's license to ride a panda, and I haven't passed the test."

Chen Jixian looked at her:

"Then how did you get into school?"

"Walk."

He said "Oh," and they both laughed at the same time. There were just too many jokes about her hometown.

Shen Xiaoting suddenly asked, "By the way, do you usually cook at home? The kitchen looks a little too clean."

I don't usually cook.

Shen Xiaoting glanced at the kitchen, then at him:

"What about lunchtime?"

Chen Jixian thought for a moment:

There's a soup and rice restaurant downstairs.

"Okay. It's on me today, as a way of thanking you for your help." She paused for a moment. "I might need to trouble you again for things that require physical strength in the future."

Chen Jixian looked at her:

"What counts as something that requires physical strength?"

"Can you change the water, move things, or fix things?"

"Won't."

"You can have that box; I'll think of something else."

"Okay, it's still early. Call me when it's time to eat."

Chen Jixian curled up on the sofa.

Shen Xiaoting went back to her room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

He picked up his phone and opened a video website. He first searched for a few ATP match highlights: forehand backhand, backhand crossover, serve placement. He watched them once, then went back to watch them again. His fingers swiped across the screen, occasionally pausing to stare at a particular player's hitting point for a few seconds before continuing.

He is currently injured and unable to train. Apart from drinking goji berry water, he can only improve his flexibility.

More than half an hour.

The match highlights have finished airing.

He paused, seemingly hesitant. Finally, he searched for another name—

Park Joon-hyun.

"ATP847..."

I found a few videos.

2018 Seoul Hope Tournament Round 1. 2017 Busan Challenger Qualifier. 2019, his last training match before retiring. The camera is far away, and the image quality is blurry.

He clicked on the first one.

Coach 847, serve from zone one. He stared at the running figure on the screen, his brow slightly furrowed, his fingers tapping lightly on his knee.

He is measuring.

Measure his habitual serve placement, his backhand movement rhythm, and his fixed racket face angle during forehand rallies.

When moving to the backhand position, does your center of gravity shift slightly to the left?

He went back and looked at it again.

That's right.

It always goes astray.

"Does the shoulder sag before the direction changes?"

Chen Jixian was unaware of how others felt, but to him, the flaw was quite obvious.

The action was interrupted.

There is an "unnecessary pause".

It is located in the [Temperature +1] dominance zone.

The door opened.

Shen Xiaoting came out with a cup to pour water. As she passed the sofa, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, then slowed her pace—

The little boy has disappeared.

He was nestled on the sofa, his phone lying horizontally, the screen's light reflecting off his face. His brows were slightly furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes were fixed on the screen like a sword about to be drawn.

What is he looking at?

What is he saying again?

Shen Xiaoting didn't understand.

But suddenly she felt that this person was very far away from her. He was in another world, and he didn't intend to let anyone else in.

Shen Xiaoting looked away, went into the kitchen, and poured herself a glass of water.

When she came out, he was still in the same position, his eyes were cold, he was muttering to himself, and he was writing in his notebook intermittently.

She didn't look at him again and went back to her room.

Lunchtime is approaching.

Chen Jixian is still studying it. He clicked on the second video, the 2017 Busan Challenge qualifiers.

847, serve from zone two.

He stared at the screen for a while.

Pause and take notes.

I played it again, then paused, and jotted down a few more lines.

The third video is from a 2019 teaching competition. The camera is closer, and Chen Jixian is still doing the same thing—

Play, pause, take notes.

Play, pause, take notes.

The door opened.

Shen Xiaoting came out. She had changed into a white long-sleeved shirt and tied her hair up again.

He was still looking at the screen, not looking up. The muffled sound of a ball hitting a target came from the phone, stopping every now and then, then starting again.

The girl reminded her:

"That's enough, let's go."

Chen Jixian turned off the video and went back to his room to change his clothes.

The two walked to the door, changed their shoes, and went out.

Shen Xiaoting waited for him at the door.

The door lock clicked shut.

Chen Jixian suddenly remembered something and glanced at her.

Do you know the password?

Shen Xiaoting was stunned for a moment:

"……have no idea."

Chen Jixian was taken aback.

Didn't her aunt tell her?

He brought her here, pointed out the room, reminded her about the water and electricity bills, and told her not to bring anyone back—but he didn't even tell her the password.

He took out his phone, typed a few words, and sent them.

"I sent it to you."

"Um."