Peninsula: Aiming for a Grand Slam

Game, set and first set, Chen. 6-0.」

(Chen Jixian won the first set, with a score of 6-0.)

Shota Nakamura sat on a lounge chair with a towel over his head, not wanting to be seen.

0-6, barely scored any points throughout the game.

He recalled his suggestion to withdraw from the competition last night, and the more he thought about it, the more he regretted it. He quickly shook his head, thinking that he couldn't think about that now.

He has only one goal.

One game!

"I just need to win one game!"

The second game.

Chen Jixian's serve.

He stood at the baseline and bounced the ball twice on the ground. Boos rose from the stands again—sparser than before, but still present.

Those Koreans who were so crazy in the last game are now looking so relaxed and carefree.

He sneered inwardly:

"You're already tired after just one round of calling out?"

"Did you forget to bring Viagra when you went out?"

He throws the ball.

Flat shot to the outside corner.

Ace.

15-0.

The entire room fell silent for a second.

It wasn't that they were silenced by Aces—in the last game, he sent so many Aces that he never silenced them for more than ten seconds.

This time, many people were looking down at their phones, their expressions shifting unpredictably, and they didn't have time to boo him.

Chen Jixian didn't know what had happened; all he knew was that no one was booing him anymore.

On his second serve, he tapped the ball once, tossed it, and served at the inside corner T point.

Shota Nakamura gritted his teeth and rallied against him for a few rounds, but ultimately used too much force and the ball went out of bounds.

30-0.

Someone else left the stage.

Head down, walking silently down the corridor.

Shota Nakamura simply couldn't catch the next few balls.

1-0.

Switch sides.

The coach came over and handed him the water bottle.

Then, quietly tell Nakamura:

"It's alright, let's keep playing."

Shota Nakamura paused for a moment.

No tactics were mentioned.

No points to note were mentioned.

It can't even be considered encouragement.

What does it mean to say "it's okay"?

Shota Nakamura thought, "I'm in deep trouble today!"

However, he noticed the coach's expression—he wasn't nervous; he seemed relieved.

"What's wrong?"

"Later."

We'll talk about it later.

Shota Nakamura didn't understand what had happened.

But he knew that during those few tens of minutes when he was being crushed, shouted slogans at, and used as cannon fodder, something quietly changed.

……

……

Chen Jixian noticed something was wrong.

Is Nakamura Shota's ball getting softer and softer?

It's not a matter of physical strength.

This is a matter of attitude.

In the previous game, the Japanese player was still desperately trying to get to the net, still using slices to force him to make mistakes, and still gritting his teeth and gripping the racket again after losing points.

Now, he acts all businesslike, as if passing the online verification is a success. He's like a middle-aged man who's forbidden from drinking during the New Year but still has to work overtime for free.

Chen Jixian received a weak forehand cross-court shot, then pushed the ball back with his backhand, landing it on the baseline.

Shota Nakamura anticipated the shot, but his positioning wasn't fast enough, and he watched the tennis ball score.

Chen Jixian was puzzled:

"What's wrong with this person?"

"They've given up the match?"

"Aren't you afraid of being stripped of your citizenship if you go back?"

This match has lost its original flavor.

The hero who challenged the Demon King suddenly found himself waiting to get off work, not only neglecting his tasks but also frequently checking the time.

Chen Jixian didn't care.

He just does his own job well.

He tossed the ball up, outside ace, then inside ace. Forehand crosscourt, then backhand down the line.

Shota Nakamura, like a leaf ruffled by the wind, showed not a trace of negative emotion on his face.

"Is he a saint?"

On the final point, Nakamura Shota serves. He tosses the ball and hits it flat to the inside corner. Chen Jixian moves one step to the side and uses his forehand to push the ball away.

The ball passes through the opponent's path.

Nakamura didn't pursue it either.

competition is over.

It's still the same old buddy.

6-0

6-0.

Chen Jixian stood at the baseline, wiping away sweat. He put his racket in his bag and walked towards the net.

"Why did you come to compete in this kind of competition?" Nakamura Shota asked.

Surprisingly, he seemed to be in good spirits.

Chen Jixian paused for a moment: "Save money, and when we have enough, we'll go out and compete."

Their hands clasped together. Nakamura Shota's hands were cold, as if they had just been pulled out of the water.

Chen Jixian turned around, ready to shake hands with the referee. Of course, he was bound to face a complaint!

suddenly,

He heard applause.

It wasn't a booing.

It's not a whistle.

It's not an inflatable stick.

It's applause!

Chen Jixian looked up blankly at the audience.

There aren't many people left.

But those who were still alive all stood up and applauded him.

Sparse and disorderly.

But they were indeed clapping.

He stood there, not responding—the group booed him for the entire game, plus several more, even when his voice was about to crack, as if his voice was rented.

He wasn't sure if the applause was genuine, or if it was yet another trap that hadn't even begun.

However, he noticed the faces in the stands—some nodded at him, some had red eyes, and some put down their phones and clapped with both hands.

It's not a trap.

It's not a prank.

We really applauded him.

Why?

He stopped what he was doing, hesitated for a moment, and then nodded very slowly and gently—like a wild animal that only dared to show half its face from the grass after confirming that the gun had been lowered.

He doesn't need to be forgiven.

They also haven't learned to forgive.

……

……

Ye Haoran leaned back in his chair and placed his phone on the table.

The screen was still lit.

The administrator of Irene's fan site sent me a message: "The video has surpassed one million views."

The video is titled: "J.Chen Full Video: The Truth Hidden by Editing."

The video has surpassed 100 million views, and a flame emoji is displayed next to the title. The comment section refreshes even faster than the live chat.

Han Qu First: #JusticeForJ.Chen (Give him justice)

Han Qu Second: #J.Chen_Out

Han Qu Third: #Lee Dong-hoon_Hypocrite

Ye Haoran shook his head as he watched:

"These people told him to get out of South Korea this morning, and now they're demanding justice for him—human guilt is truly the cheapest form of justice in the world."

Not only that.

If it weren't for Bae Joo-hyun being involved, if it weren't for Irene's huge fan base, and his handsome face...

Chen Jixian should just keep suffering his injustice.

right now,

Lee Dong-hoon deleted his social media posts; he was so criticized that he couldn't hold his head up high.

Under the petition to the Blue House, some people started typing "withdraw petition".

He looked at the ceiling and let out a long sigh—he was finally free from staring at the screen.

He hasn't slept more than a few hours since last night, and he even got stuck on a verification question on a fan site, almost smashing his keyboard in the process.

My phone vibrated again.

This is not a fan site.

It was the girl who helped him answer the questions.

"Are you free this weekend? I'd like to treat you to dinner to celebrate saving the world."

Ye Haoran stared at these lines of text, his Adam's apple bobbing.

He had just felt pretty cool, having single-handedly blown up the Korean internet. But now, he was a little hesitant to reply to this message.

It's not that I dislike her.

She answered his fan site verification seven times, laughing and scolding him for being crazy, but he thought she was pretty good.

But who is he?

Ye Haoran,

Former Filippo

An active tennis enthusiast and an amateur detective.

Before, he was led astray by his friends from the North Side, and nobody dared to ask him out. Now, after he took off his FILA clothes, girls are actually asking him out to dinner?

He hesitated for a long time before typing: "I'll treat you, but please don't test my hair dye color again."

After sending the message.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

This has caused quite a stir today. I wonder if the guys from the North will come looking for him again.

but,

He found himself not really caring anymore.

……

When Nakamura Shota returned to the locker room, the coach was already waiting for him at the door.

Did you see that?

"I saw it."

He's become famous back home too: [Koreans paid Japanese players to beat up Chinese players, and the result was a 0-6 score.]

A highly-rated comment below reads: "The Koreans thought they had found a savior, but it turns out he's just a scapegoat."

Shota Nakamura's lips twitched.

He once thought he would be scolded for "disgracing Japan" and then bear the burden of national shame.

Unexpectedly, I became a joke.

It's better than being scolded.

He turned off his phone, covered his face with a towel, leaned back, and closed his eyes to recall what had happened on the field.

"We lost a match we were destined to lose, we were used as pawns by the Koreans, and then we were abandoned by them."

But he didn't withdraw from the competition; he finished the match and didn't have to commit seppuku.

at least,

"It's alright now."

"Keep fighting."