Peninsula: Aiming for a Grand Slam

Wednesday morning.

Seoul.

SM practice room.

"Is it fake? Really? No way? Oh my god..." Ningning's mouth formed an "O" shape, and her fingers slid down quickly.

Giselle couldn't help but say, "Can you please stop talking to yourself?"

"No! Lee Dong-hoon has messed up! Someone released a complete lip-reading video. He first cursed people online, using extremely vulgar language, and then Xiao Chen... Chen Jixian wanted to hit someone, but he restrained himself from doing so."

Giselle leaned closer for a look and said casually, "Oh, so J.Chen really was wronged?"

"Yes!" Ningning nodded vigorously. "Look, look, Lee Dong-hoon insulted him online, saying, 'If you throw more money at her, you can break her legs open, right?'... You know who he was talking about, right?"

Giselle nodded.

Ningning had a gleeful look on her face, as if she'd gotten what she deserved: "That's so dirty talk. Now even feminist organizations are getting involved, saying it's a classic case of misogynistic violence."

"Hmm." Giselle took a sip of juice. "So that Japanese guy is alright? He won't be used as a scapegoat anymore?"

Ningning paused for a moment: "You mean Nakamura Shota? He should be alright now, since public opinion has turned around; he's just a joke on Japanese Twitter."

Giselle nodded, then put the juice on the ground and said softly:

"Koreans are really good at acting."

Ningning's smile froze on her face. She looked around and found that there were no outsiders—but she didn't dare to say anything.

If this older sister doesn't say anything, fine.

His opening remarks were even more lethal than Jin Dongtian's.

Gisele didn't look at Ningning.

She simply bent down to pick up the juice and added, "I wasn't talking about you."

She was certainly not talking about Ningning.

Ningning is not Korean either.

She was referring to that group of netizens—who were posting #J.Chen_Out online this morning, and now they're posting #JusticeForJ.Chen.

She was referring to the spectators who shouted "Go Japan!" during the match, but then left the Japanese player to fend for himself afterward.

She was talking about Lee Dong-hoon—he was the one who posted photos pretending to be magnanimous, and he was also the one who deleted the posts after being exposed.

She was referring to Koreans.

And she, Gisele, a Japanese, watched her fellow countrymen being used as pawns by Koreans, then abandoned by them, and now she sees the entire internet apologizing to a Chinese person.

Her fellow villager was scammed twice by Koreans, got nothing, and became a laughing stock.

Ningning could only chuckle sheepishly and blink, "Unnie, would you like some coffee?"

……

Liu Zhimin is still refreshing.

Naver Sports' live stream has ended, and the scoreboard shows 6-0, 6-0.

Ningning went to get water, while Gisele leaned against the sofa armrest and played on her phone.

She should put down her phone.

But she didn't.

Someone created a complete timeline, not by game number, but by the person's emotions.

"Tossing the ball, getting provoked. Taking a step forward, holding back. Going back, tying my shoelaces. I even missed a shot while warming up. And then... Ace! Ace! Ace!"

The most popular comment below reads: "Taking a step forward is instinct; taking a step back is good manners. Kneeling down to tie your shoelaces is locking anger in the cage of reason."

She remembered that phone call.

She scolded him for being impulsive, for showing off, for only causing trouble... and he didn't even utter a word in rebuttal.

Not by default,

I'm out of energy.

The whole world was waiting for him to fall, but he used all his strength to hold on.

And she, at the moment when he needed understanding the most, said that he "didn't carry it well enough."

The other GIF is even more jarring.

He walked back to the baseline, his fingers gripping the racket so tightly they turned white, and the veins on the back of his hand bulged out...

Then he stood still and served.

The caption reads: "The same hands, one minute trembling with anger, the next hitting an Ace!"

She remembered that morning, staring at those hands, remembering the way he touched the ball—long, steady, deadly.

She used to think those hands were beautiful. Now those hands have become a knife, each cut slicing into her body.

He wasn't showing off; he was battling with himself, anger and restraint both gripping that racket.

His fingers clenched so tightly they turned white, his serve was deadly steady!

Another highly-rated comment has been pushed to the top:

"In the same match, some people plan to use underhanded tactics to ruin their opponents, while others only do one thing from beginning to end—let their ace speak for itself! It's not that they don't have anger, but that they turn all their anger into weapons."

Someone also released a video of the post-match handshake.

Full version.

No editing.

Lee Dong-hoon patted his hand with a smile and said, "Good match."

He stood in front of the net, stunned.

It's not a matter of politeness.

I was disgusted and didn't know how to respond.

One comment in the live chat became a hot topic: "Kind people, when hurt, don't feel anger, but confusion."

Liu Zhimin wondered, was she also the one who puzzled him?

She flipped through a few more pages.

Every single one is being settled.

Every single one is justice delayed.

She flipped her phone over, screen down, and placed it on her lap. Ningning returned with a water glass, glanced at her, and asked nothing.

There's another photo that's gone viral online.

She saw it too—

The audience in the stands stood up and applauded him. He hesitated for a while before nodding very slowly and gently.

Like a wounded little animal, it only dared to show half its face in the grass after confirming that the gun had been lowered.

"So, I'm referring to your hunting rifle too?"

……

……

Chen Jixian sat on a bench in the locker room, a towel draped around his neck. His phone screen was still lit, and messages from Wang Hao kept popping up.

"Korean style has reached number one!"

"Everyone is speaking up for you."

"Lee Dong-hoon has also deleted his post!"

"Petitions to withdraw have started appearing under the Blue House banner."

"You fucking pulled off a comeback!"

Chen Jixian smiled.

He typed:

"Is Daddy awesome?"

"roll!"

He leaned against the cabinet and let out a long sigh.

The truth finally came to light.

However, this is only a temporary and cheap sense of guilt; South Korea does not need his forgiveness, nor will he forgive it.

Chen Jixian must make good use of this crucial window of opportunity.

then,

There's some noise outside.

It wasn't the boos from the audience, nor was it an inflatable stick.

It was the sound of footsteps.

The sound of many people's footsteps was mixed with Korean, English, and a few words of Chinese.

Some people were shouting "J.Chen", and some were shouting "Chen Jixian".

The former abusers are now flocking around him, wanting to interview him.

He recalled his earlier hesitation—it took him several seconds to nod in response.

Thinking back to yesterday, I slipped out the back door, and the social media outlets chased me to the entrance of the passage. All I could say was, "It's inconvenient to recount."

Today, he can say it again.

Alternatively, one can feign aloofness and say nothing.

But he didn't want to remain silent any longer.

If you don't occupy the high ground of public opinion, the enemy will seize it. Even if you manage to get ahead, the winds will turn against you.

Then, my phone vibrated again.

A brief message:

"You don't need to swallow it for me anymore."

A stranger's number.

but,

he knows,

is her!

He stared at the words on the screen, took several deep breaths, and then put his phone in his pocket.

I stood up, slung my golf bag over my shoulder, and pushed open the locker room door.

Just like Lee Dong-hoon's smile back then, this is also a ticket to another battlefield.