Peninsula: Aiming for a Grand Slam

That's enough practice for tonight...

Liu Zhimin really wanted to say that!

but,

Before she uttered those words—

Chen Jixian took two more tennis balls out of his pocket and squatted down to place them at her feet.

Xiao Chen acted very quickly, as if afraid she would change her mind, or as if afraid she would refuse.

After finishing, Chen Jixian stood up, not daring to look at her, and took a step back before returning to his coach's position.

He looked guilty.

Ryu Jimin: "..."

She looked down at the two tennis balls, then looked up at Xiao Chen with a murderous glare.

Chen Jixian dared not look at her.

His neck was covered in red, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

He was nervous.

He knew he was pushing his luck.

He knew it when he took the ball, and he knew it even more after he took it.

Even knowing it, I still did it.

"Greedy child!"

Liu Zhimin was somewhat annoyed.

Even though he'd already touched her for so long, she still dared to pull out two more balls!

The lingering warmth of his palm on her waist, and the dryness in his voice still echoed in her ear.

The boy was filled with a desire to explore her, and he had to put on a brave face under her murderous gaze.

"……continue."

Liu Zhimin picked up the two tennis balls.

She still spoke in a businesslike tone, but a faint blush remained around her ears.

She heard Xiao Chen exhale softly, and then footsteps approached.

Liu Zhimin didn't turn around, but the corners of her mouth curved slightly.

She didn't say anything tonight, but she gave him everything.

……

……

Ningning nestled on the sofa, her phone screen flickering on and off.

She opened Xiao Chen's chat window again, but still received no reply.

Scumbag!

She slammed her phone face down on the sofa, about to hurl another insult.

The door opened.

Liu Zhimin stood in the entryway, her hair slightly disheveled, with a few stray strands sticking to her forehead.

Her face was flushed, burning from her cheeks to her ears, and her lips were redder than usual, as if she had just bitten them.

Ningning was just about to ask, "Why are you only coming back now?"

"Ugh... I'm not clean anymore."

Ningning's expression froze on her face; her first reaction was that blood rushed to her head.

What does it mean to be unclean?

Why is it not clean?

Did we run into some bad people?

All the worst images flashed through her mind, each one making her heart race. Her lips moved, but she couldn't utter a single word.

Then, she saw Liu Zhimin's expression.

That's definitely not the expression of a victim!

Her eyes were slightly unfocused, her pupils were bright, and there was an unyielding curve at the corner of her mouth, exuding a feeling of happiness and languor.

Ningning was almost driven mad with anger!

Her expression shifted instantly from fear to anger. She walked over and lowered her voice: "Did you take any safety precautions?"

Liu Zhimin's face flushed crimson, instantly spreading to her neck: "What nonsense are you talking about! Nothing! Nothing at all!"

She shoved Ningning's shoulder aside and walked into the room, her pace twice as fast as usual.

Ningning followed and grabbed her wrist. The force wasn't great, but it was enough to stop Liu Zhimin.

"Who initiated it?"

"Did you kiss?"

She noticed that Liu Zhimin's lips were unnaturally red, as if she had bitten them, but she preferred to believe another explanation.

Liu Zhimin struggled but couldn't break free.

She suddenly looked up and stared back at Ningning:

Did you tip him off?

Ningning loosened her grip on her wrist slightly:

"...What do you mean by 'tipping off'?"

Liu Zhimin took half a step forward:

"He stayed up late at night, carrying his golf bag, and came out to find me. Did you tell him?"

Ningning leaned back, her back almost hitting the sofa armrest.

"...I didn't say anything! I just told him not to let you overthink things."

Liu Zhimin looked at her.

Ningning felt a little uneasy under that gaze.

"...Did you tell him I was in a bad mood?"

"That's because Unnie was already in a bad mood!"

"What else did you tell him?"

"It's gone!"

Ningning raised her hands in surrender.

But this posture lasted for less than a second.

Ningning has regained the initiative:

"No! Unnie, don't change the subject."

"I'm interrogating you now, Unnie! That blissful, womanly expression on your face wasn't something I tipped off."

Liu Zhimin took half a step back.

Ningning suddenly lowered her head—a small piece of fabric on Liu Zhimin's waist had developed a layer of extremely fine fuzz, which appeared white under the light.

"What happened to this patch on your waist?" Ningning poked the faded fabric with her finger. "You let him touch your waist? The fabric is almost worn out."

Liu Zhimin looked down at her side, where the whitish downy hair reflected the light quietly, more glaring than any explanation.

She gently pushed Ningning's hand away from her waist: "I'm going to take a shower."

The voice was low, and the steps were quick.

Ningning did not chase after her.

She leaned against the sofa armrest, watching Liu Zhimin's figure disappear into the bathroom doorway, and then slowly smiled.

The bathroom faucet was deliberately turned on full blast, seemingly in an attempt to drown out the noise with water.

Ningning picked up her phone and glanced at her chat with Chen Jixian. The last message was from her:

"Chen Jixian, say something!"

She thought for a moment, typed a line of text, then deleted it and put her phone in her pocket.

Forget it, I'll settle the score with this kid next time.

……

……

"Donghyuk, we've run out of wildcards."

"What?!"

Antalya, Turkey.

Go Dong-hyuk got out of bed, and the calculator in his hand fell to the ground.

But he couldn't care less about that!

The agent's voice came through the phone, getting straight to the point without any preamble.

"The organizers changed their minds at the last minute and gave the wildcard to a company called ASA."

"A Chinese kid, Chen Jixian, 18 years old, has never played a professional game, only a youth tournament championship."

Go Dong-hyuk didn't say anything.

He bent down, picked up the calculator, and glanced at the numbers on the screen.

Airfare, accommodation, meals, threading fees...

He repeatedly added and subtracted these numbers, trying every possible way to lower them, but each time he got the same result:

If they fail to qualify for the main competition, this event will result in another net loss.

Everything was going well; the Monastir M15 organizers were going to provide a wildcard entry.

but,

Gone,

It was snatched away by a kid in a youth competition?

The bad news isn't over yet.

The agent continued:

"Not only that, the accommodation subsidies and training venues that were previously agreed upon are also gone."

"They were all given to that Chinese kid. The organizers said resources were limited, and priority was given to players with commercial value."

Go Dong-hyuk listened.

He is 28 years old, ranked 647th in the ATP rankings, and his wrists are stiff when he wakes up in the morning, requiring a long time to warm up before he can grip the racket properly.

His career was eroded by repeated minor injuries.

Wrist tendinitis, minor rotator cuff tear, ankle sprain...

Each time, he couldn't secure enough points to apply for protected rankings. But each time, it made him slower and more exhausted than the last.

He was once in the top 350, but that was several years ago.

Now, he can't even keep an M15 wildcard.

"Commercial value?" Ko Dong-hyuk couldn't help but ask.

"That company has a powerful background; the event organizers can't afford to offend them. Besides, J.Chen is very popular in South Korea and has a huge following... Haven't you been back to South Korea in a long time?"

Go Dong-hyuk emptied the calculator and watched the screen reset to zero.