The impromptu campus match employed a format of two ten-minute halves, primarily because there were few substitute players, allowing everyone to maintain better stamina over the full twenty minutes.

Five minutes into the game, both sides had made their plays. Wang Zhuo quietly managed three assists and snagged six rebounds—stats that any seasoned basketball follower would recognize as All-Star caliber. The girls in the stands, however, didn't grasp the nuances; they only knew that after sinking one three-pointer, Wang Zhuo hadn't scored again. Not pulling his weight!

So, someone stepped up, clapping rhythmically, rallying the red-clad cheering squad to boost Wang Zhuo's morale.

"Coach Wang! Go, Coach Wang! Go!"

Wang Zhuo remained outwardly placid. A celebrity, he knew, had to cultivate a spirit untouched by praise or scorn. But his opponents and teammates were far less composed, especially the opposing small forward guarding him, who was employing a suffocating, close-contact defense, determined to stifle his game—perhaps fueled by envy.

He threaded another assist to the center for a quick score. The applause was sparse. During the transition back on defense, Geng Bin, the center who had just scored two points, sidled up to Wang Zhuo and muttered, "Wang Zhuo, give them some fireworks! So many beautiful girls are waiting to cheer for you."

Wang Zhuo managed a wry smile. "Am I obligated to satisfy them?"

"Well, no," Geng Bin shook his head, thoroughly exasperated. "But don't you think a man who disappoints so many lovely women looks weak? Especially this many?"

Wang Zhuo considered his words. There was a strange logic to it. He glanced toward the stands: thirty or forty people, most possessing only average looks, but there were certainly a few genuine beauties among them. They had come enthusiastically; it wouldn't do to let them leave disappointed.

If only for the sake of those few beautiful faces, he couldn't let this game drift into mediocrity.

The decision was barely made when the opportunity arose. The Power Forward from the Pharmacy team maneuvered past the temporary captain of the Clinical team and drove straight toward the paint. Geng Bin, at just over 1.80 meters, lacked the height for true dominance and relied purely on positioning, meaning this opponent could play recklessly near the basket.

The Power Forward launched himself with a three-step gather, executing a fluid, seamless hook shot.

His feet hadn't yet landed when a deafening roar erupted from the stands. The Power Forward, bewildered, looked back upon landing. Wang Zhuo had landed precisely in the empty space behind him. The ball hadn't hit the net; instead, it was soaring far back toward the opposite end of the court.

Wang Zhuo had emphatically blocked it, sending it flying off the backboard!

The cheers were for Coach Wang. Not for him.

"Defense! Get back on defense!"

The guard's shout came too late. Wang Zhuo’s teammates executed a quick two-on-one break, scoring an easy two points.

Though Wang Zhuo still hadn't scored, the cheering squad’s passion was fully ignited. On a basketball court, nothing excites a crowd more than a spectacular block, second only to a dunk. Seeing Coach Wang descend like a massive eagle and swat away an opponent's seemingly guaranteed score sent the girls from the Nursing College into absolute ecstasy.

Having just suffered a massive block, Han Yuanzheng, the Power Forward, felt his face burn with shame. At 1.90 meters, he had been a star on his high school team. In college, where general athleticism was lower, this was his first time being rejected so thoroughly, and to serve as the backdrop for a star player's highlight reel...

"Shu Can, switch!" the Power Forward barked, swapping positions with the Small Forward to take on Wang Zhuo directly.

Shu Can had been playing "catfish defense" on Wang Zhuo for a while. Although Wang Zhuo hadn't scored, his stats were mounting rapidly, and Shu Can hadn't managed to score a single point against him. Seeing the Power Forward motion to switch, Shu Can readily agreed.

Once the switch was made, all ten players on the court focused with heightened intensity. Someone was challenging someone else; the game was about to get interesting.

Whoosh. The Point Guard didn't hesitate, immediately feeding the ball to Han Yuanzheng, ordering him to drive hard against Wang Zhuo to avenge the earlier block.

Han Yuanzheng wasted no time. Receiving the ball, he used a deceptive pump fake twice before rising straight up, releasing the ball in a textbook form worthy of inscription.

Thud!

The basketball was swatted away high into the air by the soaring Wang Zhuo. Han Yuanzheng’s fake might have fooled anyone else on the court, but it couldn't deceive Wang Zhuo, who could anticipate movement based on subtle muscle tension.

Han Yuanzheng had intended to immediately rebound the ball after blocking Wang Zhuo, hoping to trick him into a mistake, but instead, he had hoisted himself by his own bootstraps. In under half a minute, he had suffered his second rejection!

The noise from the court and the stands was thunderous.

The Pharmacy team’s Point Guard immediately sprinted toward the ball heading out of bounds but was outpaced by the Clinical team’s guard, who was half a step ahead. Then, another figure cut from behind, covering the distance in just a few long strides, leaping up to snatch the soaring ball.

It was Wang Zhuo, who had rapidly transitioned from blocking to offense.

"Coach Wang, go!"

As his feet hit the ground, Wang Zhuo shifted sideways to the right, as if possessing eyes in the back of his head, causing the attacking Han Yuanzheng to lunge and miss entirely. Han Yuanzheng stopped his momentum and spun around just as Wang Zhuo retreated behind the three-point line, lightly jumping, and releasing the ball.

Han Yuanzheng jumped with every ounce of strength he possessed, but he didn't even graze the ball. As he landed, he saw the perfect, swishing image of the ball dropping through the net.

"Coach Wang is mighty! Coach Wang, go!"

Two consecutive blocks followed by a three-pointer sent the cheering squad into an unprecedented frenzy. One beautiful girl even put her fingers in her mouth and blew a piercing whistle.

Geng Bin jogged over to Wang Zhuo and winked pointedly: "Hey, that girl's mouth-work is quite impressive."

Wang Zhuo, feeling energized, waved casually toward the stands, causing the shouts to increase by several decibels and forcing him to squint against the flashes of cell phone cameras.

In the ensuing confusion, the Pharmacy team seized the opportunity for a fast break. Small Forward Shu Can made a jump shot, earning two points. The cheering squad immediately erupted, accusing the Pharmacy team of playing dirty by attacking while the fans were distracted.

The boys on and off the court were speechless; it was pure sophistry. Who ever said you couldn't run a fast break in basketball? It was clear this had become Wang Zhuo’s personal domain. Today was not going well for the Pharmacy team.

The Clinical team advanced the ball again. The Point Guard intentionally played facilitator, passing the ball along the floor to Wang Zhuo just outside the three-point arc as soon as they crossed half-court.

Wang Zhuo spotted an opportunity and passed it inside to Geng Bin, but the center immediately passed it back. This exchange—one pass out and one pass back—drew Han Yuanzheng, who had been trying to rotate back into help defense, directly towards Wang Zhuo, leaving him a generous two-step gap.

It should be noted that Wang Zhuo already possessed good physical conditioning, and since striking it rich, his nutrition had been comprehensively upgraded, causing him to gain some height, recovering the ground lost during past periods of insufficient sustenance.

Summer and autumn were prime seasons for growth. Although Wang Zhuo hadn't measured recently, he was certainly over 1.80 meters now. With this much space, at his former height, Han Yuanzheng might have been able to recover quickly enough to contest his shot. But now, all Han Yuanzheng could do was leap into the air and watch the ball sail over his head, offering minimal interference.

Swish. Another perfect swish. Geng Bin, earning his first assist, rushed out of the paint and slapped hands powerfully with Wang Zhuo. Even the other boys waiting on the sidelines clapped. This play, involving perfect teamwork and precise shooting, would have easily made the top ten highlights reel even in the NBA.

Han Yuanzheng felt a profound sense of helplessness. In just over two minutes, Wang Zhuo had scored two three-pointers and earned two blocks against him. Even in a casual scrimmage, this was humiliating enough.

Moreover, he was nearly ten centimeters taller than Wang Zhuo, and with so many girls from other schools cheering him on from the sidelines, Han Yuanzheng had been completely relegated to a background character. His dignity had flown right out of the school gates.

"Give me the ball!"

He essentially roared the command at the Point Guard. If he didn't recover some ground against Wang Zhuo right now, he would be utterly disgraced for the day.

The Point Guard understood his predicament. Although the demand was impolite, he passed the ball over.

Seeing that his opponent was on the verge of cracking, Wang Zhuo showed poor competitive spirit and eased up. It was just a temporary small contest; why take it so seriously? Everyone deserved to keep some face.

This time, Han Yuanzheng didn't dare to be arrogant. In fact, after being rejected twice in a row, he was genuinely intimidated. He used a fake crossover, feigned a layup, then dribbled past Wang Zhuo and scored.

Sparse applause rippled from the sidelines—not for the skill of the shot, but mostly in encouragement for Han Yuanzheng, as this was effectively his solo away game.

"Coach Wang, go! Return the favor!"

"Return the favor! Return the favor!"

Amidst the roaring cheers of the squad, Wang Zhuo lived up to expectations, using Geng Bin's screening to shake off Han Yuanzheng's defense and nail another three-pointer.

Beep. The whistle blew just as the first ten minutes concluded. The Clinical team held a commanding lead of thirty to eighteen points, with Wang Zhuo deserving the lion's share of the credit.

The sidelines erupted in cheers for a few seconds, then fell suddenly silent. Then, one girl cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted toward the court: "Coach Wang, you're slacking! We want **!"

After shouting, she turned, made a rhythmic gesture with her small fists—one, two, three—and led the girls in a synchronized chant: "We want **!"

The entire court and surrounding area gasped. The word for 'color' in Chinese uses a flat tongue sound, whereas the word for 'shoot' uses a curled tongue sound; these women certainly weren't confused. Had they gone too far?

In some regions across the country, shooting is called she lan, derived from the term for kicking in soccer. In this context, it means sinking a shot directly in the opponent's face, but the term isn't used that way! Everyone here was a college student; who hadn't seen a few adult films? Who didn't know the other meaning of that word?

The players, who had just walked to the sideline, felt a collective chill. Although all were freshmen, they had heard tales of the Nursing College girls' boldness. Seeing it now confirmed their reputations.

Smash! Han Yuanzheng, having just picked up a bottle of purified water, slammed it onto the ground. His face ashen, he strode off the court.

His teammates exchanged bewildered glances; none dared to stop him. After all, if anyone were told by dozens of women to watch another man perform "**" right in front of his face, their reaction wouldn't be any better than Han Yuanzheng’s.