Chapter Seventy-Seven: Old Rivals, New Faces (Part One)

"Coach Wang, hello, we meet again. I still remember our last game vividly—you’re truly a promising young coach."

"Coach Tursun, you’re my senior in this profession. We should be learning from you. It’s an honor to have another match against your team."

Though Tursun Azat had the unmistakable features of Central Asia, he spoke the official language with flawless fluency. Having held the post of head coach at the University of Finance and Economics for over a decade, Tursun Azat was certainly not an ordinary man.

The outcome of the previous match had left Tursun deeply dissatisfied. He believed his team held a considerable advantage over the provincial youth squad. As for the loss in the last scrimmage, he attributed it partly to his players’ lack of focus, and partly to what he considered opportunistic tactics by the youth team.

So, when March arrived, the Finance and Economics University quickly arranged another practice match with the provincial youth team. Tursun saw this as an opportunity to properly educate his own players—and, perhaps, to teach the inexperienced Wang Lei a lesson in what real basketball meant.

Losing to a team led by a coach not yet thirty—and one with a limp at that—was a bitter pill for Tursun to swallow, especially given the stifling manner of their defeat. In his old-school eyes, Wang Lei’s approach was little more than reckless improvisation, a style that went against the grain of basketball’s development.

Wang Lei, for his part, held no particular grudge against his seasoned adversary. His sole concern was finding ways for his team to play as many friendly matches as possible—both to familiarize the players with his system and to help them grow. He sensed his players were in a rapid “growth spurt” phase, and what they needed most were games—only through competition could they truly internalize what they’d learned in practice.

After spending these recent weeks with his squad, Wang Lei had gained a solid understanding of his players. His abilities allowed him to sense their states, even picking up on lapses in focus during training. With his constant reminders and corrections, these college athletes were beginning to make the shift toward professionalism.

Once again, the match was held in the University of Finance and Economics’ gymnasium. The provincial youth team’s base belonged to the Provincial Sports Administration, and they only had the right to use it for training, not for matches—which made organizing games there a hassle.

Despite being a friendly, the gym drew a decent crowd—mostly university students. Surprisingly, among them were fans of Wang Lei from his music days, some even waving signs with his name. It was an unusual sight.

The game began smoothly. Compared to the last match, the university team was more focused and cautious. After winning the tip-off, they advanced steadily into the front court.

Tursun Azat’s instructions were clear: play it safe, rely on their interior advantage in half-court sets, and only take shots when a tactical play yielded a wide-open look.

But trouble came right away. Their center and captain, Aierken, received a lob pass inside from the point guard and instantly felt a powerful force from behind. In their previous encounter, Aierken had realized the short-statured opposing big man possessed surprising strength—but today, the difference was even more pronounced. He could tell that his opponent wasn’t even exerting himself fully; maintaining textbook defensive posture, he still managed to exert tremendous pressure.

Aierken didn’t panic. He tried to shift his feet, spun halfway, and attempted a hook shot, hoping to draw Hawule out of position.

But Hawule was no longer the same player from a month ago. Through relentless drills with his teammates, he’d developed a real understanding of defense. He wouldn’t rack up quick fouls and be benched within minutes like last time.

Seeing his defender hold back, Aierken completed his move and lofted a half-turn hook at the basket.

But Aierken, for all his solid fundamentals, wasn’t a professional. Shooting out of rhythm, his attempt bounced off the rim.

Hawule instantly pivoted to block out Aierken, spreading his arms wide to secure more space. As the ball came down, he leapt calmly and claimed the rebound.

Most of the university team’s players had assumed their captain’s first attack would succeed, so they hadn’t bothered to get back on defense. Meanwhile, as Hawule grabbed the rebound, Turgun, Wang Zhaohui, and their starting small forward Li Kaize were already sprinting toward midcourt. Even Cai Aihong had crossed the three-point line in the backcourt.

Hawule didn’t hesitate. Securing the rebound, he flung the ball upcourt immediately.

What happened next stunned the home crowd. With the front court wide open, Turgun—point guard for the provincial youth team—caught the ball, and, upon reaching the three-point arc, rose for a jump shot without hesitation.

Coach Tursun, who had been ready to scold his players for not getting back on defense, was left speechless by the white-haired Turgun’s audacity. He’d never seen anyone attempt something like that. In Tursun’s eyes, such a player would spell disaster for any team.

But, to everyone’s shock, the ball left Turgun’s hands with a fierce spin and shot straight through the net. The provincial youth team had struck the first blow, and in style.

The crowd marveled at the white-haired young man’s elegant and precise shooting form. Tursun, with his keen experience, noticed something odd: as Turgun released the shot, all the other provincial youth players who’d started running down the court had stopped in their tracks. The meaning was clear—either they had no faith in Turgun’s shot, or they had absolute confidence in him. The result spoke for itself.

Turgun’s opening three-pointer electrified his teammates, who rushed over to tousle his hair or pat him on the back. They were all young men themselves, and though Turgun was the youngest and might normally be doubted, the entire provincial squad had unwavering faith in his shooting. None of them questioned his right to take the shot from beyond the arc.

Facing their old rivals, the provincial youth team presented a new face—one that left their opponents utterly astonished.