wavenovel Chapter 144 Regret
Chapter 144 Regret
The number of people gathered on the playground for the final on Friday afternoon was twice that of the previous week.
Song Huan stood on the playground, waiting for Zhao Qihang and Chen Xu to come over.
They arrived. Zhao Qihang walked in front, with Chen Xu following behind.
Song Huan didn't say anything, walked over, hugged Zhao Qihang, and then hugged Chen Xu.
Zhao Qihang patted him on the back, his face still bearing his usual confident smile. "Don't worry, we'll definitely bring the championship back for you. Don't forget, we're the Three Musketeers!"
Chen Xu pressed his hand on his back, then released it. "The Three Musketeers forever."
"Defense."
Song Huan then looked at her three teammates who were about to take the court, "Pay attention to positioning, don't leave anyone open. I've studied Class 1, their outside shooting is accurate, so you need to be quick when you rush out."
The three people nodded, one bounced the ball, and the other tied his shoelaces.
Zhao Qihang took a deep breath and turned to walk towards the court.
Chen Xu followed behind, taking long strides.
Song Huan turned and walked towards the audience seats.
He climbed the steps one by one until he reached the top and sat down.
The playground was packed with people; Class 4 was surrounded by a sea of blue, while Class 1 was surrounded by a sea of white.
The referee stood in the center circle, holding the ball in his hand and his whistle in his mouth.
Someone sat down next to him.
It was Xiao Yunqing. She put her schoolbag on her lap, hugged it, and didn't say anything.
The wind blew, blowing her short hair onto her face, but she didn't brush it away.
Song Huan didn't say anything either.
The two sat side by side, watching the stadium.
My thoughts drifted over, softly, as if afraid of disturbing something.
We must win.
We absolutely have to win.
The whistle blew.
The ball was tossed up, Chen Xu jumped for it, and with a flick of his wrist, passed it to Zhao Qihang. The game began.
Class 1's defense was very tight, with players sticking to each other and not giving them any space.
Zhao Qihang dribbled the ball across half-court, was forced to the sideline, and passed it out.
The ball spun around in the hands of several people before ending up in Chen Xu's hands.
He was under the basket, double-teamed, turned around, and jumped.
The ball bounced off the rim and rolled in.
The first team immediately launched a fast break. The guard dribbled to the frontcourt and passed to the forward who was following up. The forward took three steps and made a layup. The ball went in.
Zhao Qihang held the ball at the top of the arc and called out "Chen Xu".
Chen Xu circled out from the baseline, received the ball, dribbled once, stopped abruptly, and jumped to shoot.
The ball spun around the rim and rolled in.
The score went back and forth.
Class 1 was leading by two points, but Class 4 tied the score.
Class 1 took the lead again, and Class 4 caught up.
Zhao Qihang's T-shirt was soaked through and stuck to his back.
He was panting, but he was still running.
Chen Xu was bumped under the basket, but he didn't fall. He regained his footing and continued to box out for position.
The cheers from the sidelines were deafening.
Someone on the other side of the classroom was banging a drum, making a thumping sound that made one's chest feel tight.
The fourth class's voices were hoarse from shouting, and someone was holding up a sign that read "Fourth Class Will Win".
Thirty-two to twenty-nine.
Class 1 is leading by three points.
Zhao Qihang dribbled the ball across half-court, but it was intercepted.
A fast break, the guard goes for a layup, and the ball goes in.
Zhao Qihang clapped his hands, cursed, and ran back to catch the ball.
Thirty-four to twenty-six.
The point difference widened to eight points.
Class 4 called a pause.
Zhao Qihang wiped his face with a towel and gasped for breath.
Chen Xu stood to the side, unscrewed the water bottle, took a sip, poured some water on his head, and shook his head.
After the timeout, Zhao Qihang passed the ball to Chen Xu, who made a strong shot under the basket, turned around, jumped, and put the ball into the hoop.
The whistle blew, the foul was called.
Additional penalty.
Chen Xu stood at the free throw line, dribbled the ball twice, and then shot.
The ball bounced off the rim and rolled in.
Thirty-four to twenty-nine.
Time is passing.
Class 4 narrowed the gap to 34:31, but Class 1 scored again, making it 36:31.
Chen Xu received the ball under the basket, turned around, jumped, and looked up.
The top of the arc is empty.
"Song Huan..."
He instinctively opened his mouth, as if to call out that name.
He opened his mouth, but then froze.
He remembered that person standing outside the three-point line, hand raised, waiting for his pass.
He remembered the sound of that person catching the ball and shooting it, the ball spinning in the air and then swishing through the net with a whoosh, like tearing a piece of paper.
There's no one at the top of the arc now.
That spot is empty.
He gritted his teeth and hit himself.
He turned around and jumped, and the students from Class 1 pounced on him, hitting his arm.
The ball bounced off the rim but didn't go in.
The whistle blew, free throw.
He stood at the free-throw line, panting, his hands trembling slightly.
The first free throw: the ball bounced off the rim and rolled in.
The second free throw hit the back of the rim and bounced out.
Class 1 grabbed the rebound, but time had already expired.
The whistle blew.
Thirty-six to thirty-one.
The people from Class One rushed into the field, hugged each other, some jumped up, and some fell to the ground.
No one moved on Class 4's side.
Zhao Qihang stood with his hands on his hips, head down, sweat dripping from his chin onto the ground.
Chen Xu stood under the basket, looking at the hoop. After a few seconds, he turned and walked off the court.
Zhao Qihang walked over and patted Chen Xu on the shoulder. He didn't say anything.
Chen Xu lowered his head, a towel draped around his neck, and he gripped both ends of the towel.
Zhao Qihang patted it again and walked away.
The podium was set up in the middle of the stadium and covered with a red cloth.
The students from Class One stood up, picked up the trophy, and raised it above their heads.
The flash went off once, then again.
Some people were shouting, some were laughing, and some were clapping.
Song Huan sat in the audience, looking at the trophy.
The trophy was gold, reflecting light so brightly in the sun it was dazzling.
He stared at the trophy for a long time without saying a word.
The people around didn't say anything; a cool breeze blew by.
"Are you alright?" Xiao Yunqing suddenly asked, her voice soft and trembling.
Song Huan snapped out of her daze, smiled, and said, "I'm fine, it was just a game."
"But you cried..." Xiao Yunqing's voice was choked with sobs.
He froze for a moment.
I subconsciously reached out and touched my face.
My fingertip touched the corner of my eye; it was wet.
He lowered his fingers and looked at the tiny speck of water glistening on his fingertips.
"It's probably windy here," he said, his voice a little dry. "Sand got in."
He smiled, but the smile was short-lived; he just twitched his lips and then looked away.
He turned back and looked at the podium on the playground.
The students from Class 1 were still up there, taking photos with the trophy in their hands.
He looked at the trophy, and the smile on his face gradually faded.
The regrets of the past life remain the same in this one.
Some things are simply destined to be unattainable.
He stared at the trophy without blinking.
Suddenly, his shoulder got wet.
Xiao Yunqing leaned on his shoulder, tears streaming down her face and dripping onto his school uniform, leaving a small dark stain.
Her shoulders were trembling, and her voice was muffled, squeezed out of her throat.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
She kept talking, her voice growing more and more fragmented, like glass falling to the ground and shattering into pieces.
Tears streamed down his face, one after another, soaking his shoulder.
Song Huan reached out and gently put her arm around her shoulder.
Her hands gripped the hem of his clothes tightly.
He lowered his head, his chin resting on her hair, the short hair brushing against his chin, tickling him.
"It's alright," he said softly. "It's alright."
The wind blew by, scattering the cheers from the playground.
The people on the podium are still laughing and jumping.
The audience was still clapping.
As the sun sets in the west, its rays turn orange-red, bathing the entire playground in a warm hue.
Song Huan sat there, with her arm around Xiao Yunqing, looking at the trophy.
The wind blew from the playground, carrying the smell of the rubber track, the smell of sweat, and the coolness of summer as it was about to end.
That's probably what youth is like.
We fought hard, but we still lost.
I've cried, and I've laughed.
Some people waited and got it, some people missed it.
In the end, the trophy was won by someone else.
But some things are more important than trophies.