harleyscars Chapter 142 is finished.
Chapter 142 is finished.
Class 15 is very strong, but Class 4 is not to be underestimated either.
Chen Xu received the ball under the basket, backed down, turned, and jumped.
Two players from Class 15 rushed at him, but he didn't dodge; instead, he slammed the ball into the basket.
The basketball hoop wobbled and creaked.
The cheers from Class 4 erupted on the sidelines, and Xiao Yunqing clenched her fists and breathed a sigh of relief.
In the next possession, Song Huan received the ball outside the three-point line, with the defender sticking to him very closely.
He took two quick steps, stepped back, and jumped.
The ball was flicked from the fingertips and went into the net cleanly.
After scoring five consecutive points, Zhao Ling from Class 15's expression changed.
He glanced at the person next to him and gave them a meaningful look.
Next, Class 15 started making more small, disruptive moves.
Push people when positioning yourself, extend your leg when setting a screen, and pull on their clothes when running off the ball.
The referee was lax in his whistle, failing to blow it several times.
Zhao Qihang was pushed and staggered a couple of steps, but he steadied himself and didn't fall.
Chen Xu was also kneed from behind. He glanced back and saw that the person had already run away.
Zhao Ling has the ball at the top of the arc, and Song Huan is defending him.
Zhao Ling moved twice, then suddenly accelerated, his shoulder slumped down, and he bumped into Song Huan's chest.
Song Huan fell backward and crashed to the ground, her back sliding half a meter across the concrete.
The whistle finally blew.
Zhao Ling committed a foul.
Xiao Yunqing rushed to the sideline, her voice both angry and anxious, "Aren't you going to call a foul? He's already been sent flying!"
The referee glanced at her, said nothing, and signaled for Song Huan to take the free throw.
Zhao Ling stood to the side, spread his hands, and smiled.
The smile was brief, like the tip of a needle.
[Even if it's called, so what? It's just three free throws.]
[But it's true that he needs to suffer a bit.]
Chen Xu walked over, bent down, and extended his hand to Song Huan.
Song Huan grabbed him and was pulled up.
Zhao Qihang cursed softly from the side, but Zhao Ling heard it and turned to look at him.
Song Huan dusted himself off and stepped up to the free throw line.
He took the ball, dribbled it twice, and then shot.
The ball arced through the air and swished into the net.
The second one also went in.
The third option is still to move forward.
All three free throws were made.
Xiao Yunqing finally breathed a sigh of relief.
In the next round, Song Huan made a run along the baseline and used Chen Xu's screen to circle out and receive the ball.
The students from Class 15 rushed in from the side, their shoulders hitting his waist. He flew out and crashed to the ground, managing to brace himself with his hand, his palms scraped raw.
The referee still didn't call a foul.
He pressed down with both hands, signaling Song Huan to get up.
Zhao Ling stood to the side, spreading his hands and looking completely innocent.
"I definitely didn't push him, he was just too weak."
Xiao Yunqing trembled with anger upon hearing this.
Song Huan got up from the ground, gritting her teeth.
Zhao Qihang passed the ball to him, but he didn't dribble; he jumped the moment he received the ball.
He was just a step beyond the three-point line when the defender rushed in, but it was too late.
The ball was flicked from the fingertips, arcing high, and bounced off the backboard into the basket.
The cheers from Class 4 on the sidelines exploded.
Song Huan landed, turned around, and looked at Zhao Ling.
He made a contemptuous gesture.
Zhao Ling's expression turned even uglier.
For the rest of the time, Zhao Ling's mind was no longer on playing basketball.
He stared at Song Huan, his expression changing.
He followed Song Huan wherever she went.
Instead of guarding against others, guard against him.
The movements with his hands became increasingly forceful, pushing, pulling, and tugging. The whistle blew several times, but Zhao Ling didn't care.
Song Huan drew the firepower of Class 15 alone, allowing Class 4's attack to become increasingly successful.
Chen Xu was left wide open under the basket, and he caught the ball and dunked.
Zhao Qihang was unguarded at the top of the arc, so he took a mid-range shot and made it.
The score is gradually closing in.
Zhao Ling finally panicked.
Thirty-four to thirty-five.
Class 4 is one point behind.
The final attack.
If they can hold onto this ball, Class 15 will win.
Zhao Ling served the ball from the backcourt. The ball was passed to a teammate, who dribbled for two steps before being forced to stop by Zhao Qihang and then passed it out.
The ball spun around in the hands of several people from Class 15 before finally returning to Zhao Ling's hands.
Song Huan was wary of him.
Zhao Ling tugged twice, then lowered his shoulders and bumped into Song Huan.
Song Huan didn't dodge; instead, she pressed her chest against him.
Zhao Ling bumped into her again, and Song Huan took a step back without falling.
Just as Zhao Ling was about to make another collision, Song Huan suddenly turned to the side, slid past Zhao Ling on the left, and reached out to poke the ball away.
The ball rolled to the ground, Song Huan pounced on it, grabbed it, got up, and ran towards the frontcourt.
Zhao Ling chased after him.
Another person from Class 15 rushed up, but Song Huan took a step, changed direction, and got past him.
The space in front of me is empty.
He accelerated, reached the free-throw line, and jumped.
He raised his hand, flicked the ball from his fingertips, and it bounced off the backboard and into the basket.
The whistle blew as we landed.
The entire room fell silent for a second.
Then cheers erupted from Class 4, like an explosion.
Xiao Yunqing stood on the sidelines and jumped up, shouting, "We won! We won!"
She grabbed Zhou Shan's hand and shook it vigorously.
Zhou Shan was so shaken that her glasses almost fell off.
Zhao Qihang rushed over from the backcourt and hugged Song Huan tightly.
Chen Xu also ran over, and the three of them bumped into each other.
The students from Class 15 stood on the field, hands on their hips, looking at the scoreboard.
Thirty-six to thirty-five, the numbers are highlighted in red.
Zhao Ling stood near the free-throw line, panting, staring at Song Huan's back.
Xiao Yunqing stood on the sidelines, her eyes still fixed on Song Huan.
She saw him bump fists with Zhao Qihang, saw Chen Xu pat him on the head, and saw him turn around.
Zhao Ling suddenly rushed up from behind at this moment.
His shoulder bumped into Song Huan's back, causing Song Huan to stumble forward and fall to the ground with a thud.
Zhao Ling didn't stop, but turned and left.
There was a moment of silence on the sidelines, then Zhao Qihang's voice exploded.
"What the hell are you doing!" He rushed forward, but Chen Xu grabbed him.
Chen Xu pressed his hand on Zhao Qihang's chest with great force, and Zhao Qihang struggled but couldn't break free.
Instead, Chen Xu rushed forward, stood in front of Zhao Ling, and stared at him.
The students from Class 15 immediately surrounded Zhao Ling and stood in front of him.
Someone gave Chen Xu a push, but Chen Xu didn't move.
The team members on both sides were huddled together, some pushing, some pulling, and some cursing.
The referee blew his whistle several times, but no one listened.
Song Huan got up from the ground, a red mark on her forehead.
He stepped forward, grabbed Chen Xu's arm, and tugged at it.
"never mind."
Chen Xu turned to look at him.
"Go find the teacher later." Song Huan's voice wasn't loud, but it was steady. "Don't fight them, we still have the championship match to play."
Chen Xu loosened his grip, Zhao Qihang stopped, and the people from Class Four took two steps back.
Zhao Ling stood at the back of the crowd, glanced at Song Huan, and turned to walk out.
He took two steps when a figure rushed in front of him and blocked his way.
Xiao Yunqing stood in front of him, head tilted back, her face flushed red.
Apologize to him.
Zhao Ling looked down at her.
Short hair, pale face, and watery eyes.
He paused for a moment, then frowned.
Raise your arm and push it outwards.
Xiao Yunqing fell backward and crashed to the ground.
She braced herself with her hand, but lost her balance, and her elbow hit the floor, making her gasp in pain.
Zhao Ling turned and left.
Song Huan's mind was buzzing.
Without thinking, he rushed forward and kicked Zhao Ling in the waist.
Zhao Ling staggered forward a few steps but didn't fall.
Song Huan pounced on him, punching him in the face.
Zhao Ling tilted to the side, and a cut appeared at the corner of his mouth, with blood seeping out.
"Fuck your mother!"
Song Huan threw another punch, this time to Zhao Ling's cheekbone. Zhao Ling turned his head to the side and braced himself against the floor.
Someone rushed up to pull him away, but he shook them off and threw another punch.
Someone was calling "Song Huan," but he didn't hear it.
He punched Zhao Ling's face relentlessly, as if he had no regard for his life.
In the end, Chen Xu hugged him from behind and pulled him away.
Zhao Ling lay on the ground, his face covered in blood.
At this moment, everyone had only one reaction.
Song Huan is finished!