8mi Chapter 149 Even in your prime, I might not lose.
Chapter 149 Even in your prime, I might not lose.
Echizen Nanjiro mentally reviewed the judgment and confirmed that he had not misjudged the situation.
This fifteen-year-old boy is not someone to be admired as a legend, a predecessor, or "the former Japanese tennis myth."
Instead, they were looking at him with a scrutinizing, calm, and even slightly critical eye.
It's as if it's saying: I know who you are, what you've done, how strong you are, and how weak you are now.
This feeling is wonderful.
The last time he was looked at like that by a fifteen-year-old was...
Um...no, never.
Echizen Nanjiro put his hands back into his sleeves, the smile still on his face, but the laziness in his eyes had completely disappeared.
There was an added layer of genuine curiosity.
It wasn't curiosity about "junior high school tennis players," but curiosity about a boy who "possesses a world-class aura but has never played a formal match."
You can't fake an aura.
Just like you can't pretend you've climbed Mount Everest, what's etched into your bones will seep out from every pore the moment you stand still.
This kid is something else.
Yes... it's not simple at all.
His gaze, and that unwavering certainty that "no matter who's standing opposite me, I won't lose," weren't something he trained for; they came from winning.
The confidence is honed through countless tough battles, one after another, year after year.
But this kid just said he's never played professionally.
And they hadn't played a single game.
This is completely unreasonable.
Echizen Nanjiro went over this information in his mind several times and finally came to a conclusion.
I have never actually seen this person in the world of tennis.
But the person's aura proved that they were lying.
He was certain that this kid had returned from the world stage.
But... he's only fifteen.
That's interesting. This little guy must have something else he hasn't said.
"How's it going, kid?"
Echizen Nanjiro took half a step forward, his wooden clogs making a crisp sound on the stone pavement. "Want to play a game? There's a court right behind here. I drove here; it'll only take ten minutes."
"Whether you've played in a world championship or not, you'll know after one match, right?" He pulled his hand out of his sleeve, spread his hands, and smiled like a rogue. "Tennis is something you can't just talk about; you only know when you're on the court."
He paused, his tone casual, still with that nonchalant air, "Or you could play a match with my son. He's been talking about you a lot lately. He's always saying he wants to play a match with the coach from Hyotei, I'm sick of hearing it."
Wang Yueling looked at the father and son, her azure eyes devoid of emotion. Just as she was about to refuse, she felt her sleeve being gently tugged again.
Looking down, he saw Yukimura's fingers gently pinching his sleeve, the meaning clear: Don't agree.
Mochizuki Ryou's lips curved slightly, then she raised her head and looked at Echizen and his son.
"It's a fact that I haven't played a formal match in the last 15 years. I don't feel the need to prove it by playing a match against you."
His tone remained the same, unhurried: "Senior, you're thirty-three this year, aren't you?"
"Um."
"Are you sure you want to fight me?"
Echizen Nanjiro smiled, a smile devoid of embarrassment or anger, but filled with a pure, exhilarating excitement at meeting a worthy opponent.
"What, are you scared?"
Wang Yueling also laughed out loud.
"Afraid?"
He rolled the word on the tip of his tongue, then gently shook his head. "That's right, I'm afraid you'll lose too badly. I might not have lost to you even in your prime, let alone now that you're thirty-three, retired for almost ten years, and have a belly. Your stamina, reflexes, and touch are all past their prime."
"It would be dishonorable to win against you. It would be even more shameful to lose."
"I won't do this kind of unprofitable business."
He glanced at Ryoma Echizen again. "As for your son, as I said before, he's too young and too weak. Wait until he trains for a few more years and is able to make it into the professional ranks before you talk about challenging me."
Ryoma Echizen was rejected again, his face darkened, and he tightened his grip on Karupin. The cat meowed in dissatisfaction in his arms, but he ignored it.
"Who are you calling unqualified?"
"I'm talking to you." Wang Yueling tilted her head to look at him, her tone remaining calm even in front of his father. "You don't think you are?"
"you……"
"What do you mean, 'you'?"
Wang Yueling interrupted him, her words slow but sharp, each one like a dart: "How many matches have you played? How many championships have you won? How many top 100 players in the world have you beaten? You haven't won a single one. Where do you get the confidence to think you're qualified to fight me?"
"Competing against players who can break into the world's top 100 is my selection criterion for amateur competitions."
"I'm sorry, you're not qualified yet!"
Ryoma Echizen was speechless, his lips pressed into a thin line, his amber eyes burning with fire.
Wang Yueling looked at him and continued:
"You think you're strong? That's because you haven't seen real strength. The opponents you've played wouldn't even make it out of the qualifiers on the world stage. You may be the king of junior high school tennis, but outside of Japan, you wouldn't even be a name in the running."
He paused for a moment and tilted his head.
"Of course, you won't understand these words now. Because you've never seen what the outside world looks like."
Ryoma Echizen was so angry that his hands, which were holding the cat, were trembling.
But he remained rooted to the spot, not rushing forward to refute. Because what Mochizuki Ryou said wasn't without reason.
He has indeed never played in a world championship, and he has indeed never beaten a player ranked in the top 100 in the world. Winning a lot in junior competitions means nothing in the adult professional arena.
The person in front of him, although only two years older than him, dared to tell his father directly that he was "no less powerful than his father at his peak."
Although Dad didn't answer, his expression showed that he acknowledged the other person's ability.
That's the difference between them.
Ryoma Echizen pulled his hat brim down, covering most of his face.
Echizen Nanjiro stood beside him, watching his son being scolded to the point of being unable to utter a single word. Far from being angry, he seemed to be enjoying the show.
He glanced at Wang Yueling, his gaze filled with a complex mix of emotions—admiration, curiosity, and a hint of inexplicable感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a complex feeling of mixed emotions, often including regret or nostalgia).
"Young man, you have quite the sharp tongue!!!"
"Just telling the truth." Mochizuki Ryou shrugged, her expression indifferent. "If you don't like hearing it, I can say a few more words."
Echizen Nanjiro patted the sleeves of his monk's robe and laughed heartily.
"You little rascal, you're really rude. I like it, you have character."
"However, young man, I've remembered what you just said. Ryoma is still far from it. I hope you'll still be able to say it when he grows up. At that time..."
Ryoma Echizen, standing to the side, had a tense expression on his face. He quietly looked at Ryo Mochizuki, then at Seiichi Yukimura, who was standing silently to the side. His lips moved several times, but in the end, he couldn't help but interrupt his father.
"Dad, stop talking. He won't fight me, and he won't fight you either."
Echizen Nanjiro glanced at his son, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh? Are you sure you don't need to say a few more words?"
"Hmm." Ryoma Echizen put the cat on his shoulder, his voice muffled. "He thinks I'm too young, and you're too old. Anyway, he just won't fight us."
Mochizuki Ryo glanced at Echizen Ryoma; the kid's summary was quite accurate.
"So what do you think?" Echizen Nanjiro asked his son. "If they don't fight back, what are you going to do?"
Ryoma Echizen was silent for two seconds, then raised his head, his amber eyes staring straight at Ryo Mochizuki.
"I will defeat Hyotei, the team you led, in the match the day after tomorrow."
Wang Yueling looked at him but didn't reply.
"Didn't you say I wasn't good enough?" Echizen Ryoma's voice wasn't loud, but each word was emphasized. "Then I'll beat you until you think you're good enough."
Looking into his bright, burning eyes, Wang Yueling suddenly felt a little amused, yet also had a strange, indescribable feeling.
This kid is really stubborn and won't admit defeat.
At this moment, the "I will beat you" mentality has completely transformed into the "You must see me" mentality.
"Suit yourself." Wang Yueling put her hands back in her pockets, her tone returning to its lazy manner. "We'll talk when you actually come to me."
After he finished speaking, he turned to the side and grabbed Yukimura's wrist, the movement was very light and gentle.
"Let's go."
Yukimura was pulled along, and his steps followed him as he turned in a different direction. After taking two steps, he gently pulled his wrist away from Mochizuki Ryo's palm.
Wang Yueling tilted her head and looked at him with a puzzled expression.
Yukimura didn't look at him; his gaze was fixed on the corridor ahead, his expression calm and unreadable. He simply took a step forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with Mochizuki Ryo.
His meaning was clear: "I don't need you to lead me, I can walk by myself."
But the distance was even closer than before; there was less than a fist's width between their shoulders.
Wang Yueling withdrew her hand, put it in her pocket, and smiled slightly.
Watching the two figures walk away, Echizen Nanjiro reached out and patted his son's shoulder. "Come on, I'll take you to meet some of my old friends."
Ryoma Echizen stood still, holding the cat.
"dad."
"Um."
Why won't he fight me?
Echizen Nanjiro thought for a moment, then said tactfully, "Because you're not someone he wants to fight. And also because your current strength isn't quite there yet; you're still far from it."
Ryoma Echizen bit his lip, tightening his grip on the cat. He watched the two people disappear at the other end of the exhibition hall, their blond and blue-purple hair intertwining and separating in the crowd.
"Let's go." Echizen Nanjiro had already turned around, his wooden clogs making a crisp sound on the marble floor. "After you've finished meeting my friend, we should go home early, otherwise your mom and Nanako will call and yell at you."
Ryoma Echizen took one last look in that direction, then followed after them with the cat in his arms.