Billiards: Starting with the Overlord's Shot, Dominating the World

While Zhou Zhenhua was still hesitating, Liu Bin's roar continued.

"Zhou Zhenhua! Did you see that? This is the genius you call yourself! A clown who relies on crooked methods and illegal techniques to attract attention! I demand that he be disqualified from the competition immediately! No, he should be expelled! This kind of black sheep doesn't deserve to be in a professional sports team!"

He spoke with righteous indignation, spitting as he spoke, as if he were the embodiment of justice, a holy knight upholding the purity of the table tennis world.

Looking at his blustering yet cowardly demeanor, the team members felt a surge of contempt.

If you can't beat someone, you flip the table? And you're even making a character accusation?

This provincial team coach's vision is far too narrow.

Faced with Liu Bin's relentless barrage of attacks, Fan Zhengyang, the person directly involved, remained remarkably calm.

He even had the leisure to bend down and pick up the racket that Liu Bin had dropped on the ground, then carefully wiped the dust off it with the corner of his clothes.

He handed the racket back to Liu Bin, his face still bearing the same harmless, warm smile.

"Coach Liu, calm down. Getting angry is bad for your health. At your age, your blood pressure is prone to high. If you get seriously ill from getting angry, our city team can't afford the consequences."

"You...!" Liu Bin was so angry at his sarcastic concern that he almost choked.

"As for the foul you mentioned..." Fan Zhengyang shrugged, looking completely innocent, and said, "I really have to talk to you about that."

He turned to Coach Zhou Zhenhua and all the players watching, his voice not loud, but clearly carried throughout the entire training hall.

"Coach, fellow students, I just memorized the serving rules in table tennis a few days ago."

Everyone: "???"

Breaching the rules?

These days, who actually has the time to memorize that long and tedious ITTF rulebook? That's some serious nonsense!

Fan Zhengyang cleared his throat and began his science popularization session.

According to Article 2.06.04 of the ITTF Rulebook: "From the start of the serve until the ball is struck, the ball shall always remain above the table and behind the server's end line. The server's body or any item worn by the server shall not obstruct the ball between the server and the receiver."

"Note that the key phrase here is 'covering the ball'."

"The ITTF's official explanation for obstruction is: throughout the entire serve, the receiver's line of sight must not be continuously obstructed by the server's non-racket arm or any part of their body from the ball."

He spoke clearly and logically, citing numerous sources, and even remembered the clause numbers of the rules perfectly, leaving everyone present stunned.

Even Zhou Zhenhua didn't expect that Fan Zhengyang's understanding of the rules was more thorough than his own as a coach!

"And my serve!" Fan Zhengyang continued, his gaze returning to Liu Bin. "First, the ball toss height was definitely over 16 centimeters, which complies with the rules. Second, my contact point was always above the table and behind the end line, which also complies with the rules. Third, and most importantly, my non-racket arm remained extended throughout, never moving between my body and the ball, which fully complies with the rules."

"As for what you said about body covering," Fan Zhengyang smiled, a smile tinged with a hint of mockery.

"I admit that I used the body rotation allowed by the rules to interfere with my wrist movement to some extent for a fraction of a second before the shot. However, this does not constitute obstruction in the sense of the rules."

"Because the ball was always within your line of sight! I didn't block the ball!"

This can only prove one thing—

Fan Zhengyang's tone suddenly turned sharp. He took a step forward, stared intently at Liu Bin, and said, word by word, "It wasn't my serve that was a foul."

"It's simply that your own skill level is insufficient, your eyesight is too poor, and you can't see it clearly!"

These words were like a depth charge, creating a massive upheaval in Liu Bin's mind!

Not skilled enough! Poor eyesight! Just can't see it clearly!

This is not just a rebuttal to his accusations; it is a ruthless denial and humiliation of his entire career!

"You...you...you're spouting nonsense!"

Liu Bin's face had turned a deep purplish-red. He pointed at Fan Zhengyang, and due to extreme anger, he could barely speak coherently.

"I...I'm a provincial team coach! I've played tennis for twenty years! How could I not see a serve? You...you're insulting my character!"

"I didn't insult your character," Fan Zhengyang said innocently, spreading his hands. "I was just stating a fact."

"Coach Liu, please don't misunderstand," Fan Zhenyang continued, "I mean, my serve combines body movements, timing, and multiple wrist feints, which does require a high level of dynamic vision and anticipation. It may be beyond the comprehension of players at your level."

"It's perfectly normal that you can't see clearly. After all, there's a sequence to learning, and everyone has their own area of ​​expertise. You agree, right?"

These words were spoken with humility and politeness, but every word was like a poisoned knife, stabbing Liu Bin hard in the heart!

What does "beyond the comprehension of a player of your level" mean?

Isn't this basically saying that "being bad at cooking is the original sin"?!

"I'll fight you to the death!"

Liu Bin's rationality completely collapsed at this moment!

He roared, threw away the racket Fan Zhengyang handed him, and charged at Fan Zhengyang with his fists swung!

He wanted to use the most primitive method to defend his dignity, which had long since vanished!

"Coach Liu! Calm down!"

Zhou Zhenhua and several team members reacted quickly and rushed forward, tightly embracing Liu Bin, who was already in a state of frenzy.

Fan Zhengyang, on the other hand, stood still the whole time, without even blinking.

He simply watched the provincial team coach, who was struggling wildly and making a complete fool of himself in the arms of the crowd, with no anger or disdain in his eyes, only a detached calm.

It's like watching a clown jumping around.

Fan Zhenyang slowly shook his head, then turned around and walked back to his seat.

As he walked, he muttered to himself in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft, but loud enough for everyone present to hear: "Sigh, I was hoping for a proper fight. I didn't expect to drive him crazy like this."

"Young people these days, or rather, middle-aged people, have really poor mental fortitude."

Thanks to the desperate tug-of-war between Zhou Zhenhua and several team members, Liu Bin, who was already in a berserk state, managed to avoid a full-blown brawl.

He was forced back into the "leader's seat," panting heavily, his chest heaving violently, and looking at Fan Zhengyang with eyes that seemed to want to devour him alive.

Fan Zhengyang's casual remark, "Middle-aged people have really poor mental fortitude," was like the last straw that broke the camel's back, completely shattering all his dignity.