Reborn in 2006, it's incredibly awesome!

September 26th, another rest day for military training.

At eight o'clock in the morning, Lin Feng was still asleep when he was woken up by a text message on his phone.

Yesterday, Zhao Meng posted a declaration of war in various freshman groups: "Tomorrow morning at 10:00, basketball court, 1V1 duel."

"The loser has to call you 'brother' from now on. Those who don't come are automatically considered to have surrendered and will be awarded the title of 'coward'."

At this moment, the student groups in each company were already in an uproar, all waiting to see this highly anticipated basketball match!

Lin Feng glanced at it, then tossed his phone next to his pillow, turned over, and went back to sleep.

Zhang Wei poked his head out from the top bunk: "Brother Feng, are you still sleeping? Zhao Meng is 1.88 meters tall, a special sports recruit, he plays basketball like he's beating up kids."

Lin Feng closed his eyes and said, "He might be able to hit a child, but he might not be able to hit an adult."

By 9:30, the basketball court was already surrounded by several layers of people.

Normally, nobody watches basketball games, but after Zhao Meng hyped it up in various freshman groups, even people who don't know anything about basketball came.

After all, watching a spectacle is a traditional virtue of the Chinese people.

Zhao Meng had already arrived, wearing a red basketball vest, black shorts, and Nike basketball shoes.

He was warming up under the basket, dribbling, layup, and dunking.

He also invited the vice president of the basketball club to be the referee, a tall, thin man wearing glasses, holding a whistle, standing in the middle of the court with a serious expression.

Lin Feng's three girlfriends also arrived. Liu Chengcheng was holding a bottle of iced tea, Song Yan was holding a towel, and Liu Jiaqi was carrying a small bag containing band-aids and spray.

The three of them stood together like three flowers of different colors. The boys around them would occasionally glance over, but no one dared to get close, because these three flowers had thorns around them that would prick their hands.

At 9:50, Raymond Lam appeared at the sidelines of the court, wearing a white T-shirt, black sweatpants, and white sneakers.

Zhang Wei stood next to him, holding a bottle of mineral water, looking nervous.

Li Mo walked behind, still holding a copy of "Mathematical Analysis" in his hand. He found a quiet spot on the steps, sat down, and opened the book.

At exactly 10:00, Zhao Meng tossed the ball to Lin Feng, raising an eyebrow: "Don't say I'm bullying you, I'll let you start."

Lin Feng caught the ball, dribbled it a couple of times, and tried to get a feel for it.

The leather surface is slightly slippery, the air pressure is sufficient, and it makes a crisp sound when it bounces.

He looked up at Zhao Meng, who had already assumed a defensive stance, his center of gravity low and his arms outstretched.

"Are you sure you want me to go first?" Lin Feng asked.

"I'll let you go first, so you won't say I'm bullying you." Zhao Meng's voice wasn't too loud or too soft, but everyone around could hear it.

Lin Feng didn't say anything more and started dribbling.

Slowly advancing towards the three-point line, Zhao Meng pressed closer, pressing Lin Feng's waist with his arm to prevent him from getting close to the basket.

With his back to the basket, Lin Feng used his body to protect the ball, moved step by step to the free throw line, and suddenly turned around and shot a fadeaway jumper.

Zhao Meng reacted quickly, jumping to block the shot, his arm outstretched, his fingertips almost touching the ball.

However, Lin Feng leaned back at a great angle, his body almost at a 60-degree angle to the ground, and the ball swept past Zhao Meng's fingertips, drawing a high arc.

"Whoosh...!"

Hollow-core netting.

The entire venue fell silent for a moment, then erupted in cheers.

Liu Chengcheng was the first to shout, "Brother Feng is awesome!" Song Yan clapped, and Liu Jiaqi's lips curled up, her eyes shining. Zhang Wei suddenly yelled and jumped up, startling everyone around him.

The referee blew his whistle: "2-0. Lin Feng is in the lead."

Zhao Meng looked unwell, but he didn't say anything. He walked to the three-point line, took the ball, and switched the ball to attack.

He dribbled with great force, and the ball hit the ground with a "thump, thump" sound, like drumming.

He performed a few crossover dribbles, then suddenly accelerated past the defense. Lin Feng followed closely, but Zhao Meng's explosiveness was indeed very strong; with a change of direction and a spin move, he got past Lin Feng's defense.

He took two steps, then jumped and slammed the ball down with one hand.

"Bang……!"

The rim vibrated, and the ball bounced out of the net, tumbling a few times on the ground.

After landing, Zhao Meng stretched out a finger, raised it above his head, shouted at Lin Feng, and patted his chest like a gorilla in heat.

Another cheer erupted from the crowd, this time even louder. Zhao Meng's sports students were making a ruckus, some of them whistling.

The referee shouted, "2-2!"

Lin Feng looked at the arrogant Zhao Meng and shook his head with a smile.

He realized he hadn't played in a long time and was out of practice. His company used to hold frequent ball games, and he was the captain.

Lin Feng got the ball again, and Zhao Meng defended him even tighter this time, almost sticking to his body and not giving him any space to jump.

Lin Feng made a fake shot, but Zhao Meng didn't fall for it and kept his hand raised.

Seeing this, Lin Feng immediately pulled up for a three-pointer from the spot, took a step outside the three-point line, jumped, and released the shot.

The ball flies out with a high arc and a slow spin.

Zhao Meng didn't expect Lin Feng to make a move from so far away; he only had time to raise his hand to interfere.

He watched the ball fly over his head, land above the rim, bounce on the edge, and then roll into the basket.

"5 to 2".

Zhao Meng's face darkened.

He took the ball, dribbled it to the basket, and slammed it down again. This time, he didn't yell after the dunk; he picked up the ball and threw it to Lin Feng.

"5 to 4".

Lin Feng received the ball and stopped two steps beyond the three-point line. Zhao Meng was still inside the three-point line, sticking his backside out to defend. When he saw Lin Feng stop there, he hesitated for a moment, but Lin Feng didn't give him time to hesitate and shot directly.

Another long-range three-pointer.

This time it was a swish, and the sound of the ball swishing through the net was particularly crisp, like tearing a piece of paper.

"8 to 4".

The entire room fell silent.

It wasn't the kind of silence where you hold your breath; it was a genuine lack of words. Zhao Meng, 1.88 meters tall, was a sports recruit, yet he was riddled with bullets from the outside by a freshman in the civil engineering department.

Zhao Meng walked to the three-point line, received the ball, and his face was as black as an African's.

Raymond Lam crossed his arms, slightly raised his chin, and smiled, as if to say, "You shoot, I won't defend."

The audience booed. Not at Zhao Meng, but at Lin Feng—this guy was such a show-off.

Zhao Meng's lips twitched. For a sports student, this was a blatant insult.

Lin Feng crossed his arms and said calmly, "I'll let you win a point, so people won't say I'm bullying you."

This was a direct return of Zhao Meng's earlier contemptuous words.

Zhao Meng had just let him serve first, so he's giving the ball to the opponent now to prevent them from making excuses if they lose.

Zhao Meng took a deep breath and shot from beyond the three-point line.

A perfect three-pointer, and the ball went in.

8:7.

Lin Feng received the ball and dribbled it to the three-point line. Zhao Meng was ready to jump and block the shot. He kept his center of gravity low and his arms high, ready to jump at any moment.

He has figured out Lin Feng's playing style; it's just a matter of accurate shooting!

He expects it to be another three-pointer this time, and he's already prepared to block Lin Feng's shot.

Sure enough, Lin Feng made a shooting motion again, shrugged his shoulders, bent his knees slightly, and raised the ball with both hands.

Zhao Meng jumped decisively, soaring into the air with his arms outstretched and his body unfolding in mid-air.

But Lin Feng suddenly pulled the ball back. Taking advantage of Zhao Meng's jump, he dribbled forward rapidly, took wide strides, and suddenly pushed off the ground and leaped into the air, his whole body hovering in mid-air.

He leaned back slightly, his legs spread apart in the air, and with his right hand holding the ball, he spun it downwards, the basketball smoothly passing between his thighs and under his crotch, the movement fluid and seamless.

The wrist switch in mid-air is seamless, with a light twist of the wrist, followed by a smooth ball catch and arm raise, resulting in a graceful and extremely elegant posture.

The entire three-step layup was executed flawlessly, the ball lightly brushing the backboard before falling into the basket.

The referee blew his whistle: "10 to 7."

"The match is over."

"Lin Feng wins."

The entire hall fell silent for a moment, then erupted in enthusiastic applause.

Zhao Meng stood there, his chest heaving violently, not from exhaustion, but from anger.

He picked up the ball and slammed it hard on the ground. The ball bounced high into the air and almost hit one of the students watching nearby.

"You fucking try to play tricks on me? You're too scared to confront me head-on, so you resort to underhanded tactics?" Zhao Meng charged over, looking ready to fight.

Several people nearby and the referee quickly grabbed him. Zhao Meng struggled a couple of times but couldn't break free.

Lin Feng stood still, looking at him, his tone as calm as if he were talking to a kindergarten child.

"Did I foul? Who says basketball has to be a physical battle? If you lose, you have to accept it, and if you get hit, you have to stand up straight. Remember the bet? Call me bro."

Zhao Meng's face turned bright red, the veins on his temples bulged, and his lips trembled several times.

People around him were watching him. Some were watching the spectacle, some were clapping, and some were cheering, "Shout! Shout!"

Zhao Meng forced out a single word through gritted teeth: "Brother."

The sound was faint, as if it were being coaxed out of the throat.

Lin Feng frowned, put his hand to his ear, and pretended not to hear clearly: "Didn't you eat breakfast? Or are you shy? Your voice is as soft as a mosquito's buzz, I can't hear you."

Zhao Meng clenched his fists so tightly they cracked. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then called out, "Brother! Is that enough?"

The sound echoed across the basketball court. Lin Feng nodded in satisfaction, reached out and patted Zhao Meng's shoulder, a gesture neither too light nor too heavy, like an elder patting a younger person.

"Remember to call me 'brother' next time you see me. You may leave now."

Zhao Meng shook off his hand, turned around angrily, and left.