Love is as simple as badminton.

Chapter 6 The past is the past, the present is the present!

"Old Xu, what were you trying to say just now?"

Seeing that Xu Yue was not moving, Lin Xiang nudged him with his elbow.

"I said... never mind, I shouldn't have said it."

Xu Yue was speechless and choked with emotion, then slapped himself.

A thousand words stuck in my throat, condensed into three words—

"You bastard!"

"..."

Lin Xiang thought Xu Yue was a bit of a pro, probably from playing the card game "Three Kingdoms Kill".

"Junior, I'm done! The students on duty have arrived, they'll take care of the rest."

As Shi Yuqi spoke, she placed the large plastic bag she was carrying in her left hand in front of Lin Xiang. Inside were only bottles of hydrating drinks. "You've worked hard, please have some water!"

"Thank you, senior."

Lin Xiang accurately selected his favorite lime flavor from among the various flavors and unscrewed the cap.

Unfortunately, it's "thank you for your patronage" again... Everyone says this drink has a high winning rate, but he doesn't seem to have won many times, which is quite strange.

"You're all new students at the Sociology Department, right?"

Shi Yuqi then handed the plastic bags to the others, saying, "Please take them yourselves, it's just a small token, don't be shy!"

"Wow, thank you, Senior Poetry!"

"Senior, you're so generous! May you make a fortune!"

"Senior is so awesome!"

The freshmen praised their senior sister while accepting gifts.

Of course, everyone's smart enough to know that this was probably because of Lin Xiang.

So, regardless of gender, the way people looked at him carried a sense of "Having drifted through half a lifetime, you still do not abandon me..."

Xu Yue, who had just been spouting nonsense, immediately changed his tune and started calling him "godfather" again. To show his loyalty, he even specially picked out a lime-flavored bottle, which made everyone burst into laughter.

As it turns out, the winning rate of the "Replenish Water" lottery is indeed very high—except for Lin Xiang, five out of the six people won the one-yuan prize.

"Sigh, why am I always the one who gets hurt?"

Xu Yue, clutching the bottle cap that read "Thank you for your patronage," squatted on the ground drawing circles, looking dejected.

"Could it be a lime-flavored curse? Oh, heavens, how cruel you are to me..."

"I'm also lime-flavored, haha. If you're not good at things, don't blame the road for being uneven."

Zhao Hao shoved Xu Yue aside. "Senior, is the sign-in for the School of Social Sciences looking for you?"

"Yes, it's my responsibility! I've already signed you all in."

Shi Yuqi handed a bucket of activity balls to Zhao Hao, saying, "Everyone can go play right away. No need to wait until nine o'clock. The sooner you play, the sooner you can enjoy it."

"Thank you so much, senior!"

Zhao Hao glanced at Lin Xiang. "Have you guys been playing for a while already?"

"It's not a game."

Lin Xiang stopped drinking water and corrected him seriously, "It's training."

"That's right, that's right!"

Shi Yuqi smiled and immediately chimed in, "I want to improve, so please give me some guidance, junior!"

"Then I won't bother you two any longer. I'll take everyone to have some fun."

Zhao Hao tactfully ended the conversation, patted Lin Xiang on the shoulder as he left, and nodded with a gratified expression, like a father who had watched his son grow up.

"Well done, keep it up!"

He whispered, giving a thumbs up.

"Yes."

Lin Xiang nodded and gave him a thumbs up in return.

Most people just want the thrill of playing, not the tedium of practice. Amateur players like this senior student, willing to make time to improve, are indeed very rare.

That's what true passion is.

They take their interests so seriously; no wonder they became self-reliant role models.

Zhao Hao was also a badminton player, and he must have been inspired by his senior's shining character, which is why he expressed his approval to himself as her coach at this moment.

Yes, he also likes ambitious people.

"Next up is the high clear, the last training session of the day."

"Is it also in groups of fifty?"

"No. Play 500 in a row without rest in between. When you return to your starting position after hitting the ball, find your own rhythm to rest and relax."

"Okay, let's begin!"

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Sunlight streamed in through the windows, gradually brightening the stadium.

The sounds of balls hitting the shuttlecock mingled together, filled with the unique vitality of the morning, stirring the heart.

The sound of the ball is the skill of the ball.

A good-sounding shot is a good shot!

"Smack."

"Don't swing your upper arm; focus on the feeling of your forearm internally rotating."

"Whoosh—"

"I'm feeling better. It's okay if I can't hit the ball; I'll focus on getting a feel for generating power."

*Smack!*

"That shot is good. But the arc needs to be higher, otherwise it'll easily go out of bounds."

Lin Xiang gave instructions while returning the ball.

His swing was effortless, the movements slow and relaxed; yet the ball he hit was high and far, with a beautiful triangular trajectory, only beginning to fall vertically near the baseline.

The sound of the ball hitting the ground is crisp, powerful, and penetrating.

In comparison, Shi Yuqi on the other side was slightly inferior; her shots were a bit too light and the ball speed was much slower.

The sound wasn't "pa, pa, pa," but rather "tap, tap, tap."

However, under Lin Xiang's tutelage, she has shown a visible improvement compared to herself in the morning.

At least there were very few more half-high balls that were easy to score; all of them flew over the first baseline.

For amateur players, this is already a very good quality return shot.

The freshmen from the college on the next court were taking a halftime break when they heard the exciting sounds and turned to look.

"Wow, that's a real expert!"

Hao Wenmin gave a thumbs up, "We've already finished a game, and he hasn't even finished a single point yet, that's amazing..."

"And Lin Xiang's playing style is really loud."

Chen Zi gave him a Waku-like look, her big eyes sparkling, "His ball flies so far, it only drops straight down after reaching the baseline! I can't hit a ball like that!"

"Who's better, you or Lin Xiang?"

Gu Qingqing asked her partner Zhao Hao in a low voice.

Zhao Hao is basically the king of this court; whoever he teams up with wins. Plus, he can jump and smash the ball with a very stylish form. Therefore, in everyone's mind, "better than Zhao Hao" has become the standard for judging a top player.

"I'll hit Lin Xiang?"

Zhao Hao then made the same expression as Benboerba.

"Is it possible that Lin Xiang can decide how many points I want to get, and I can get that many points?"

"Wow, really?"

"Lin Xiang is so amazing!"

"He's too strong..."

With expert Zhao Hao's endorsement, the girls looked at Lin Xiang with even greater awe.

"I think it's just so-so..."

Xu Yue pouted, looking somewhat unconvinced.

That bastard! Not only did he hook up with Senior Poetry, but he also flirted with so many other girls remotely. He's absolutely despicable.

"His moves... I could do that too!"

"That's just bragging."

Hao Wenmin, a fellow villager and classmate, sneered coldly, "Others may not know, but I do! You're all right."

"Don't underestimate me! The past is the past, the present is the present!"

Xu Yue rolled up his sleeves. "Old Zhao, serve me a ball, and I'll show you guys something!"

"Just don't swing your racket at me."

Zhao Hao complained, but still served him a high clear.

"Watch closely!"

Xu Yue took a step back, took a deep breath, and swung his arm in a wide arc like he was wielding a knife. At that moment, everyone's eyes were on him, and he felt like the protagonist in a novel about to stage a comeback.

"Whoosh—!"

The shuttlecock landed silently, and the racket was swung with a sharp whistling sound.

"Smack!!!"

Then, it struck Xu Yue's thigh.

Talking Tom's scream echoed throughout the stadium, followed by laughter from male and female students, filling the stadium with a joyful atmosphere.

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