Anyone approaching the tennis court would have witnessed a bizarre sight: two young women, a burly man, and a panda, all standing there dazedly, their heads swiveling left and right with unnerving regularity. This had been going on for over ten minutes, and it showed no signs of stopping.
It couldn’t be helped. The rally between Shen Yibin and Bernanke had simply gone on for that long. Shen Yibin didn’t have any advanced techniques; he could only steadily return the ball over the net. Bernanke, on the other hand, was desperately trying to end the point. But no matter what powerful moves he pulled, Shen Yibin would return the ball. And Shen Yibin’s returns were so easy that Bernanke couldn’t even throw the point if he tried. Thus, this single point had been at a stalemate for over ten minutes.
"I think Bernanke is about to lose this point," Katrina said, breaking the courtside silence. As the other three looked her way, she rubbed her sore neck. "Bernanke’s footwork is getting slower and slower. Honestly, if Mr. Bin’s returns weren’t landing so close every time, he probably wouldn’t be able to keep up."
"Mr. Bin’s stamina is incredible. Look, he’s been playing this long and hasn’t slowed down one bit," Ryan chimed in. Shen Yibin’s daily runs around the lake with Shi Gaofei had not been for nothing. His endurance was far superior to Bernanke’s. He’d even won a marathon; what was this paltry amount of exercise in comparison?
"A moment ago, I was lamenting that Mr. Bin didn’t take up tennis earlier. Now, it seems it’s a great blessing for the tennis world that he didn’t," Bianca said with a shrug. "I doubt any broadcasting company would want to see every match last for over ten hours. And the tournament committee would surely hate having their schedule dragged out."
A typical tennis match is over in two or three hours. The Isner-Mahu match lasted eleven hours and five minutes, forcing the organizers to extend it over three days. If Shen Yibin played competitively, perhaps every match would be that long. Wouldn’t that triple the length of a tournament? And what would be the appeal of watching something like that? The audience would probably be yawning in the stands. So, aside from businesses that sell neck massagers, no one would appreciate a tennis player like Shen Yibin. Letting him into a Grand Slam would be a catastrophe for the sport.
"That assumes you could even find enough players with that kind of stamina," Ryan countered. "I bet most of Shen Yibin’s opponents would just forfeit out of sheer despair."
"How much longer do you think Bernanke can last?" Katrina asked, clutching her stomach. "I’m already hungry again. All I want is to go back to the hotel and get something to eat." This one point had gone on for so long that she’d already burned through her entire dinner.
"Ten dollars says it’s over in five minutes. I don’t think Bernanke can take much more," Ryan said, pulling out a bill featuring the face of Alexander Hamilton.
"Three minutes!" Bianca countered. Katrina, however, had a little more faith in Bernanke and wagered ten minutes. Unfortunately, all three were wrong. Bernanke managed to hold on for a full fifteen minutes before he finally collapsed, allowing Shen Yibin’s return to bonk him on the head.
"It’s finally over! A single point took half an hour! I wonder if that’s a world record!" the three spectators sighed in unison. Any longer and their necks might have snapped.
"I’m getting a massage when we get back, otherwise I won’t be able to lay my head on a pillow tonight," Katrina declared. Bianca and Ryan voiced their wholehearted agreement.
"We should go check on Bernanke. He probably can’t even walk," Ryan said, striding over. "I’ll call the hotel and have them send a car. And tell them to get a therapeutic masseuse ready. Bernanke’s going to need it." The best tennis player in their organization had collapsed from exhaustion on the court. If Ryan hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed it.
"Need a hand?" Shen Yibin asked, walking over. His breathing was so even it looked like he could have played for a few more hours without breaking a sweat. Both Ryan and a prone Bernanke were rendered speechless. ’What kind of monster is he?’
"Hey, do you think Mr. Bin has this much stamina in... other areas?" Katrina suddenly whispered into Bianca’s ear. A blush crept across both of their faces at the same time.
After getting Bernanke back to the hotel and making sure everyone was alright, Shen Yibin decided to take his leave. "I should get going. See you all tomorrow!" He took a couple of steps toward the door, then suddenly turned back. "By the way, tennis is a really fun sport! If we have time tomorrow, let’s play again!"
CRASH! Bernanke, who had just managed to struggle to his feet, staggered at the words and collapsed back onto the floor, knocking over a nearby decoration. ’Waaaaah, why did I ever suggest playing tennis today? Mr. Bin, you’ve destroyed my love for the game!’
"Uh, Hah’Er, what’s wrong with him? Didn’t he have fun just now?" Shen Yibin asked Hah’Er innocently. Hah’Er didn’t understand either and could only shake its head to show it had no idea.
He took the car arranged by Director Kong back to the store. By this time, the store had closed for the day. The girls had finished dinner and gone about their own business, leaving only Cheeky, Xiaoliu, and Maphario roughhousing boredly in the main hall. The moment they saw Shen Yibin, they seemed to find a new target and immediately swarmed him.
"CHEEP! CHEEP!" Without a word, Xiaoliu tossed the bamboo branch over and limped toward their usual spot. Today’s practice session had yet to begin.
"We still have to practice today?!" Shen Yibin grumbled. But after the day’s events, he wasn’t so opposed to the training anymore. In fact, he wanted to practice a little longer so he could completely dominate Bernanke on the court tomorrow.
"Hmph!" Hah’Er perked up and hurried after them. Cheeky was even more full of hot air, boasting that he was going to show Shen Yibin a thing or two.
"CHEEP! CHEEP!" But today seemed to be a little different. Once they reached the spot, Xiaoliu didn’t have Shen Yibin start practicing. Instead, it stood in the center of the training area itself and motioned for Hah’Er to throw fruit at it.
"Hmph!" Without hesitation, Hah’Er picked up an apple and tossed it over. But Xiaoliu didn’t swing at it like before. Instead, it held the bamboo branch level and, with a SWISH, thrust it forward. The tip of the branch pierced the apple right through the center, skewering it perfectly.
"CHEEP!" Xiaoliu pointed to the skewered apple, then pointed at Shen Yibin. The message was clear: it was his turn to try.