Chapter 73: An Away Game That Feels Like Home!

Back at school.

The list of competing schools for the second match of the third round of the online Teacher’s Cup had already been released. This time, Qingshui No.1 High School was playing away, facing the Provincial Experimental High School of Huangnan Province, the strongest basketball team in the region. According to online rankings, Qingshui No.1 currently held first place in South China, with Huangnan Provincial Experimental trailing at second. In other words, if Qingshui No.1 could secure a win in this match, their path forward would be all but assured.

Because of this, fans of Qingshui No.1 in Lingnan City were paying close attention to the upcoming game. Even though it was an away match, they were determined to support their team with all their might.

Lin Nan’s fans spontaneously organized a support club and fan group online. The president of the support club was Li Chuan, a wealthy young man who had admired Iverson for years. Lin Nan’s similar playing style had inspired Li Chuan to become his devoted fan. On a regular basis, Li Chuan sponsored various basketball events and tournaments in Lingnan City, and the city’s vibrant basketball atmosphere owed much to his generosity.

This time, Li Chuan announced the first mission for Lin Nan’s fans: to secure tickets. He recruited volunteers from the fan group to take shifts around the clock, each trying to snatch up tickets as soon as they became available. Li Chuan would cover all costs himself—however many tickets they could get, he would pay for them.

The match between Qingshui No.1 and the Provincial Experimental High would be held at Huangnan Sports Arena—the largest and finest basketball venue in the province, which also served as the local CBA team’s home court and could seat 5,000 spectators. With the start of the third round of the National High School Basketball League, the matches were growing ever more exciting, as they pitted the best teams from each city against one another. Naturally, every game was ticketed and attracted sponsors.

Advertisers who had initially hesitated were now scrambling to get involved, exactly as Lin Lang had predicted. The Chinese passion for basketball and football is immense: even in the domestic Super League, every city has its own fan base, and stadiums are often half full or more for every match. The only problem was that the players’ abilities couldn’t keep up with the fans’ enthusiasm.

Lin Lang was certain that if China ever produced a player whose football skills matched even eighty percent—or just half—of Cristiano Ronaldo’s, their commercial value would far surpass his own, simply because the Chinese market was so enormous. Yao Ming’s status in Chinese basketball was proof enough. Yet, for now, fans were eager to spend money but had nowhere to spend it.

Lin Lang felt a hint of helplessness about this. In his previous life, Chinese football had not seen any real change until he was well into old age. But with his understanding of basketball, he believed he could dramatically improve the game’s quality and environment in just a few years. As for football, he admitted his lack of expertise and could only try to create a national high school league similar to basketball’s. For everything else, he believed in professional specialization and the importance of learning from those who know better. If he ever met someone devoted to advancing Chinese football, he would gladly use his resources to support them.

Li Chuan was exactly the kind of person willing to pour resources into basketball.

So, when Monday’s ticket sale approached, members of the Qingshui fan group were already glued to their computers by eleven o’clock the night before.

When the clock struck twelve, thousands frantically clicked the “buy ticket” button, their fingers nearly breaking from the effort. Out of five thousand tickets, they managed to secure over three thousand, each at an average price of a hundred yuan. That meant Li Chuan spent over three hundred thousand, and he did so willingly. The others in the fan group, knowing Li Chuan’s generosity, left the ticket costs to him. Instead, some bought team jerseys, others covered travel expenses, and one even brought a drum to cheer for Qingshui No.1 on site.

People in Huangnan Province had no idea that the majority of tickets had been bought up by fans from Lingnan City. Only a few regulars, who attended every game, noticed something odd when they failed to get tickets themselves, but they didn’t think much of it.

When the weekend arrived, the Qingshui No.1 basketball team woke at dawn, had breakfast in the cafeteria, and headed to the school gate to board a luxurious coach bus rented specially by Principal Zheng Zemin. Since they had to cross the provincial border, the ride would take several hours. If they advanced to the finals, they might have to fly to the capital, but all the official arrangements would be handled for them, so they had no worries.

As soon as they boarded, everyone marveled at how thoughtful Principal Zheng was. The forty-seat luxury bus carried only seventeen people—the fifteen team members, the coach, and the driver. The seats had already been adjusted into reclining positions, fifteen of them set up as loungers. The message was clear: Principal Zheng wanted everyone to rest well and be fully energized for the game.

Coach Xingxing took a seat and grinned, saying, “What are you waiting for, gentlemen? Find a spot and lie down!” The players laughed, picked their seats, and obediently closed their eyes for a nap. They knew today’s opponent was their strongest yet in this third round.

When Coach Xingxing woke them, the bus was already entering the city and nearing the arena. He said to the now wide-awake team, “This is your first away game. The crowd will be cheering for the other side, and you might even get booed during free throws. Just stay calm, play your usual game, and you’ll have no trouble winning.” Everyone nodded. In truth, Coach Xingxing wasn’t too worried, since both Lin Nan and Zhao Zhongshi—the team’s twin pillars—had nerves of steel and had never shown a hint of anxiety.

Soon, they arrived at the arena’s parking lot and smoothly entered the locker room, where the officials had already laid out their lunch. The players ate, rested, then moved to the changing room to prepare for warm-ups. Today, their uniforms were black, while the home team wore white.

When Lin Nan donned his black No. 2 jersey and stepped onto the court, he noticed that the stands were filled with about equal numbers of black and white shirts. He didn’t dwell on it, focusing instead on layups and jump shot drills.

With both teams warmed up, and the game about to begin, the stands were packed.

Wang Jinsong looked around in surprise. “Why do I feel like there are more spectators in black than in white? Aren’t we the away team today?”

No one answered; everyone assumed it was just a trick of the eye.

But when the opening tip-off sounded, both sets of fans began to cheer. The Provincial Experimental supporters chanted, “Go, Huangnan!” while Qingshui No.1’s fans shouted, “Let’s go, Lingnan!”

This time, the latter’s voices drowned out the former.

Most striking of all was a burly man in the front row of the black-shirted section, a drum in front of him, pounding out a powerful, rhythmic beat with two mallets. The black-clad fans chanted “Go, Lingnan!” in perfect time with each drumbeat. Gradually, the Lingnan side’s enthusiasm completely overpowered Huangnan’s.

“No wonder I’m proud to be from Lingnan! Even at an away game, we’ve taken over the home court!” The people of Lingnan watching on TV could hardly contain their laughter. Meanwhile, the home fans in Huangnan fidgeted in frustration, ashamed and powerless. “Damn, those Lingnan folks are sly, buying up so many tickets! We really let our guard down.”

As the National High School Basketball League progressed, the distinction between home and away games had transformed these matches into battles between cities. After all, a high school team’s journey into the league represented not just their school, but their city and even their province. From the very start, Lingnan seemed to have the upper hand in this contest against Huangnan.

The spectacle was a warning to fans in every other city watching the game: when it’s your turn to host, don’t let your guard down, or you’ll lose face.

“One thing’s for sure—it’s Lin Nan and Zhao Zhongshi’s personal charisma that’s made Qingshui No.1 so popular!” a basketball enthusiast watching the livestream said to his friend. “It’s got to be one of Lin Nan’s wealthy superfans behind this. Only Lin Nan and Wang Shiying have that kind of pull—no one else could inspire this kind of fan action.”

“This match is as good as won for Qingshui No.1. We can pretty much say they’ve clinched a spot in the Final Four.”

Just as this fan predicted, the Qingshui No.1 players were galvanized by the home-like energy of their away crowd. Their morale soared, and they played with unrelenting aggression on both ends of the court. With such passionate support from their fans, how could they not give it their all?

Full-court pressure, tight man-to-man defense, quick steals, pick-and-rolls, off-ball movement, jump shots, and scores!

Under Lin Nan’s control, Qingshui No.1 dictated the pace entirely. By contrast, the Provincial Experimental players had all the skill and fundamentals, but on court they looked scattered and disorganized, utterly out of rhythm. The only sound in their ears was “Go Lingnan!” rather than “Go Huangnan!” That single word’s difference weighed on these young players like a thousand tons, draining their confidence until they could barely play at half their usual level.

It’s not an exaggeration—competitive sports are like this. Studies show that morale has a huge impact on a team’s outcome, and the home-court advantage increases the chance of winning by twenty percent. Even battle-hardened professionals are affected, let alone these high school kids.

It’s like the school sports meet: in a 3,000-meter race, a trailing boy suddenly surges ahead to win first place, inspired by a cheer from a girl in the crowd. That’s the magic of morale.

At this moment, Provincial Experimental was like a solitary runner on a deserted track, growing weaker with every lap. Their coach was stunned to see his meticulously crafted tactics fall apart for such a reason, but he knew it wasn’t the fault of his players. He called several time-outs in the first quarter, but nothing seemed to help.

Throughout the game, as the steady beat of that black-clad drummer’s instrument filled the air, Qingshui No.1 marched to victory in the second match of the third round.