Super Doctor - Chapter 41

The resentment wasn’t just coming from Luo Zi. When the team saw Xu Ze without his glasses, more than a few eyebrows shot up—some in surprise, others in envy.

Their surprise came from how much Xu Ze’s appearance had changed after ditching the thick frames. The envy? Well, if this guy kept improving at this rate, combined with his sharp new look, Zhang Tianyu—the so-called “Basketball Prince” of their sophomore year—might just lose his crown. And if Xu Ze could maintain this momentum while syncing with the team, leading them to the finals? He’d be the first in two years with a real shot at stealing that title.

Under Luo Zi’s direction, the team split into two squads for a scrimmage. Xu Ze and Luo Zi were, of course, on the starting lineup alongside shooting guard Zhang Ziyang, power forward Li Tianbao, and point guard Jiang Bo.

Lately, Xu Ze had been running plenty of two-on-two drills with Jiang Bo and Li Tianbao, so their chemistry was solid. The only wild card was Zhang Ziyang. Luo Zi’s biggest worry was the lingering tension between him and Xu Ze—bad blood could wreck team dynamics. But Zhang Ziyang was one of Clinical Medicine’s top scorers. They couldn’t afford to bench him.

To Luo Zi’s relief, though, Zhang Ziyang kept his personal grudges off the court. When his own shots weren’t falling, he still dished the ball to Xu Ze if he had a better angle—no forced attempts, no ego plays.

Xu Ze noticed it too, and it threw him off a little. The occasional flicker of resentment in Zhang Ziyang’s eyes made it clear the guy still couldn’t stand him. Maybe he was just biting his tongue for the team’s sake.

Either way, as long as Zhang Ziyang kept passing, Xu Ze wasn’t about to overthink it. His job was to play hard—nothing more.

Li Tianbao dribbled past half-court, then snapped a crisp pass to Xu Ze. A quick crossover, a defender left stumbling, and Xu Ze was at the rim. He bent his knees slightly, sprang up, and—swish—laid the ball in just as the halftime buzzer sounded.

Luo Zi checked the stat sheet from their makeshift referee and grinned.

After two quarters, the starters were up by 18—46 to 28. As for Xu Ze? Fourteen shots, eight buckets, 17 points. Six assists, two steals, even a pair of rebounds. Not bad for a rookie. His synergy with the team was sharp, his reactions lightning-fast. Sure, he’d racked two fouls, but Luo Zi wasn’t complaining.

With numbers like these, a little more practice, and this guy could single-handedly patch up Clinical Medicine’s weak spots. Barring disasters, making the quarterfinals was a lock. Hell, a podium finish wasn’t out of the question.

The rest of the team was finally seeing what Xu Ze brought to the table. The bench players, especially, were struggling to contain him. His shooting percentage? Consistently lethal.

Xu Ze, though, wasn’t patting himself on the back. With Tao Jun’s experience and Bond’s brutal training drills, anything less would’ve been embarrassing.

The scrimmage also gave him a clear read on his teammates. Zhang Ziyang, true to his role as shooting guard, was no slouch—eleven shots, five makes, 12 points. Solid.

Luo Zi, their center, went eight-for-four with nine points and six boards.

Point guard Jiang Bo and power forward Li Tianbao meshed well too, setting up plays and locking down defense in ways that made Xu Ze’s job easy.

Twenty minutes of high-intensity ball hadn’t winded him much. A quick towel-off, a couple gulps of water, and his breathing steadied. He and Luo Zi debriefed some minor slip-ups, then the referee’s whistle blew again.

Xu Ze was about to jog back when his phone rang from the sidelines. Unknown number. He frowned but answered.

“Xu Ze?” A familiar, bright voice.

Recognition clicked. He smiled. “Feeling better?”

“Mm-hmm. Much.” Sun Lingfei’s laugh was sweet. “Thanks for the congee this morning.”

“You’re sick. Least I could do.”

Luo Zi’s voice cut in from the court, impatient. Xu Ze winced. “Hey, sorry—I’m in the middle of a game. Can I call you back?”

“A game?” Curiosity tinted her tone. “Basketball?”

“Yeah.”

“Which court?”

“Dorm area, Court Six.”

“Court Six… Got it. Go on, then.” The line went dead.

Xu Ze tossed his phone aside and sprinted back. Ten guys were waiting on him.

The third quarter was another massacre. Now fully dialed in, Xu Ze dropped six points in five minutes.

The one-sided beatdown started drawing eyes from nearby courts. Regulars who’d seen Xu Ze around but never in action were stunned.

“Since when did Clinical Medicine get a ringer?”

“Dude’s a beast. They might actually have a shot this year.”

By the fourth quarter, exhaustion had set in for everyone—except Xu Ze. While the others wheezed and staggered, he kept slicing through defenses like they were standing still.

“How is he still this fresh?!”

The murmurs cut off abruptly as a new figure appeared courtside.

Sun Lingfei.

“Wait—Sun Lingfei? Since when does she come to campus?”

“And why’s she watching Clinical Medicine? Shouldn’t she be over at Journalism or Performing Arts?”