The day I was cut from the national team, I thought my badminton dream was over.
Then a [National Badminton Glory System] pulled me up from rock bottom.
Dynamic vision, instinctive anticipation, godlike smashes: every skill was more ridiculous than the last.
At the provincial team trials, I won all fifteen matches.
At the National Championships, I swept the national team’s top players.
At the All England Open, I won the title as a wildcard.
The badminton world went wild.
So did the women around me.
My childhood friend, the team doctor, brought me pork ribs every day, saying she wanted to help me build up my strength.
My tsundere mixed-doubles partner would argue with me, then blush as we kept bickering.
A gentle Malaysian beauty asked me to stroll around Shichahai and share a candied hawthorn skewer.
And then there were actresses, variety show hosts, and aloof stars...
They said I was the kind of guy people couldn’t help but hate.
I said, “Hate me?”
They called me a dark horse. I said I was the king of badminton.
I’m done pretending. I’m here to win the Grand Slam.
It's very good. It's a refreshing article. The author will update it quickly.