LRAB Chapter 147 Echizen Nanjiro, Young Man, You've Played Professionally
Chapter 147 Echizen Nanjiro, Young Man, You've Played Professionally
Wang Yueling looked in the direction of the sound.
A middle-aged man wearing a black monk's robe was walking this way.
His hair was messy, and he had a bluish stubble on his chin. His wooden clogs made a crisp "clattering" sound on the stone floor.
His monk's robe was wrinkled, and there was a small water stain on the collar. His hands were tucked into his sleeves, and his shoulders were slightly hunched. He looked like he had just gotten up from a reclining chair in the backyard of the temple, and he probably hadn't even washed his face.
As Wang Yueling looked at that face, several images flashed through her mind.
Magazine cover.
Sports news.
The U.S. Open in a documentary.
Echizen... Minamijiro.
He was once the first Asian male singles player to break into the world's top ten. He achieved a 37-match winning streak in professional open tournaments and was known in the media as the "unbeatable legend of Japanese tennis" during his prime.
He had also seen him play in documentaries, read his interviews in magazines, and seen countless people online hailing him as their "tennis mentor."
He was called a "once-in-a-century genius," said that he was "unrivaled at his peak," and that "if he hadn't retired so early, he would definitely have won a Grand Slam."
He suddenly announced his retirement before the final of the Open tournament, saying that he had "found something more important than tennis".
Later, he became a monk, spending his days at home betting on horse races, reading magazines, playing with his son, and occasionally going to the temple to ring the bell.
Wang Yueling had her hands in her pockets, her azure eyes showing little emotion.
It's not surprising, since Ryoma Echizen is here, how could his dad stay at home?
But seeing with his own eyes all those documentaries, magazine interviews, and online pronouncements about deification from his past life, he realized at this moment that they all transformed into a concrete, middle-aged man standing before him.
After those filters shattered, he felt a bit... indescribable.
It wasn't disappointment, but a very subtle feeling mixed with a sense of melancholy.
Echizen Nanjiro walked over to his son, glanced down at Karupin, and scratched the cat's chin. Then he looked up, his gaze falling on Mochizuki Ryo.
It lingered on his face for about two seconds.
Then, the laziness in those eyes faded a little.
It didn't disappear; it just took half a step back, revealing something more substantial underneath.
Wang Yueling was also looking at him.
The two looked at each other for a moment.
It wasn't long, but it was enough for Yukimura next to him to feel that there was something indescribable in the air.
It wasn't the smell of gunpowder, but a quieter kind of probing that only those who have stood at the same level can perceive.
Wang Yueling's posture remained unchanged; his shoulders were still relaxed, his hands were still in his pockets, and he even lightly tapped the ground with his toes. But his gaze had become more profound, like ice forming on the sea—calm on the surface, but weighing down with unexpected weight.
Echizen Nanjiro withdrew the hand that was scratching the cat and put it back into his sleeve. He tilted his head, looked Mochizuki Ryo up and down, and then clicked his tongue softly.
The boy in front of me stood very straight, but relaxed and composed.
He had seen that kind of suppressed power beneath the relaxed exterior.
On the world stage, among the top players.
He had it during his peak, but it faded after he retired, though I still remember it.
"Blonde kid, you've played professionally before?"
Wang Yueling's lips curved slightly, the curve was small, but it carried an indescribable meaning.
"no."
"You haven't played a single game?"
"We haven't won a single game."
Echizen Nanjiro stared at his smile for a few seconds, then laughed out loud, with a hint of excitement at meeting a worthy opponent.
"interesting."
As he spoke, he pulled his hand out of his sleeve, scratched his chin, and said, "Where did you get this aura from? It couldn't have just fallen from the sky, could it?"
Wang Yueling didn't answer the question; he simply pulled his hand out of his pocket and straightened his collar. The movement was so slow that you could see the curve of each joint of his fingers bending.
"Senior, you've played in the World Championship, haven't you?"
Echizen Nanjiro raised an eyebrow, surprised that he would ask this. He scratched his chin, his tone still the same as always, "We fought, back when we were young."
"Thinking back now, it's been almost ten years."
"Ten years." Wang Yueling repeated the number, her tone flat. "I haven't seen you perform live during your peak years. I've watched quite a few recordings, though."
"Oh?" Echizen Nanjiro raised an eyebrow. "So, what do you think of me at my peak?"
Wang Yueling looked at him, her azure eyes reflecting his nonchalant face.
How about it?!
He mentally went over the question.
Very strong.
Top-tier talent.
Comprehensive technology.
In the Japanese tennis world of that era, it was truly a unique existence.
But that's how it is.
He had watched those videos, more than once.
He had watched all of Echizen Nanjiro's matches carefully in this life. Using the experience and understanding from both lives to judge them, the conclusions he reached were completely different from when he watched the spectacle in his previous life.
But based on those match videos and statistics, this person is at best only among the top five to top eight in the world.
Pretty strong.
But it's far from being "invincible".
It's far from being a "crushing Grand Slam".
All that hype, all that myth, all that talk about "if he continues playing, he'll definitely win a Grand Slam" is nothing more than romantic imagination about possibilities that people haven't even seen.
But the truth is...
He withdrew from the U.S. Open Championship final.
Not because of an injury, not because of anything happening at home, but simply because some "new meaning" has been found?!
Why didn't he have an epiphany in the first 37 games? And then in the last game, he said he had a new goal and wasn't going to play anymore. Don't you think that's a bit ridiculous?
If he truly understands the essence of his so-called "joyful tennis," he should experience that "joy" himself, instead of transferring that "joy" to his son's future.
If the championship isn't important, then he could just let his son play ball at home instead of having to play that position.
He was just one step away from reaching the top of the world, yet he insisted on teaching his son from scratch, guiding him down the same path to the same height.
Isn't that a problem?
If you can't do it, why can your son?!
Therefore, in Mochizuki Ryo's view, Echizen Nanjiro's withdrawal from the finals was not a romantic choice, but rather a complete cowardice.
In his previous life, he had seen the true world's best.
He'd played exhibition matches with Federer, practiced with Nadal, and chatted with Djokovic in the locker room. He knew what people at the top of the pyramid were like—their training intensity, their competitive mentality, and their professional attitude.
True professional players will not back down before the most important match.
It's not because I don't want to, it's because I can't.
The desire for victory, the pursuit of honor, the responsibility to the team, and the respect for the opponent.
These things will push you onto the field.
Even knowing that they might lose.
In his previous life, the year he won the Australian Open Grand Slam, he strained his thigh muscle before the final, and the pain was so intense that he was shaking when he walked.
The coach advised him to withdraw from the competition, saying, "There will be another chance next year."
He didn't listen.
It wasn't because he wasn't afraid of pain, but because he knew this was the closest he'd ever come to a Grand Slam. If he withdrew this time, he might regret it for the rest of his life.
He won in the end.
After winning, I cried for ten minutes in the locker room, not because I was moved, but because I was in pain.
This is how he understands a professional player.
It's not about running away, it's about perseverance.
It's not giving up, it's fighting to the death.
He accomplished what Echizen Nanjiro couldn't. He gambled on what Echizen Nanjiro dared not gamble on. He obtained what Echizen Nanjiro gave up.
In his view, the reason why Echizen Nanjiro chose to leave at his peak was to keep the suspense at its highest point. That way, everyone would say, "If he were still fighting, he would definitely win."
What a smart choice.
Wang Yueling kept these words to herself and did not say them aloud.
To be precise, it's that I don't want to talk about it.
He wasn't familiar with this person, so there was no need for him to spill everything out. Besides, he was here to accompany Seiichi to the art exhibition, not to debate "what constitutes the responsibility of a professional player."
So he just smiled and said, "Very strong. Stronger than all the current Japanese players."
This is true.
But he didn't say the second half of the sentence.
Being better than the current competitors doesn't mean being better than yourself in your past life.
Echizen Nanjiro sensed the reservation in his words, but did not press the matter. Instead, he shifted his gaze from Mochizuki Ryo to the blue-purple-haired boy next to him.
He had been standing half a step behind the blond boy the whole time, without saying a word. He was very relaxed, but his presence was very strong.
She is indeed good-looking, with fair skin and a quiet demeanor, like an art student.
But Echizen Nanjiro noticed that his position was quite interesting... he was standing just behind and to the side of the boy in front of him, neither too far nor too close, neither obstructing the view nor appearing out of place.
It's not the distance between ordinary friends; it's a natural intimacy that doesn't require deliberate maintenance.
Moreover, the way he looked at the blond boy wasn't like a teammate looking at a teammate, nor like a junior looking at a senior.
It's that kind of look... how should I put it, it's the kind of look you give someone when you think it's perfectly normal for them to do anything.
Echizen Nanjiro saw this and a slight smile appeared on his lips.
"Who is this?"
"Yukimura Seiichi." Mochizuki Ryo stepped aside, making way for Yukimura behind him, her tone softening slightly. "Captain of Rikkai University's tennis club."
"Rikkai University?" Echizen Nanjiro thought for a moment. "Oh, the one that won the Kanto championship for over ten years and the national championship the last two years?"
"Yes." Yukimura nodded slightly, his tone gentle and polite. "Does senpai know about our school?"
"I know, I know." Echizen Nanjiro waved his hand, his tone incredibly casual. "I played against your school's coach when I was young. Is that old man still coaching?"
"You mean...?"
"I forgot his name." Echizen Nanjiro scratched his head. "Anyway, he was a very talkative old man from about ten years ago. After the fight, he insisted on treating me to a meal. I said no, but he said no, so I ended up eating three bowls of rice."
Yukimura couldn't help but smile slightly.