Chapter Thirty-Nine: Formation and Recruitment (Part Two)

“Hush... Lao... Cai, do you... have any idea what... this guy... really wants from us?”
Inside the gymnasium, Wang Lei had barely finished his speech before immediately kicking off the first day’s training. To the surprise of these college basketball players, the stylish former national team player and now head coach began with an old-fashioned warm-up—running laps. What puzzled them even more was the sheer number of laps he demanded.

These college athletes were used to training with their university teams. Even when it involved running laps, it was usually just twenty rounds around the court as a warm-up. Yet this young, perhaps overzealous Coach Wang started them off with fifty laps—almost five kilometers in total. While all athletes, their usual routines focused on ball drills, strength, and contact training; such intensive endurance work was rare.

As they made their rounds, two players from the same university exchanged breathless whispers.

“How would I know? I’m not Wang,”
It was clear the one who started the conversation was also surnamed Wang.

“Hey, Lao Cai, why do you... seem so relaxed? I’m... dying here.”
Compared to the Wang lad, who was just over 1.8 meters tall, the one called Lao Cai stood well above two meters—a height that made him the team’s natural center.

“Come on, you’re the one dying, not me. I used to be a distance runner before I shot up in height and had to quit.”
“Hell, maybe this Wang guy... is a fraud. All he does... is train that white-haired kid over there.”

“Quiet. Another word and you’ll run ten more laps.”
Their secret conversation didn’t escape the sharp eye of Xue Yongjiang. Wang Lei had set an unusual rule: when one made a mistake, the entire team suffered the consequences.

Wang Lei hadn’t made Turgen join the rest for endurance training. Turgen had arrived earlier than the others, and with the help of Aili and Liu Shi, had completed his basic physical assessment. The results showed Turgen’s overall fitness was lacking, making it unwise for him to jump straight into strenuous drills. So Wang Lei set him a regimen that balanced ball skills with gradual physical conditioning.

Wang Lei also took care to correct Turgen’s bad habits during ball drills, but he didn’t force him to follow any prescribed moves. Instead, he encouraged Turgen to find the motions that felt most comfortable and natural.

By the time the fifty laps were done, every player was left gasping for breath. Those with weaker stamina, like the Wang lad from before, were close to collapsing.

Wang Lei instructed Turgen to practice shooting on his own, then turned to address the group of university players who were now sprawled about in exhaustion.

“Feeling tired? Think running laps is too old-school?”
“Yes!”
To his surprise, the answer came directly from the towering Cai, whose fitness was second to none.

Cai Aihong had an unusual name—many assumed at first it belonged to a girl, but the truth was his mother’s surname was Hong, and his father, in a romantic gesture, had combined the names for their son. Despite the feminine connotation, Cai Aihong was headstrong and tough. In his mind, these laps were a waste of time. He was here to play basketball, not just build endurance.

“A professional player—even in the lower leagues—runs more than five kilometers in a game if he’s on the court for about thirty minutes. And you all know how grueling those sprints up and down the basketball court can be.”
Wang Lei wasn’t angered by Cai’s bluntness. He knew he had no authority yet over the team. This wasn’t the time to pull rank; better to be patient and build rapport with these young men.

“My coaching philosophy is based on movement and stamina. If you can’t meet the physical demands, there’s no way to run our plays. So I hope you’ll take the initiative. From now on, this kind of conditioning will be the norm.”
He laid out his intentions plainly. While he didn’t reveal everything, he made it clear that his approach was unlike any coach they’d had before.

His calm attitude won him the players’ respect. At least, this former national team player wasn’t putting on airs—enough for them to give this young, if somewhat extreme, coach a chance.

“Why isn’t that white-haired kid training with us?”
Cai Aihong was nothing if not stubborn; even after Wang Lei’s explanation, he pressed on.

“He’s my secret weapon. He’s only sixteen and has never had professional training. For now, he’s exempt from these drills, but soon he’ll join you for every session. You wouldn’t really want to pick a fight with a sixteen-year-old high schooler, would you, Cai Aihong?”

“What? Coach, you know my name?”
“Of course. Each of you was personally selected by me. Don’t let me down.”

Wang Lei deftly defused the conflict and, at the same time, drew closer to the players—a skill honed from experience across two worlds.

The first day’s training was almost entirely physical. After the laps and a short rest, the players moved on to shuttle runs and dribbling drills.

Three hours wasn’t a long session, but it was enough to leave these semi-professional college players utterly spent.

After arranging for their post-training recovery and therapy, Wang Lei returned to his single dorm room. He needed to organize his thoughts for upcoming practices and see if he could start quantifying his players’ data—a tedious and complex task, but one he felt was necessary not just to better train these young men, but also to explore whether he could develop his own “special abilities.”

Upon logging onto the internet in his dorm, Wang Lei came across an announcement on the National Games’ official website for theme song submissions. Inspired, he decided it was time to raise both his and his team’s profile.