Chapter 5 | Be a Little Selfish

The gym after training was always excessively quiet.

Only a single row of lights was on, and shadows stretched across the wooden floor toward center court like a line unwilling to retreat. Zero dribbled alone; the sound of the ball echoed sharply in the empty space.

One.

Two.

He didn’t look at the hoop. He kept his eyes on the ball, following its trajectory back to his hands. With every touch, he thought about the same thing—his mistake from earlier.

It wasn’t a technical problem.

It was a choice.

He stopped the ball and looked up. Coach Zhou Qiming was standing at the sideline.

He hadn’t noticed when he arrived.

“Not leaving yet?” the coach asked.

Zero hugged the ball and nodded.

Zhou walked onto the court, standing near the free-throw line, eyes on the hoop. “What were you avoiding today?”

Zero said nothing.

“Yesterday, you didn’t avoid anything,” Zhou continued. “Today, once they targeted you, you kept thinking about ‘passing it away.’”

“I was afraid of making a mistake again,” Zero admitted quietly.

Zhou glanced at him.

“And do you think those plays just now looked good?”

Zero shook his head.

“You were carrying risks that belonged to others,” Zhou said. “You think that’s teamwork, but it’s not. Real teamwork is everyone taking responsibility for their own part.”

He paused.

“Your position means you have to be selfish first—toward yourself.”

The words landed heavily.

Zero stood, palms slowly tightening around the ball.

“I know your hands are small,” Zhou said bluntly. “When you’re trapped, you can’t hesitate. Your only advantage is that you decide a half-step earlier than everyone else.”

“Early—then don’t stop.”

Zero raised his head.

“Either pass early, or attack directly,” Zhou said. “The middle hesitation—that’s where you die.”

Zero nodded.

Zhou patted his shoulder, said nothing more, and turned to leave.

The gym was quiet again, with only Zero remaining.

He returned to the top of the arc.

Took a deep breath.

Dribbled.

This time, he deliberately accelerated the first touch.

Not faster—but decisive.

One step forward.

Stop abruptly.

Shot.

Banked in.

He didn’t pause. He dribbled again, switched hands, drove straight.

Layup.

In.

Zero began repeating the sequence over and over.

No waiting for the defense to form.

No waiting for the second defender to arrive.

He wasn’t practicing movements—he was practicing not hesitating.

The next day’s training arrived quickly.

Groups. Scrimmages.

Zero was targeted again.

First possession: he received the ball, double-teamed.

He didn’t pass.

One step forward. He drove straight between the two defenders. The moment his body made contact, he controlled the ball early, stopped abruptly, and shot.

Foul.

Score.

Someone on the sideline exhaled.

Second possession.

The trap came faster.

Zero passed early, the ball landing perfectly in a teammate’s hands on the weak side.

Open.

Score.

Third possession.

The defense hesitated.

Zero seized the moment—once again, he chose himself.

Mid-range shot.

Swish.

Coach Zhou stood on the sideline and nodded once.

Zero knew—he hadn’t suddenly gotten stronger.

He had simply stopped playing for others.