Chapter Three: Whose Script?

Xinglan smiled slightly. “My minutes are the coach's decision. Every choice I make with the ball belongs to the game.” “How would you describe this team tonight?” She looked at Qiao, Tang, and Zhou beside her. “We learned something. Someone can write a script, but once the ball reaches the court, the ending belongs to the five players.” Camera flashes became a wall of white. Back in the locker room, Yanqiu handed her a folded printout. It showed both versions of the workload report, and at the bottom was an internal authorization account. The account belonged to Luo Qingchuan's office. “You were right,” Yanqiu whispered. “But this proves only that he altered data, not the deal.”