Chapter 36: Holding up one finger signifies that I will only lose one gold medal!

It was clear that the reporter standing before him was from the United States. They had undoubtedly witnessed his friendly exchange with the American and Australian athletes just moments ago.

Coach Wang Mu and several of his teammates nudged him discreetly. The meaning was implied: in such a setting, he should be mindful of international optics. But if Wang Xiaoming were the type to worry about what others thought, he wouldn't be Wang Xiaoming.

Facing the reporter's question, Wang Xiaoming smiled slightly. "Oh, I was just asking them to take a group photo with me."

The reporter, clearly looking to stir up trouble, replied, "Is that so? But Mr. Wang Xiaoming, it seemed like they weren't very willing."

Wang Xiaoming kept smiling. "Oh, that’s fine. I understand. It’s normal for a loser to struggle with accepting defeat."

"Oh? Then why were they willing to take a photo with you?"

"Hmm," Wang Xiaoming mused, "because I said one thing to them."

"What did you say?" All the reporters pricked up their ears. The audience in front of their television screens watched with bated breath.

"I said, 'This is your only chance to take a picture with the 2024 Olympic Swimming Grand Slam champion!'"

As soon as these words left his lips, the Chinese reporters burst into laughter. They understood exactly what he meant. Wang Xiaoming was clearly signaling his intent to sweep every remaining gold medal. However, the reporters from other countries were not amused. Seeing this, the Chinese journalists laughed even harder. *What’s the matter? Why aren’t you laughing? Don’t you usually like to smile?*

Meanwhile, the coach and his teammates shook their heads helplessly. To be honest, they still hadn’t discovered a single thing that could intimidate this guy.

"So, does the single finger you held up before the race mean you had a premonition that you would take first place?" the foreign reporter continued.

Wang Xiaoming shook his head this time. Seeing his reaction, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and the viewers in the livestream couldn't help but joke that the guy actually knew how to be humble.

But just as people expected a modest answer, Wang Xiaoming’s next words left them completely stunned. He held up one finger to all the cameras again and said slowly, "I didn't hold up one finger to say I would win this gold medal. I meant that in this swimming competition, I will only lose one gold medal—the 50m freestyle I already finished!"

Silence! Total silence!

The interview area fell into an inexplicable atmosphere. All the reporters held their microphones in confusion. Even the Chinese journalists, who had been laughing loudly, froze in place, staring at Wang Xiaoming, unable to utter a word. Coach Wang Mu, who was drinking water, spat it out in shock, looking at Wang Xiaoming with an expression of sheer disbelief, as if he were looking at a monster.

Athletes as energetic as Pan Zhanle jumped up, clenching their fists in excitement, while the more introverted ones sat on the sidelines, gritting their teeth as their hearts raced.

Chinese viewers erupted, though some of the more rational ones expressed concern. "Man, isn't Brother Ming being a bit too arrogant?"

"Arrogant? We already agreed from the start that he was going for the Grand Slam!"

"Exactly, the 50m was just a mishap. The 800m is only the beginning!"

"Go, Brother Ming! Wipe the floor with them!"

Many manufacturers of swimming gear had already received orders to mass-produce products featuring Wang Xiaoming’s logo and likeness. When someone questioned whether this infringed on his portrait rights, the reply was: "We aren't selling them yet! We are about to send someone to discuss business matters with Wang Xiaoming; we're just getting the prep work done now!"

Invisibly, even before he finished his races, Wang Xiaoming had already secured numerous commercial contracts. Regardless of whether he achieved the Grand Slam, it wouldn't affect his status as a spokesperson. First, he had already nearly secured a Grand Slam in shooting, which was enough of a credential. Second, does the gold medal even matter? What matters most in this society is traffic and buzz. Haven't you seen how Wang Xiaoming is trending all over the internet?

Even the audience from other countries wasn't criticizing him as harshly as before. Now, they felt a hint of fear. While a Grand Slam seemed ethereal and impossible, this was Wang Xiaoming—the man who had created miracle after miracle. Who hadn't seen the terror of his 800m performance? Who could dare say that what Wang Xiaoming said was impossible?

***

Back in the United States, at Michael Phelps' home, Phelps was fuming as he watched Wang Xiaoming on the screen, who appeared even more arrogant than he ever was. In the world of swimming, he could not allow anyone to surpass his own popularity. That was his pride as the "Flying Fish" of the world.

Having already reported Wang Xiaoming via his phone once without success, he picked it up again. Since the Olympic Committee hadn't taken him seriously, he would manufacture public opinion. He had learned over the years that the internet could build gods, but it could also destroy them.

"Wang Xiaoming, don't blame me. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself for being too arrogant!"

Back at the venue, the foreign reporters, having regained their composure, asked their next question. "So, does that mean you will definitely participate in all the remaining races?"

Wang Xiaoming nodded. "Every single one."

"But as far as I know," the foreign reporter phrased carefully, "your short-distance results are not very good. How do you plan to defeat your opponents and win gold?"

Wang Xiaoming just smiled, not saying much, only leaving them with one line: "Then please, everyone, just wait and see!"

Following this, the remaining questions were trivial. Wang Xiaoming brushed them off and prepared to end the press conference. The afternoon session was for the men's events. However, another twist occurred during the lunch break. Pan Zhanle ran over to Wang Xiaoming in a panic, phone in hand.

"Brother Ming, look at what that son of a b*tch Phelps is saying!"

Wang Xiaoming paused. Wasn't Phelps his idol? How did he become a "son of a b*tch" in just half a day?

During the break, Pan Zhanle had been admiring Wang Xiaoming’s gold medal. "Brother Ming, the way you shut down those foreign reporters was so cool!" Pan Zhanle said with a grin.

Wang Xiaoming patted his shoulder. "Want to learn? I can teach you."

"Okay—" Before Pan Zhanle could finish, the coach kicked him away. "Get lost, what are you agreeing to?" The coach looked at Wang Xiaoming with concern. "Xiaoming, are you really participating in the afternoon races?"

The other teammates, who were gathered around the gold medal, also leaned in. They didn't doubt Wang Xiaoming's ability, but the prospect seemed too bizarre. The silver medalist from the 800m race was still lying on the floor, reportedly unable to stand for days, yet Wang Xiaoming looked like he hadn't even broken a sweat.

Wang Xiaoming nodded. "I'm definitely participating!"

Seeing his resolve, the coach didn't try to persuade him further. "Then after we eat, I'll have Pan Zhanle and the others practice short-distance with you. I'll teach you some starting techniques so you won't fall behind so much at the beginning."

Wang Xiaoming didn't refuse; he knew his strength lay in stamina and the latter half of the race. The afternoon’s first events were the 4x100m relay and the 200m butterfly. Butterfly was China's weakest event.

Throughout the afternoon, Pan Zhanle kept refreshing his social media. Everything on the hot search was about Wang Xiaoming.

"Damn, Brother Ming, look at what this bastard Phelps is saying!"

"What's wrong?" Wang Xiaoming asked, confused.

The coach scolded, "Watch your language, there's media everywhere!" But Pan Zhanle ignored him and handed over his phone.

Phelps was a legend, the god of the swimming world, with 23 gold medals to his name. Even Pan Zhanle had idolized him at one point. But Phelps was also known for controversy—marijuana use, drunk driving, gambling, and the public use of high-tech "physics hacks." Most absurdly, he used his alleged asthma as an excuse for doping. He also loved to trash-talk, often accusing others of doping.

Wang Xiaoming opened the post. The first page was a fake, congratulatory message. "Why are you cursing him? He's congratulating me," Wang Xiaoming asked.

Pan Zhanle opened the second page. "The first page is all nonsense. Look at the garbage he says here!"

A video played. The now-chubby "Flying Fish" began to ramble. "Hello, I am Phelps. I am reporting the Chinese athlete Wang Xiaoming to the Olympic Committee. His performance this morning is absolutely abnormal!"

Pan Zhanle exploded: "F*ck his mother, this bastard—"

Wang Xiaoming waved his hand, signaling him to be quiet. Despite their similar age, Wang Xiaoming possessed a charisma that made people instinctively trust him. Pan Zhanle fell silent.

Phelps continued in the video: "We know the limits of human potential. Even in my prime, I never swam the 800m under 7 minutes and 30 seconds. It is impossible and unrealistic! And he was a full body-length behind at the start! Who can accelerate like that in the second half? Plus, he held his breath for over three minutes—is he even human? I hope WADA strengthens doping tests on this Chinese athlete. If necessary, I think a full blood test is required. He is very abnormal."

The entire swimming team was furious. "Damn him! He’s the one who dopes the most, and now he’s slandering us?"

"Exactly! I used to treat him like an idol, what a piece of trash!"

"Always complaining about his 'asthma'—bullshit!"

Wang Xiaoming watched the video, a flicker of killing intent in his eyes.

"Brother Ming, why aren't you saying anything?" Pan Zhanle asked.

Wang Xiaoming shrugged. "What do you want me to say? Should I fly to the U.S. and assassinate him?"

Pan Zhanle’s eyes lit up. "Ooh, good idea..."

Wang Xiaoming ignored him as a system notification chimed in his mind:

[As an assassin, how can you suffer such slander!]
[New mission series unlocked: Defeat Phelps!]
[Host must break the Olympic records set by Phelps!]
[Each record broken unlocks a reward!]

The system went quiet for a moment before chiming again:
[Congratulations to the host for breaking Phelps' first Olympic record!]