Chapter 552: Charity Invitational Tournament 2

Chapter 552: Charity Invitational 2

The task [Scatter Wealth Boy] that had been triggered long ago was already completed, later upgraded to [God of Wealth], with the requirement to scatter a hundred million—a small goal that Meng Fan had long since achieved. After that, the task did not upgrade again, but the charity work never stopped.

As one’s social status rises, a sense of social responsibility naturally follows—this is a very natural thing. If you say this is Meng Fan’s human brilliance shining, that’s not wrong either.

Along with social status, Meng Fan also had social fame, and a great deal of it. So when doing charity, it was no longer good to do it alone; many hands make light work, so he sought more people to join in, and everyone liked to be part of such a lively affair.

The invited celebrities and star athletes naturally received no appearance fees. Besides those who would compete, Meng Fan, together with several organizations, elevated the evening charity gala a few notches, inviting a batch of celebrities and notables who would not participate in the competition.

The charity gala featured an auction; the attending celebrities and notables could bid or provide items for auction. Moreover, there were certainly “advertising slots”—in short, it was all about continuing to raise money.

The final result of raising money was naturally good, better than expected. Within a few days of the bidding process, each advertising slot basically attracted at least three bidders, with the most competitive slot having over twenty.

Bustling and lively, all advertising slots were sold out a few days before the invitational began, including mobile ad spots on the waists or chests of celebrities, notables, and athletes, as well as rights for platform live streaming and rebroadcasting. The revenue was quite impressive, breaking many related records.

The invitational was divided into a celebrity/notable group and a professional player group. Meng Fan was in a group of his own, playing only an exhibition match. The event was scheduled over three days, and Meng Fan’s exhibition match of eighteen holes was also spread over three days, playing six holes a day—a gimmick full of flair.

Still, some felt Meng Fan’s move was too showy, especially the foreign professional players. A large part of why they accepted the invitation was to see for themselves whether Meng Fan truly possessed such incredible precision in striking, whether the footage was real. Another part was the power of brand sponsors—Meng Fan had reached them through the brands they endorsed.

Meng Fan’s appeal in China and even globally was immense. How much attention such a charity invitational would attract, these brand sponsors knew all too well. Securing a good advertising slot, coaxing and cajoling their brand partners, was a perfectly normal operation.

The invitational officially began. Both groups played a round of eighteen holes. The details of the matches are omitted here; suffice it to say that at the end of the day’s events, Meng Fan took the stage and on the first hole directly hit a hole-in-one.

The first hole was a short hole, about 231 yards, roughly 211 meters. The watching celebrities, notables, and athletes could clearly see the entire fairway. With that swing, the little white ball landed clearly and unmistakably straight into the cup at the center of the green.

A crisp *pop*—from the swing point to the hole, there was only the arc of the ball’s flight; it did not land on the green and then roll down a slope into the hole.

Such a shot, such a hole-in-one, even if luck played a part, still required formidable skill to support it. Just the distance of the shot alone was not something anyone could achieve.

Moreover, before this, Meng Fan had videos of similar holes-in-one. Who could claim that Meng Fan had faked those videos in anticipation of today’s hole-in-one? Conversely, it proved that his earlier videos of holes-in-one were all real.

On the second ball, Meng Fan again hit a hole-in-one.

This time, there was no room for doubt or suspicion.

Two consecutive holes-in-one—unprecedented in the world.

For the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth holes, though no more holes-in-one occurred, each was completed in two strokes. Whether par three, four, or five, he finished in two, catching birdies, eagles, and albatrosses with relentless glee, driving several veteran renowned golfers present to contemplate retirement on the spot.

Just six holes—they made the non-elite athletes scream in awe, marvel as if seeing a deity, and worship with body and soul. Meanwhile, the elite athletes, beyond their shock, all felt a sense of “boredom.” Not that Meng Fan’s shots were boring, nor his scoring boring, nor Meng Fan himself boring—but that Meng Fan made the sport itself boring.

Under his hands, this sport with its unique charm—a sport that could exercise the body, cultivate the mind, and nurture the spirit; a sport that was fashionable and elegant, even considered by many so-called aristocrats or high society as the noblest in the world—became utterly tedious, even devoid of any hesitation.

“My God, what kind of person is this Chinese Meng!”

“I heard the Chinese call him Iron God (iron-god). Did you see his club? Can anyone tell me what iron number that is? It looks just like a barbell!”

“No, he’s not a god—he’s a devil! God, never let this man enter a golf tournament! He, he will ruin this sport!”

“No one plays golf like him. If he competes, the world’s eyes will all be on him, and every other athlete will become invisible! Everyone who has never touched this sport will think golf is played like that. Without him, when they watch others, all the audience will be furious and say we can’t play! Golf will be completely finished, you know!”

“…Well, I heard he really doesn’t plan to participate in any golf tournaments, just charity matches at most.”

“Really? That’s great!”

“I say, everyone, to let him play charity matches in peace, whenever he launches a charity event in the future, you all should come as much as possible. Otherwise, I’m really afraid he’ll go play in official tournaments.”

“…You guys keep it up. I’m planning to retire after this invitational. I’m tired.”

“I’m thinking of retiring too. Suddenly, persistence feels meaningless. No matter what, I can’t reach this devil’s level.”

“No, you can’t do that!”

A group of elite athletes huddled together in lament. A few who were already planning to retire made up their minds; others who said they would retire were just talking. Few top athletes would concede without a fight. Even though they all knew they could never match Meng Fan’s precision, they still wanted to try. Some even formed a group to ask Meng Fan if he had any special training methods.

If there were, and it could be promoted, golf would usher in a revolution in training and technique.

“Is there? Do you have a special training method, Meng?”

After finishing the six holes, Meng Fan heard their questions and looked a bit troubled, but he answered truthfully: “There is, I suppose there is. But this training method isn’t really suitable for others—maybe only for me. You all know about the five senses, right? My training is essentially about enhancing the five senses to a very high degree.”

Meng Fan’s words were not false; he was merely reversing the qualitative change in the five senses gained from completing various precision tasks and attributing it to training.

(The chapter ends)