After heading back to the training base, Zhao Dong hopped in his new pickup and drove straight to Long Island overnight to check if his safe had been messed with.
Tonight was a damn good night. Not only did he come up big, but he was also in the mood to celebrate—with Alice.
The next morning, while Zhao Dong was still knocked out on top of Alice, the New York media was already losing their minds over last night's game. His performance had the city buzzing.
"Golden Tyrant, Our Future!"
The New York Daily News ran a 3,000-word article under that headline, hyping him up:
"No doubt about it, after Ewing, we've finally found our future. He's Zhao Dong, the Golden Tyrant Last night, he dominated Shawn Kemp with a style so ruthless it should be illegal. A new star is rising in the Garden."
"Zhao Dong, The Golden Tyrant—But We Prefer to Call Him the Wolf King."
The Long Island Stony Brook Daily News got in on the action too:
"Ewing? Too stiff. He doesn't inspire the squad. The Knicks need a leader with absolute dominance—a Wolf King who can drive this team to the top."
This take stirred up some real debate among Knicks fans. Some were with it, but most weren't buying it.
And honestly, it made sense. Ewing wasn't some scrub. The dude had been putting up 20+ points for 11 straight seasons since his rookie year. Since the '89-'90 season, he'd been averaging 20 and 10 for seven straight seasons. That's legendary status in New York. Meanwhile, Zhao Dong had barely played a handful of games. He needed to keep proving himself before fans would even think about giving him that kind of respect.
It was almost noon when Zhao Dong finally rolled out of bed, eyes still heavy with sleep.
"Zhao, I'm starving. Order something, will you? I want pizza. And lots of it…" Alice groaned, still lying in the sheets.
"Pizza? Hell no. I haven't had real Chinese food in almost two months. Get up. We're feasting."
Zhao Dong yanked on his clothes and casually pulled the blanket off Alice.
"Ugh, no way! Chinese food is too greasy. I have a magazine shoot next week—I can't afford to gain weight," she protested, slipping into her clothes.
"Pizza ain't any better. You're eating Chinese today. No arguments."
"You always do this. You never listen to me," she pouted.
Zhao Dong smirked. "If you're worried about gaining weight, I know a workout that'll fix that."
Alice scoffed, "Even if I slim down, I'm still a D-cup. No matter how big your hands are, you can only grab so much."
Zhao Dong damn near lost it. His body tensed up just looking at her. He almost went in for another round.
She had this classic, old-school beauty. It wasn't just that she was fine—he had plenty of options—but Alice had that Audrey Hepburn vibe, and he was a huge fan of Hepburn.
Downstairs, she spotted Zhao Dong's ride and wrinkled her nose. "Drive my BMW instead."
"Nah. That thing's too damn small. I don't fit in it."
He opened the truck door for her and practically shoved her inside.
Alice shot him a glare but didn't argue.
"This dude is a complete caveman," she thought. "He's only perfect in one department. Other than that, he's got zero romance. So how the hell does he pull so many women?"
As they drove past Stony Brook University's gym, Zhao Dong spotted a bunch of tall, built dudes hanging around. His former Seawolves teammates.
"Yo! Tom! Lucas! Where y'all headed? Wanna grab lunch? My treat!"
The group of players immediately surrounded the truck.
"Wolf King! Hell yeah, man, we were about to hit the cafeteria, but you saved us the trouble!"
"What's on the menu, Zhao?"
"Yo, still with Alice? Thought she'd have dumped your ass by now!"
Alice's mood instantly soured. She shot Zhao Dong a deadly look.
"Figures… a bastard's friends are all bastards."
Zhao Dong chuckled, then turned back to the team. "Alright, lunch is canceled. Y'all go feed yourselves."
He stomped the gas and peeled off.
"Zhao, I've had it with you! I wanna break up," Alice snapped.
Zhao Dong slammed the brakes. "What?!"
"You'll dump me when you're done having your fun. Even your dumbass friends know it! So tell me—when's that gonna be?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Zhao Dong said, totally unfazed.
Alice clenched her teeth so hard they almost cracked. She was two seconds away from strangling him.
"I'm done, Zhao. For real this time."
She jumped out, slammed the door, and walked off without looking back.
Zhao Dong sat there, stunned.
"Damn… did I just get dumped?"
He glanced around and saw students whispering, pointing at him. He muttered under his breath, "But Alice… I wasn't done yet."
He didn't chase after her, though. Why would he? There were plenty of fish in the sea.
Not even half an hour later, the entire Stony Brook campus was buzzing about how Zhao Dong got dumped.
Shaking it off, he found a familiar Cantonese restaurant and ordered a spread—some Cantonese classics, plus a plate of poached chicken. He even asked the kitchen to go easy on the oil and sugar. This meal had to last him a while; he wasn't about to eat Chinese food again for at least a month.
Just as he was about to leave, he heard a voice.
"Hey, Senior Zhao Dong?"
"Senior Zhao! Can we eat with you?"
"Yo, you've been killin' it with the Knicks!"
Four Chinese girls walked in, and three of them immediately crowded around him. The fourth one stood back, eyeing him curiously.
Zhao Dong nodded, checking them out. They spoke fluent Mandarin and called him "senior," so they had to be international students from Stony Brook.
Then his eyes landed on the girl in the back. Long, straight black hair.
His heart skipped a beat.
"Hold up… Akagi Haruko?!"
The resemblance was crazy. She looked just like the girl from Slam Dunk.
Before he could think twice, he grinned.
"Well, shit. Fate brought us together, huh? No need for an invitation—y'all sit down. I got the bill. Order whatever you want."
He waved to the waiter. "Hey! Bring a few more menus over here!"
The girls giggled and eagerly took their seats.
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