The TV camera cut to an interview with Charles Barkley.
"Man, what the hell is ESPN trying to do? They tryna mess with me?"
Zhao Dong sat back in his hotel room, watching a highlight reel of interviews clowning him, and his mood soured instantly.
Barkley, looking straight into the camera, had a face full of frustration.
"That punk Zhao Dong really called me a sucker? Man, I been injured for 20-plus games this season! I'm in the twilight of my career, just trying to chase my dream before I hang 'em up. What's wrong with that? Damn him! I hope he never wins a ring in his life!"
Then came a clip of Shaquille O'Neal, who looked dead into the camera and barked:
"Zhao Dong, you said Karl Malone ain't qualified for First-Team All-NBA? But you wanna say the same about me? Man, I'ma remember that! Next time I see you, I'm smashing the damn backboard on you. Just wait on it!"
Then came Karl Malone, looking heated.
"That dude injured me, man! I only played 50 games 'cause of him! That's a whole damn conspiracy! Lemme tell y'all this—the Knicks better not make the Finals. And if they do, it just means Lady Luck turned into the Grim Reaper!"
The screen cut back to the ESPN studio, where the host smirked like he was enjoying the drama.
"As you can see, Zhao Dong isn't exactly the most popular guy in the league. He disrespects respected superstars just to get attention. And guess what? The Rookie of the Year voting proved it—nobody likes him.
Here's my advice to him: keep your head down. This is America. This ain't a place where you can be arrogant.
Anyway, we'll get to the Bulls' take on all this next time."
CRASH!
Zhao Dong launched his Motorola phone straight at the TV.
The TV screen shattered on impact, but the phone? Still in one piece.
"Keep my head down? Man, unless the Statue of Liberty collapses, I ain't bowing to nobody. I'll give y'all a three-second moment of silence, though."
---
ZHAO DONG CALLS OUT ESPN
Twenty minutes later, he stepped outside the hotel, only to find a swarm of reporters waiting for him.
The moment they spotted him, they rushed in.
Microphones and cameras were all up in his face.
Zhao Dong's voice was ice-cold as he stared into the cameras.
"I got something to say to that dumbass ESPN host. I survive here off my game, not off someone else's popularity. If you think I need to keep my head down, you're outta your damn mind."
The reporters exploded with excitement.
"Zhao Dong, what happened?"
"What did you hear?"
"What did ESPN say?"
Zhao Dong smirked.
"Y'all wanna know? Go watch the ESPN segment yourself."
With that, he brushed past them, hopped in his car, and sped off.
---
GAME 2: KNICKS vs. MAGIC
April 26th. Game 2.
Madison Square Garden was packed and star-studded.
After his near-triple-double in Game 1, Zhao Dong was already being talked about as the best performer in the entire playoffs so far.
His status among Knicks fans was skyrocketing.
When he led the team onto the court, the crowd erupted, chants of "Zhao! Zhao! Zhao!" shaking the arena.
After greeting fans, he was about to start warming up when something on the jumbo screen caught his eye.
---
A NEW MYSTERY WOMAN
A close-up of a stunning woman appeared on the ceiling screen.
Zhao Dong's eyes lit up.
She had burgundy shoulder-length hair, piercing blue eyes, and delicate facial features—the kind of beauty that hit different.
She had the soft yet striking look that Asian aesthetics favored, probably mixed-race.
Her curves under that red dress? Elite.
Her vibe? Like a rose—gorgeous, but with hidden thorns.
And most interestingly…
She had loneliness in her eyes.
Zhao Dong knew that look all too well.
Even in this crowded arena, she seemed like she was alone in a castle from another time.
---
ZHAO DONG SHOOTS HIS SHOT
Without hesitation, he made his way to the sideline, heading straight for her.
She noticed him coming but didn't react—just watched him with calm curiosity.
She was used to men approaching her.
But when she looked into his eyes, she noticed something surprising.
For a man loved by thousands, he carried the same loneliness she did.
"Weird…" she thought.
Now, she was curious about Zhao Dong.
"Hey, beautiful, what's up? Mind if I introduce myself?" Zhao Dong grinned, extending his hand.
"Evelyn Lindsay."
She reached out, shaking his hand with a soft yet confident grip.
Zhao Dong raised an eyebrow.
"Ms. Lindsay, you a Knicks fan?"
She smiled, shaking her head.
"Nope. I'm here for Penny Hardaway. I love his style of play."
Zhao Dong chuckled.
"Ohhh. So you someone else's goddess, huh? Damn, guess I gotta steal you away."
Eve Lindsay laughed.
"Confident, aren't you?"
Zhao Dong smirked.
"Alright, let's make this interesting. Wanna bet on the game?"
Eve narrowed her eyes.
"What kind of bet?"
Zhao Dong grinned playfully.
"Loser takes the winner out to dinner."
Eve bit her lip, studying him with those bright blue eyes.
She saw right through him—this dude was slick as hell.
.
The cameras flashed, and the arena's attention shifted to them.
Up on the jumbo screen, the whole crowd was buzzing.
"Yo, she looks like a damn princess!"
"Is she a Hollywood star?"
"She's gotta be some European royalty!"
Eve glanced at the cameras, then back at Zhao Dong.
"If you don't say anything, I'm taking that as a yes," Zhao Dong said with a grin.
"Mm."
Evelyn Lindsay nodded casually.
Zhao Dong flashed a quick wave and turned to warm up.
As he walked away, a strange feeling hit him.
Standing next to Lindsay made him feel like he wasn't alone for once. And he wanted more of that feeling.
Tip-off. Zhao Dong won the jump ball, and the Knicks went on the attack.
"The starting lineups are the same as last game. Zhao Dong crosses the halfcourt, calling for the ball, and the Magic are already looking to double-team..." Matt Guokas was on the call for NBC.
On the left wing, Zhao Dong bullied Dennis Scott inside the arc, muscling his way through. As soon as the double came, he hit a quick step-back and let it fly from deep.
Swish!
Nothing but net.
"Smooth step-back jumper! Zhao Dong's feeling it early. That's a great start," the MSG announcer hyped up the crowd.
"That was elite footwork," Marv Albert added. "Zhao Dong's perimeter game keeps improving. But one thing I've noticed—he doesn't use his back-to-the-basket game much on the outside. That could be a problem when teams send hard doubles."
"He's got the bag, but you're right—he doesn't go to the turnaround jumper or fade as much," Matt Guokas said. "But he's a rookie. Give him two or three seasons, and I bet he'll add it to his arsenal."
"By then, are we talking about a bigger Charles Barkley?" Marv Albert chuckled.
"Maybe a super-sized Michael Jordan?" Matt laughed.
"Ha-ha…"
The booth cracked up.
Meanwhile, in Chicago…
The Bulls had wrapped up Game 1 last night and were set for Game 2 tomorrow. Jordan and Pippen were chilling, watching the Knicks game.
"What Matt said was straight-up comedy," Pippen shook his head.
"Hold up…" Jordan narrowed his eyes at the screen. "Scotty, doesn't that step-back look familiar?"
"You think?" Pippen leaned in. "Didn't notice."
Jordan wasn't sure. But Zhao Dong's move looked a little too much like his own.
"You think this kid is a fan of yours? Like that rookie Kobe in L.A.?" Pippen guessed.
"Man, I hope not," Jordan scoffed. "One Kobe is already too much."
Back at MSG…
Midway through the first quarter, Knicks were up 16-12, forcing the Magic to call timeout.
Zhao Dong was cooking—3-for-3 from the field, already with 8 points.
On his way to the bench, he slowed down near Lindsay.
"Hey, Evelyn, I can call you that, right?"
"Of course," she smiled.
"You should start thinking about where we're eating. Bet's locked in for tomorrow night," he said, smirking.
Evelyn playfully rolled her eyes before flashing a sly grin. "Funny… I don't remember us agreeing on a time, though."
Zhao Dong paused, then laughed out loud.
"Ms. Lindsay, I'm not letting you slip away. Something about you is pulling me in," he said before heading to the bench.
Evelyn bit her lip again, lost in thought. Attracted? Maybe.
The game picked up intensity.
The Magic were desperate—going down 0-2 meant big trouble. They came out of the timeout playing aggressive, borderline dirty defense.
Zhao Dong drove into the lane. Two defenders collapsed on him.
He hit a quick shake move and split the double. The Magic's Brian Evans, fresh off the bench, got dropped to the floor. Zhao Dong was about to be in the clear.
Then Evans reached out—dirty play.
Zhao Dong tripped over his arm and crashed to the hardwood.
BAM!
The ref's whistle blew instantly.
"Ah!"
Lindsay gasped courtside.
"Yo, what the hell?!" Zhao Dong clutched his left knee, wincing in pain.
The Garden erupted in boos and curses.
"Oh no! Zhao Dong is down, grabbing his knee!" CCTV's Zhang Heli sounded shaken.
"Please don't be serious," Sun Zhenping said, voice trembling.
"He's not getting up… this isn't good," Ma Jian added.
"When the Bulls played the Dirty play Pistons, they used these dirty plays on Jordan all the time," Marv Albert noted. "He learned not to land with his knees vulnerable. Now it's Zhao Dong's turn to learn the hard way."
"This could be bad. Let's hope it's nothing major," Matt said.
Beijing.
At Zhao Dong's home, Li Meizhu sat frozen.
"Please don't let it be serious," she whispered.
"He's tough. He's always been tough," someone beside her reassured.
"Damn it!"
Watching Zhao Dong lying on the floor, clutching his left knee and unable to get up, Van Gundy cursed under his breath. He spun around and signaled to Larry Johnson on the bench.
"Get up, you damn rookie! Stop faking! I didn't even touch you!" Brian Evans, the guy who tripped Zhao Dong, barked at him.
BANG!
Before anyone could react, Oakley rocked Evans with a right hook. Evans hit the floor, screaming in pain.
"Charles, don't do it!"
Van Gundy was in the middle of giving instructions to Larry Johnson when he saw the fight break out. His face turned red as he started yelling.
"Man, f*** it!"
Larry Johnson wasn't about to miss out. He had stayed out of the last few fights, but now? He was all in.
"Damn it!"
Van Gundy tried holding him back, but it was useless.
"STOP FIGHTING!"
Zhao Dong's pain had eased a little. Just as he was about to get up, he saw chaos erupting on the court—even Larry Johnson was throwing hands.
"This ain't the regular season! You can brawl in the regular season and still come back strong, but in the playoffs? That'll kill us!"
In his past life, the Knicks and Heat had brawled in the playoffs. That fight cost them the series, handing a win to a weaker Miami team. Zhao Dong wasn't about to let history repeat itself.
By the time security rushed in, Oakley and Larry Johnson had already rag-dolled a few Magic players. The fight ended with the Knicks landing way more shots.
Zhao Dong was helped to the sideline, where the team doctor and staff began checking him out.
Meanwhile, the refs huddled to sort out the mess.
Magic: Brian Evans got hit with a flagrant 2 and was tossed.
Knicks: Oakley and Larry Johnson? Gone. John Starks? Ejected.
Ewing: Slapped with a flagrant 1—he got involved, but it wasn't major.
Just like that, the Knicks were down bad.
Five starters:
Three ejected.
One injured.
Only Ewing left standing.
"Damn it!"
Sitting courtside, Zhao Dong glared at the Magic bench.
The MSG crowd was pissed.
"BOOOOO!" Debris started raining down toward the Magic bench.
"How bad is it?" Van Gundy wiped his sweat and turned to the team doctor. The entire front office—including owner James Dolan—stood behind him, looking worried as hell.
"You banged your knee on the bone—nothing too serious," the doctor said. "No ligament or tendon damage. Most likely a deep bruise, but there's a chance of a fracture. Best bet? Sit this one out and get checked at the hospital."
Everyone let out a breath. As long as it wasn't a major injury, they'd take it.
But while they gave up on the game, Zhao Dong hadn't.
Just as he was about to speak—a system prompt popped up.
Sudden Quest: Lead your team to victory, and you'll receive 'Iron Knees' from The Hammer.
His eyes widened. "System, who the hell is The Hammer? Some future NBA player?"
"A sports god from a parallel Earth—dominated the NBA, NFL, and pro boxing. Never got injured once."
"Wait, never? Not even once? That's insane!"
Zhao Dong was hyped. Without hesitation, he pushed himself up.
"Be careful!" The team doctor reached for him.
"I'm good."
Zhao Dong shook him off, jumped a few times, then shouted, "I'm playing! I'll beat these fools myself!"
If the system said he could play, then he was playing. No hesitation.
The crowd exploded.
"Zhao Dong's fine! Let's go!"
"Best news of the night!"
"Damn the Magic! We're shorthanded, but we still got Zhao Dong and Ewing!"
"Don't forget Houston!"
"How many games will Oakley and them get suspended? They should've taken some Magic players out before leaving!"
The Knicks locker room.
Larry Johnson let out a sigh of relief. "Charles, looks like Zhao Dong's fine."
Oakley kept his eyes on the screen, then suddenly cursed out loud.
"F***! We had a golden shot at a title this year, and the Magic just ruined it!"
"You think Zhao Dong's giving up?" Starks asked.
Oakley shook his head. "Not a chance. That kid don't quit."
"But with no squad, how's he supposed to win?"
The brawlers in the locker room sighed.
Back on the court…
"Hey, Zhao Dong!"
A soft voice called from the sidelines. He turned and saw Eve Lindsay.
"Win this game, and I've got a surprise for you."
She smiled, her eyes full of warmth, her lips curling like a blooming rose.
Zhao Dong grinned.
"Then get that surprise ready."
With that, he turned and walked back onto the court.
Zhang Heli on the CCTV broadcast let out a deep breath.
"Zhao Dong's back in… Thank God."
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