After hopping into the pickup truck, Zhao Dong pulled out his phone and called Knicks GM Ernie Grunfeld to ask about the ticket situation.
Bringing up tickets at this point? Yeah, Grunfeld knew exactly what Zhao Dong was getting at.
At this point, Zhao Dong was locking down his core spot with the Knicks, and the fans were eating it up—his popularity was creeping up to Ewing's level. That was crazy. Ewing had spent over a decade earning that respect, while Zhao Dong had done it in just one season.
Since Zhao Dong hadn't mentioned it before, Grunfeld hadn't made any arrangements. But now that he brought it up, a response was necessary.
After thinking for a second, Grunfeld said, "Alright, Zhao, how about this? For every home game in the playoffs, we'll set aside 20 tickets for you, including three courtside seats. And starting next season, you'll have 30 tickets reserved for every home game, also with three courtside seats. Consider it one of your perks. Sound good?"
"That's dope! I'm good with that," Zhao Dong said with a grin.
After a little more small talk, he hung up.
When he turned his head, Park Mi-yeon was staring at him with wide, admiring eyes. He chuckled. "Damn, you look like you're about to eat me alive. Hold up, we gotta get to the hotel first."
Park Mi-yeon blushed, then smacked him on the arm. "Senior, you're such a jerk."
Meanwhile, outside the campus, students were already talking.
"Look at that, the Wolf King snatched up another one."
"He never leaves empty-handed, huh?"
"The Stone Creek Wolf King stays winning."
Zhao Dong just laughed it off. He was only taking Park Mi-yeon out for dinner before dropping her back at school. The Eastern Conference Finals were right around the corner—he wasn't about to waste energy messing around. This was just a way to clear his head before the big games.
The next morning, he met up with Park Mi-yeon again, gifted her a premium Chanel perfume, and then took her to the New York Jets' training facility.
It was the NFL offseason, and training camp wouldn't start until late July, but some rookies and short-contract players were already grinding. Some unsigned guys were also trying out.
Zhao Dong liked coming here whenever he had free time—switching things up with different kinds of training. Back at Stony Brook University, he'd even run drills with the football Seawolves.
New York had two NFL teams, the Giants and the Jets, playing in different conferences. Zhao Dong? He was a Jets fan.
At this point, he was one of the biggest sports stars in the city, even more famous than most Jets players, so they welcomed him with open arms.
"Yo, Zhao, you got time to check out our practice?" a Jets coach called out when he saw him.
"The most important thing right now is staying loose—I'm locked in and ready," Zhao Dong replied with a smile.
Another coach glanced at Park Mi-yeon and smirked. "So, is this your girl?"
Zhao Dong grinned. "Would I be rolling around with someone else's girl? I mean… even if she was before, she's mine now."
The guys burst out laughing.
Zhao Dong looked over at the rookies running drills. "What'd we get from this year's draft?"
"No game-changers, man."
"Yeah, we don't have the luck the Knicks do."
The coaches sounded a little disappointed.
"Damn, that's tough," Zhao Dong said.
"You wanna get in on a few plays?" one of the coaches asked.
"Nah, I can't risk getting hurt right before the Eastern Conference Finals. My coach would kill me," Zhao Dong said, laughing.
After leaving the Jets' facility, he dropped Park Mi-yeon back at school—didn't even stay for lunch.
Then he called Lindsay. "Evelyn, let's get some Chinese food."
On the other end, Lindsay's soft, laid-back voice came through. "Mr. Zhao, aren't you busy with your Korean girlfriend?"
Zhao Dong blinked. "Damn, you know already?"
"Of course. ESPN already put out a report about you visiting the Jets facility with her."
Zhao Dong laughed. "Man, these reporters move fast. But nah, I just dropped her back at school. You want me to pick you up?"
There was a brief pause before Lindsay said, "...Alright."
When he pulled up to Columbia University, his pickup truck immediately got noticed.
"Oh, hell no, the Wolf King is here again!"
"This dude's got his eyes on Evelyn Lindsay now?"
"I swear, if the media didn't report on her, I wouldn't have even known there was a beauty like that at our school."
Columbia was one of the oldest universities in the U.S., founded under King George II of England as King's College. It had produced four U.S. presidents and a ton of other world leaders.
Zhao Dong parked outside the business school, where Lindsay was studying for her master's.
She was a year younger than him, yet here she was in grad school while he was still finishing undergrad. That made him feel a little self-conscious.
Lindsay was already waiting, holding a few books. Her outfit was simple and casual, and she had on black-rimmed glasses—nothing like her usual dazzling public image.
Now Zhao Dong understood why she'd been able to fly under the media's radar for half a year. Dressed like this, she went from a 100 to maybe an 80.
"Yo, ain't that a look?"
Zhao Dong couldn't help but stare at Lindsay. She adjusted her glasses, looking a little nervous. "Uh… should I go home and change?"
"Nah, you're good."
He smirked, reached out, and pulled her glasses off—then raised an eyebrow. No lenses. Just the frames.
Lindsay chuckled, took them back, and slipped them on again. "Can we go now?"
After school, Zhao Dong took her to one of the best Chinese restaurants he'd ever been to in New York—a spot specializing in Ningbo cuisine. The flavors were legit.
Once they got a private room and sat down, he asked, "Evelyn, you ever had real Chinese food before?"
"Yeah, all the time when I was a kid."
As soon as she said that, her face changed. A flicker of nostalgia, like she'd just opened an old wound.
Zhao Dong caught it but didn't push. Chinese food was everywhere, so it wasn't that surprising. Instead, he asked, "Anything you don't eat?"
"Fish. Definitely no fish."
She winced, clearly remembering something. Maybe a bad experience? Either way, her face darkened again, and Zhao Dong knew he'd stepped on something personal.
"No fish then. We'll get something else." He quickly flipped through the menu and ordered. "Alright, let's go with rice wine meatballs, candied soft-shelled turtle, steamed pork in lotus leaf, braised golden chicken, goose liver wrapped in pork fat, and drunken crab."
When the food arrived, Zhao Dong noticed something funny—Lindsay knew how to use chopsticks like a pro. Meanwhile, he was over there twisting them into some weird fork-like grip.
Lindsay side-eyed him. "Zhao, what the hell are you doing?"
He scratched his head. "Man, I just got used to it this way. My mom never really taught me. Even when she smacked my hands, it didn't help."
"That's 'cause you were probably wild as hell," she teased. "My mom showed me like, twice, and I got it."
Zhao Dong hesitated before asking, "Evelyn… your mom—was she Chinese?"
Lindsay froze. Then, after a second, she spoke. "Half. My grandpa was Chinese. She grew up in China, but later went to the UK for school. That's where she met my dad."
"Oh."
That explained why Lindsay had such a mix of Western and Asian features.
"What about your mom?" she asked.
He didn't get a chance to answer because she suddenly got quiet again.
Zhao Dong regretted bringing it up, but before he could change the subject, Lindsay continued.
"She passed away when I was five." Her voice was steady, but her eyes were already misty.
"That night, she got sick—really sick. An ambulance came and took her away… and she never came back."
"I was alone in that huge castle, crying, waiting for her…"
"Then, one day, my dad showed up. Brought back her urn. After that, he just disappeared. Only saw him in newspapers and on TV sometimes."
She exhaled sharply and wiped her eyes. "Damn… I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I've never told anyone before."
"It's cool. I'm listening." Zhao Dong slid her a napkin.
She looked up at him, her expression unreadable. "You know, I'm not some noble princess or whatever. Just an illegitimate kid nobody's supposed to see. Still wanna be my friend?"
"Of course." Zhao Dong didn't hesitate. "In China, nobility was meant to be overthrown. Lucky for you, you ain't one."
That made her laugh a little, and he kept talking—about his time with the Seawolves, getting kicked off the Bulls by Jordan, all the crazy stories from his career.
But when he started talking about his past relationships, Lindsay wrinkled her nose. "Bro, that's nasty. You've been through how many girlfriends? Ain't no way you're finding a real one acting like that."
"…Damn," Zhao Dong muttered. He'd forgotten she was a devout Catholic.
"Actually, I haven't had a girlfriend in months," he defended himself. "Feels like it's been a whole century since my last one. What about you? You ever had a boyfriend?"
Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Went to an all-girls church boarding school. Came straight here after. Do the math."
"Hey, no rush. You're not even 19 yet."
"I know. I'll wait for my Prince Charming. Unlike you, I actually want a guy who's loyal."
"Prince Charming? You mean a monk in a white robe?"
"…What?"
That dinner changed something between them. They weren't just friends anymore—they were close. The kind of close where you could talk about anything.
---
But Zhao Dong's mood flipped real quick when he checked the news later. The media was all over him again, hyping up a scandal with some Korean pop star.
"Zhao Dong out partying before the big game? Can the Knicks still count on him?" – The New York Times
"The 'King of Stoney Brook'—just another flashy playboy?" – New York Sports Daily
Zhao Dong groaned. "Man, these New York reporters are straight trash."
What, he couldn't hang out with a friend before a big game? He wasn't even doing anything wild.
Screw it.
He picked up his phone and called Lindsay.
"Evelyn, you free tomorrow?"
"What's up?"
"Fashion show at the Hilton. Let's go."
"…Why didn't you say this earlier?" She sounded suspicious. "What are you up to?"
Zhao Dong sighed. "The media's blowing up this nonsense with that Korean chick. I just wanna piss 'em off."
Lindsay snorted. "Zhao, I'm not one of your little girlfriends."
"I know, I know. You're my friend, right?"
She went quiet, then chuckled. "Alright, fine. But I got conditions. I want tickets to every Eastern Conference Finals game. And if we make the Finals, I want those too. Home and away."
"Done."
Zhao Dong wanted to use Lindsay, the top beauty, to set the media on fire. She wasn't even in the same league as Park Mi-yeon. The press had been digging for any dirt on Lindsay, and once they saw this, they'd lose their minds.
And sure enough, the next day, the media went wild when he and Lindsay, dressed like a straight-up princess, made a grand entrance at the Hilton Hotel, arm in arm.
"Zhao Dong, is Lindsay your new girl?"
"Did you break up with that Korean chick?"
"Lindsay, are you really dating Zhao Dong?"
The reporters swarmed in, throwing out all kinds of questions.
"Sorry, back off and give us some space, alright?" Zhao Dong shielded Lindsay as they walked inside the hotel.
"Zhao, you told me to help stir up the media. If those tickets aren't enough, you better pay up," Lindsay teased, rolling her eyes at him.
Zhao Dong looked at her seductive gaze and thought, Damn, if I wasn't planning to settle down, I'd be all over this girl.
"What kinda compensation we talkin' about?" he asked.
"Hmm…"
Lindsay bit her lips, thinking for a second before smirking. "In the future, take me to a show… five times—no, ten times… actually, make it twenty."
"As many as you want," Zhao Dong chuckled.
Lindsay grinned and tightened her grip on his arm.
When they arrived at the show, they were warmly welcomed by the host. Sitting front row, the event was about to start.
Meanwhile, in the New York Times newsroom, the entertainment editor slammed a picture of Lindsay on his desk.
"There ain't no royal family named Lindsay, but this girl's gotta be nobility. Her poise, her aura—she's got that aristocratic upbringing. We need to find out who she is, now!"
"Boss, we've been digging, but she's only been in the U.S. for six months. There's zero info on her past. What do you want us to do, break into the damn CIA?"
Over at the New York Sports Times, the editor shook his head. "Keep searching. We only know her name is Evelyn Lindsay and she's at Columbia University. That's not enough."
Meanwhile, in Chicago…
"Damn, why did that rookie Zhao Dong have to bag her?" Jordan groaned, tossing the newspaper aside.
"Man, she looks like a princess… what a damn waste," Pippen sighed, staring at Lindsay's picture.
And like those two, countless others were thinking the same thing.
On the 17th, after the conference semis wrapped up, the Eastern and Western Conference Finals were set—Knicks vs. Bulls, Mavericks vs. Jazz.
By the 19th, the Bulls touched down in New York, and the Eastern Conference Finals were about to tip off.
At the media's request, the Bulls held a press conference at their hotel.
"Michael, what do you think about Zhao Dong's new girlfriend, Evelyn Lindsay? Do you think she's royalty? How long do you think they'll last? Are they a good match?"
Knicks beat reporter Thomas fired off a barrage of questions, catching Jordan off guard.
"Hold up… am I in the wrong place? Ain't this supposed to be the Bulls' Eastern Conference Finals presser? Or is this the 'Zhao Dong Gossip Hour'?" Jordan scratched his head. "Yeah, I saw the news. Miss Lindsay is drop-dead gorgeous. Looks real high-class, like an actual princess. If Zhao Dong don't love her, he better back the hell off and not play with her heart."
"That rookie was all over some Korean chick just the other day. Man's a damn playboy—he ain't got the class for someone like her," Pippen added, shaking his head.
Rodman, for once, spoke seriously. "When a princess gets snatched by a dragon, what she needs most… is a knight. I'll be that knight."
"Yeah, we need to take out the Knicks, slay the dragon, and rescue the princess," Jordan grinned.
At that moment, the Bulls' Big Three stood united.
Phil Jackson rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache. Damn it, Zhao Dong, where the hell did you find this girl that got my guys acting up?
Back in the Knicks' locker room, Zhao Dong and his teammates were watching the Bulls' press conference live. He couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Even the best players can't resist a world-class beauty.
"Yo, Zhao, did you really pull a princess?" Oakley asked, walking over. "Last time, I saw y'all talking courtside for a while, then you just dipped with her."
"Zhao, she a real princess or what?"
"Zhao, have you kissed her yet?"
The guys all crowded around, hyped.
"That's top secret, my dudes." Zhao Dong grinned smugly.
"Man, get the hell outta here!"
Everyone flipped him off.
"Zhao, is she coming to MSG tomorrow night?" Allan Houston asked.
Zhao Dong smirked. "Oh, for sure."
"OHHHHH!"
The whole locker room erupted.
Just as he was leaving the room, Zhao Dong's system notification popped up.
Dynasty-Level Sniper Mission:
Objective—Lead the Knicks to defeat Jordan's Bulls in the Eastern Conference Finals and crush their second dynasty dreams.
Rewards—
Pick any one of Jordan's skills.
Upgrade any one of your own skills to max level.
Choose any physical attribute to break the human limit and reach Level 100.
"Shit, these rewards are crazy!" Zhao Dong's heart raced.
That third reward? That was the real prize.
The system had already told him—Level 99 was the max for normal humans. Level 100 meant going beyond human limits, something no amount of training or stat boosts could ever achieve.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. And he wasn't gonna waste it.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Do you want to read Advanced Chapters?
Visit this link:
Påtreon.com/Fanficlord03
Change (å) to (a)