Inside the roaring stadium of Georgetown University, the home team prepared to dominate once more. Their players warmed up, focused and confident. But something unexpected caught a few eyes — a new face stepping onto the court for Ohio State.
Yang Yan.
A few of the Georgetown starters glanced at him, puzzled.
"Who's that guy?" one muttered.
They hadn't seen him in any of the scouting reports. No clips, no stats. To them, he was a no-name benchwarmer. After all, Johnny was the regular starter. If this guy had been sitting behind him, then he couldn't possibly be a threat.
And so, they looked away. Shrugged. Dismissed him.
Mistake number one.
The game resumed. Georgetown hit a free throw, extending their lead by two points.
Yet oddly, the Ohio State players seemed… cheerful.
Conley took the ball, crossed half-court, and paused. His eyes scanned the court, then found Yang Yan. A brief exchange — a look, a nod — and then, with purpose, Conley signaled him to come closer.
Yang hesitated, unsure at first. Was that really meant for him?
But Conley waved again, clearly urgent.
Yang Yan stepped forward, and Conley handed him the ball — no hesitation, no doubt. Then, Conley cleared to the side.
From under the rim, Greg Oden suddenly stepped out toward the three-point line and made a pick-and-roll signal.
Yang's heart skipped.
Conley passing to me… Oden setting a screen? This feels unreal.
But he didn't let the moment pass. He surged forward off the screen and executed a perfect floating layup.
Two points. Clean. Confident.
The crowd buzzed.
The Georgetown players exchanged glances. Who the hell is this guy?
In the very first play, their opponents treated him like the offensive core — a level of respect normally reserved for stars.
This was no benchwarmer.
Conley and Oden locked eyes. Both smirked.
They hadn't planned this, but they didn't need to.
They were done losing.
And they were ready to give Yang the spotlight he deserved.
From that moment on, Yang Yan became the offensive engine of Ohio State.
Conley fed him the ball smoothly, every possession. Oden came out for screens and boxed out defenders for second chances. Yang took advantage — despite his rust, his instincts were sharp, and his shot selection efficient.
The score evened out.
Then… Ohio State took the lead.
On the Georgetown bench, Coach Ilya narrowed his eyes. He watched Yang move like a conductor, orchestrating offense, breaking down defense, and playing with confidence.
"That's no substitute," Ilya muttered. "That's a hidden ace."
He'd been baited.
Gallagher had kept Yang hidden, and now — when it mattered — unleashed him.
Ilya acted quickly.
He pointed toward Yang Yan and gestured to Jeff Green, his star.
Green understood immediately and moved to shadow Yang.
Yang received another pass from Conley. But now, Jeff Green was in front of him.
The air thickened.
Here we go, Yang thought.
He knew Green. A third-year NCAA veteran, physically dominant, mentally disciplined. He wasn't just another player — he was a wall.
Oden tried to set a pick again, but Green muscled through, disrupting the play. He even attempted a steal — narrowly missing.
Yang recovered but had to reset. The offensive rhythm was gone.
Still, time remained.
Oden moved in again for another screen, but Yang waved him off.
"Clear out," he signaled.
Oden hesitated, then obeyed.
Now, at the top of the arc, it was one-on-one: Yang Yan vs. Jeff Green.
Green stared him down, expressionless, but full of confidence.
"Let's see what you've got," his eyes said.
He believed no one in the NCAA could beat him alone.
A genius may shine in the future…
But this moment?
This court still belongs to me.
And now, the duel would begin.