"Throw money! Then change the head coach!"
The barrage in the livestream chat grew more aggressive by the second. Anchor Xiao Liang furrowed his brow as the comments scrolled endlessly across his screen. He had seen his fair share of intense fan reactions, but tonight's uproar was different—sharp, relentless, personal.
Unable to stay quiet, Xiao Liang picked up his phone and quickly fired off a message.
[Brother, help me check on your college basketball team—has anything strange happened recently?]
Within minutes, a response came through.
After reading it, Xiao Liang's expression darkened.
"Alright everyone," he spoke into his mic, "I've just confirmed something for you."
He switched to the chat overlay:
[Today at Ohio State, the player starting at small forward is named Oakley.]
[Oakley was actually the team's starting small forward before. He just hasn't played much this season because he was injured early in the regular season.]
But the explanation only seemed to provoke more anger.
[I don't care who Oakley is!]
[This guy is terrible—he's like a walking wooden stake!]
[We want Yang Yan!]
[Didn't you guys hear? The anchor just said Yang Yan's minutes will be limited now because Oakley is back.]
[Seriously? This guy is taking minutes away from Yang Yan?]
[Yang has been on fire—he should've been starting long ago!]
[Unbelievable. That bald Mediterranean coach is pulling dumb moves again!]
[Poor Yang God!]
Meanwhile, on the court, the Ohio State team was falling into disarray. Oakley, who hadn't played with the squad for months, was clearly struggling to find rhythm. The chemistry that had developed during his absence—especially between Oden and Conley—was completely disrupted.
Oakley fumbled passes. Plays broke down. And the team's fluidity ground to a halt.
Watching the lead slip away, Coach Gallagher finally made the move.
Yang Yan was subbed in.
Without a word, Yang entered the court and immediately made an impact. The offense began to click again. Oden found easy baskets under the rim. Conley ran smoother sets. Yang moved like a catalyst, turning chaos into harmony.
In just five minutes, Ohio State reversed their deficit and seized control of the game.
And then, just as quickly, Gallagher yanked Yang off the floor again.
Oakley came back in. The team once again fell into disjointed play. The momentum Yang had sparked began to crumble.
Oden glanced toward the bench multiple times, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. But Gallagher stayed firm.
Yang didn't see the floor again.
Ohio State lost the game.
Their first defeat after a month-long winning streak.
The locker room was tense. Oakley himself took responsibility, apologizing to Gallagher.
Gallagher nodded but said little. In his mind, Oakley simply needed time. A few more games, and he'd return to form.
But that wasn't what happened.
Ohio State lost the next two games as well.
Three straight defeats since Oakley's return.
And Yang? He barely played—averaging a mere seven minutes a game.
...
During a quiet training session, Yang stayed after to shoot alone. After thirty minutes, he sat down to catch his breath.
That's when Gallagher walked over.
Yang's eyes flickered with surprise. The coach looked… different. More subdued.
Gallagher sat beside him.
"You're starting next game," he said plainly.
Yang blinked. "What?"
"One condition," Gallagher added, turning to face him.
"What condition?" Yang asked.
"Don't lose."
With that, Gallagher stood and walked away, leaving Yang staring at his retreating figure.
This wasn't like him. Gallagher was known for his stubbornness, especially regarding Yang. He disliked Yang's unorthodox training habits, his nonchalant attitude, and his refusal to conform.
Their personalities clashed from day one.
Until now, the only reason Yang got any minutes at all was because of pressure from the school.
So why now?
Why the sudden change?
Yang had no answer. Thinking too deeply wasn't his style anyway.
But one thing was clear—he'd been given a shot. A full shot.
And he wasn't going to waste it.
...
Back in the Dragon Kingdom, the livestream chat was buzzing.
[Brothers, don't forget to watch the next Ohio State game!]
[Watch for what? Yang won't even play!]
[It's too frustrating—better not watch at all.]
[Don't worry! I guarantee Yang will be on the court next game!]
[Are you serious? Or is this another five-minute cameo?]
[Come on! Yang is starting for sure!]
[No way!]
[Yes way. I got the inside scoop—Yang will be a starter.]
[From who?]
[You won't believe it. I asked my dad to donate to Ohio State.]
[What?! Just to get Yang a starting role?]
[Yeah! I wanted that bald Mediterranean out!]
[Legend!]
[Did they really replace him?]
[Well… not exactly. The school didn't agree to fire him.]
[Aw, man… don't get our hopes up.]
[But! The school did have a talk with him. And he agreed to start Yang.]
[For real?!]
[Absolutely. I don't have much, but I've got money to burn. I can't stand seeing foreigners disrespect Yang!]
[Legend! You're my godfather now!]
[Justice for Yang Shen!]
Anchor Xiao Liang watched the chat roll in, chuckling. Half skeptical, he messaged one of his insider contacts.
The reply came minutes later.
And it confirmed everything.
Someone had actually donated to the university with the condition that Yang be given a fair shot.
Xiao Liang's eyes widened in amazement. He had thought the guy in chat was just bragging.
But it was all true.
He smiled.
For once, money had been used to fight for something right.
Yang Yan had a real chance.
And for all the fans who had waited through benchings and frustration—this was the moment they'd been hoping for.
Game on.