Chapter 76: The Birth of the Prophet
"I just... see things more clearly."
Lin Feng's answer was an understatement.
But to Kobe, it was more alarming than any arrogant declaration.
Seeing things more clearly?
What kind of ridiculous explanation is that!
Kobe refused to believe it.
He picked up the ball, reset his stance, and focused his gaze to the absolute limit.
"Again!"
This time, he didn't attempt any probing moves.
He poured all his skill and experience into this single offensive play.
A lightning-fast crossover, with a body feint large enough to fool ninety-nine percent of the league's defenders.
He anticipated that Lin Feng would move to the left.
However, Lin Feng didn't move.
Lin Feng stood his ground, like a statue, watching him with calm eyes.
As if saying, "I've seen through your performance."
Kobe's heart sank, and he forcefully pulled his center of gravity back, transitioning into a post-up.
He used his back to feel Lin Feng's strength.
It was weak.
Completely inconsistent with his terrifying predictive ability.
Kobe felt certain: the opportunity had arrived!
He suddenly spun toward the baseline, executing a silky smooth fadeaway jumper.
This was his signature move, his imprint!
His body stretched to its maximum in the air, and his wrist gave a slight flick.
A perfect shooting form!
However, just as the ball was about to leave his hand.
That hand appeared again.
Still the same position, still the same angle.
Lin Feng didn't even jump; he just moved to Kobe's landing spot ahead of time and raised his arm high.
It was as if he was waiting for Kobe to voluntarily deliver the ball right into his hands.
"Clap!"
A soft sound.
The ball was lightly tipped, its trajectory changed, and it hit the rim and bounced out.
Kobe landed, staring intently at Lin Feng.
He felt his entire basketball philosophy had been completely overturned in that moment.
"Again!"
Kobe gritted his teeth, forcing the two words out through clenched jaws.
For the next hour.
A one-on-one match that Kobe would never forget unfolded in the training gym.
No, it wasn't a one-on-one.
It was a one-sided, brutal execution.
Kobe utilized every offensive weapon he possessed.
Whether it was driving, fading away, or low post footwork.
Lin Feng could always predict it beforehand.
He was like a prophet from the future; Kobe's every move, every pump fake, and even the rhythm of his breathing, were precisely calculated by him.
When it was Lin Feng's turn to attack, the scene became even stranger.
Lin Feng's movements weren't fast; they could even be described as simple.
A most ordinary change of direction.
A most basic spin move.
But to Kobe, it felt like facing a phantom.
Lin Feng always launched his attack precisely when the smallest, even imperceptible, flaw appeared in Kobe's defensive balance.
He felt as heavy and clumsy as a bear.
Time after time, he was faked out and lost his balance, and time after time, he was easily blown by.
"Bang!"
When Kobe, once again thrown off balance, crashed miserably into the equipment rack on the sideline, he finally broke down.
He didn't get back up.
He sat on the cold floor, gasping for air, his black practice jersey soaked with sweat.
He looked up at Lin Feng, who was standing in the middle of the court barely sweating.
His eyes were filled with shock, confusion, and bewilderment... Finally, all the complex emotions melted into a bitter smile.
And a deep, heartfelt sense of relief.
"You truly... have evolved."
Kobe's voice was hoarse, carrying the relief of a man who had been thoroughly defeated.
He knew that the kid who had been desperately chasing after him no longer needed him to lead the way.
He had found his own path.
A path leading to the realm of the gods, one that even Kobe himself couldn't comprehend... 9:00 AM.
The rest of the Lakers players arrived at the training gym one after another.
They sensed immediately that the atmosphere today was unusual.
Kobe, the team's leader, wasn't doing his usual extra practice. Instead, he sat quietly on the sidelines, watching Lin Feng practice shooting alone with an extremely complicated look in his eyes.
And Lin Feng had changed too.
He was still silent, but the gloom brought on by the losing streak had completely vanished.
In its place was an impenetrable calm and confidence.
head coach D'Antoni clapped his hands, gathering everyone together.
"Guys, I know this six-game losing streak is tough on everyone."
"But we don't have time to be depressed!"
"Tonight, at the Staples Center, our opponent is—the Los Angeles Clippers!"
The Clippers!
Hearing that name, every player's nerves tightened.
This wasn't just a derby match.
It was a direct confrontation with the league's number one point guard, Chris Paul!
He was a court magician who could shred any defensive system with his passing.
For the Lakers, who had just suffered six consecutive losses and whose defense was like paper, this was undoubtedly a disaster.
Everyone's eyes instinctively turned toward Lin Feng.
They wanted to see how this new core player, on whom the team placed high hopes, would perform against a truly elite point guard.
Lin Feng, meanwhile, listened calmly.
Chris Paul? The league's number one point guard?
This touchstone was exactly what he wanted... Night fell, and the Staples Center was brightly lit and packed.
The Los Angeles Derby never lacked excitement.
The Lakers lost the opening tip-off.
The Clippers gained possession for the first offensive sequence.
Chris Paul calmly dribbled the ball across half-court, his eyes scanning the Lakers' defensive alignment. His brain, like a supercomputer, instantly calculated several offensive options.
He raised his hand and gave a tactical signal.
The Clippers players began executing complex off-ball movement and screens, like precise mechanical parts.
This was a play they had run countless times, designed to use movement to create an absolutely open shot opportunity on the weak side.
However.
In the vision granted by Lin Feng's Eye of the Heavenly Emperor, everything changed.
The running trajectories of all the Clippers players were no longer random.
Blue lines, representing their next direction of movement, clearly appeared on the court.
Griffin would roll down from the high post to set a fake screen for Jordan.
Redick would use the screen to curl to the forty-five degree angle, feigning a catch-and-shoot attempt.
And Paul's true passing target was Matt Barnes, who was quietly slipping toward the baseline corner using a double screen.
A clear, dynamic offensive blueprint was fully presented in Lin Feng's mind.
Just then, Paul moved!
He executed a highly deceptive behind-the-back dribble, suddenly dropping his body to the right, feigning a strong drive!
A collective gasp erupted in the Staples Center!
Everyone thought Paul was going to use his individual skill to tear open the Lakers' defense!
The Lakers' defenders subconsciously collapsed to the right.
But Lin Feng stood still, rooted to the spot.
He didn't even look at Paul; instead, he suddenly shouted to Gasol, who was guarding Griffin behind him.
"Pau, cover the baseline!"
The voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached Gasol's ears despite the noisy arena.
Gasol paused for a moment.
But almost instinctively, he abandoned his coverage of Griffin and immediately darted toward the left baseline corner!
At the exact moment Gasol moved!
Paul's drive to the right was indeed a fake!
With a flick of his wrist, the ball instantly switched from behind his back to his left hand, and he accelerated sharply toward the open left side, like a phantom!
This was his classic "Split the Defense" move!
However, when he drove, spun, and prepared to pass the ball to Barnes in the corner.
He saw a high yellow wall.
Pau Gasol, like a divine soldier descending from heaven, had already spread his arms and was firmly waiting in his path!
Paul's mind went blank!
He tried to stop his feet, but it was too late!
"Thud!"
He slammed solidly into Gasol's chest.
"Beep—!"
The referee's whistle echoed throughout the arena!
Offensive foul!
The entire arena erupted in an uproar!
Lin Feng hadn't moved, yet he had directed his teammate to execute a perfect predictive defense!
Kobe, sitting on the sideline, watched the scene and jumped up from his seat in excitement.
He knew that the true core and future of the Lakers had officially been born tonight!
Chapter 77: The Prophet on the Court
Chris Paul scrambled up from the floor, staring intently at Lin Feng as if he were looking at a monster.
What was going on?
How could he have known?
Paul's brain worked at lightning speed, yet he couldn't find any logical explanation.
That play just now was an exchange of glances between him and Griffin, a moment of improvisation.
It was the tacit understanding built from countless times playing together.
Even his own teammates, seeing him drive right, thought he was going to take the shot himself.
But Lin Feng, the rookie standing still, barely even in a defensive stance...
Why could he foresee the exact passing lane he would use?
He even directed Gasol to wait like an ambushing hunter along his inevitable path.
This was unscientific!
This defied the logic of basketball!
Paul felt his brain crash for the first time.
His proud court vision and judgment felt like a joke in the face of Lin Feng's calm gaze.
The entire arena erupted!
The Lakers fans at the Staples Center recovered from their initial shock and burst into a roaring cheer!
"My God! What did Lin just do?"
"He didn't even move! He just shouted something!"
"He stopped Chris Paul just like that? The league's number one point guard?"
Kobe, sitting on the bench, watched the scene and jumped up from his seat excitedly.
He knew that the Lakers' true core and future had officially been established tonight!
Possession changed; it was the Lakers' turn to attack.
Lin Feng slowly brought the ball across half-court without rushing.
The Clippers' defensive formation immediately shifted.
Jamal Crawford, known for his flashy streetball moves and streaky scoring as the'Sixth Man of the Year,' stepped up to guard Lin Feng.
Crawford's defense, just like his style of play, was full of deception and unpredictability.
He constantly used small shuffles and upper-body fakes to disrupt Lin Feng's dribbling rhythm.
His eyes held a streetball-style provocation.
"rookie, let me see what you've got."
Lin Feng's expression didn't change at all.
[Eye of the Heavenly Emperor, activate.]
In his vision, Crawford was no longer a living person.
Instead, he was a stream of constantly fluctuating data.
[Target: Jamal Crawford]
[Status: Defensive Stance (Center of Gravity 73% to the left)]
[Muscle Tension: Right calf gastrocnemius preparing to exert force, left shoulder shows tendency for a downward fake.]
[Predicted Action: In 0.5 seconds, he will use a fake to the right, attempting to force you to drive left.]
Every intention of Crawford, every subtle muscle reaction, was completely deconstructed in Lin Feng's eyes.
Lin Feng could even'see' Crawford's cerebral cortex thinking about how to pull off a flashy steal to regain the team's lost face.
What a... boring performance.
Lin Feng couldn't even be bothered to use any complex techniques.
Just as Crawford's body began to execute that fake to the right, causing a 0.1-second shift in his center of gravity.
Lin Feng moved.
No flashy behind-the-back dribble.
No rapid crossover.
Just the simplest, most fundamental move, one that looked almost outdated even in instructional basketball videos—
A simple in-and-out dribble.
The ball gently tapped from his right hand to his left.
Crawford's brain reacted instantly.
Too simple!
Such a basic move must be a trap!
He must be connecting it to a between-the-legs move or a wide spin!
This was the fixed mindset of top players; they always interpreted an opponent's simple move as the beginning of a complex tactic.
Crawford's body, based on this 'high-level prediction,' made an excessive counter-movement.
His center of gravity lurched violently in the opposite direction of Lin Feng's change—to his own right!
He wanted to preemptively block any potential follow-up move from Lin Feng.
However.
There was no follow-up.
Lin Feng's move was truly just that one simple in-and-out dribble from right to left.
The ball went past.
The player went past, too.
And Crawford, because of that full-force counter-lunge, completely lost his footing.
His left ankle made a teeth-grinding scraping sound against the slick floor.
"Screeeech—!"
Under the gaze of tens of thousands of spectators.
This master of streetball, whose joy was making others fall, suddenly went limp as if his spine had been removed, collapsing onto the floor in a heap!
Ankle Breaker!
Ankle Ender!
Lin Feng didn't even glance back at him.
He easily blew past Crawford and charged into the Clippers' paint like a gust of wind.
The Clippers' 'Beast' power forward, Blake Griffin, and center DeAndre Jordan immediately converged like two walls to help defend!
They raised their arms high, blocking every possible angle for Lin Feng's layup.
However, the moment both men jumped.
Lin Feng flicked his wrist slightly.
The ball didn't go toward the rim.
Instead, as if it had eyes on its back, it flew out from under Griffin's armpit at an unbelievable angle.
A precise no-look pass!
The ball landed perfectly in the hands of the trailing Paolo Banchero.
There was no one in front of Banchero.
He easily rose up with one hand and gently laid the ball into the basket.
"Swish!"
Score!
Assist!
After a half-second of silence, the entire Staples Centerexploded!
"OH MY GOD!!"
"He crossed up Crawford! He dropped Jamal Crawfordwith the simplest in-and-out dribble!"
"And that pass! How did he see that? Does he have eyes on his back?"
If the defensive command earlier had only caused shock.
Then this offensive possession was blatant, unreasonable 'dimensional reduction!' (A crushing display of superior power)
Using the simplest method to achieve the most humiliating result!
Chris Paul, standing at the backcourt, stared blankly at the scene.
He looked at Crawford, who was being helped up by his teammates, his face flushed with shame and anger.
Then he looked at Lin Feng, who, after scoring, still had an expressionless face and was quietly turning to head back on defense.
An unprecedented sense of powerlessness washed over him.
It was the first time he had felt such absolute despair against an opponent—a feeling of being completely seen through and utterly unable to resist.
His prized basketball IQ seemed so ridiculous and childish when faced with Lin Feng's prophetic vision.
"BEEP—!"
Clippers head coach Del Negro could no longer sit still.
He abruptly stood up from his seat and made a timeout signal toward the scorer's table.
The game had only been underway for a few minutes.
He was forced to call his first timeout.
He grabbed the whiteboard, intending to draw up a defensive strategy targeting Lin Feng.
But he held the pen, sketched on the board for a long time, and couldn't write a single word.
How do you defend him?
How do you guard a prophet who can foresee your next move?
Double-team him? His no-look pass just proved that trapping him is ineffective.
Leave him open to shoot? He possesses historically deep three-point range.
Man-to-man? Even Crawford was dropped by a simple change of direction!
Del Negro irritably threw the whiteboard onto his chair.
He realized he was utterly helpless.
Meanwhile, on the Lakers' bench.
Kobe did not join his teammates in celebration.
He simply watched Lin Feng walk off the court, his eyes shining with an unprecedented light.
He turned to his assistant coach, Phil Handy, beside him, and said softly in a tone that was both relieved and slightly wistful.
"He no longer needs me to teach him."
"He has started to define this game."
Chapter 78: A One-Man Team
The timeout ended, and the players from both teams returned to the court.
The face of Clippers head coach Del Negro was filled with irritation and helplessness.
He had finally made a decision.
A defensive tactic that was highly targeted but also extremely risky on a professional stage.
BOX-1.
One-man man-to-man, four-man zone defense.
The Clippers' defensive specialist, Matt Barnes, was like a piece of sticky plaster, clinging tightly to Lin Feng's side, never leaving him for a second.
He had only one task: to use every means possible to prevent Lin Feng from receiving the ball.
Meanwhile, the other four Clippers players formed a rectangular zone defense below the free-throw line, protecting the restricted area and ready to provide help defense at any time.
The goal of this tactic was clear.
It was to completely sever Lin Feng from the Lakers' offensive system.
To force the Lakers back into being that chaotic team where everyone played for themselves.
The Lakers' ball was inbounded.
Steve Nash held the ball, his brow furrowed as he looked at the Clippers' defensive formation in front of him.
He couldn't find a single crack to pass the ball to Lin Feng.
Barnes' defense was like an iron cage, locking Lin Feng in place.
What to do?
D'Antoni paced anxiously on the sidelines, but he was helpless.
This extreme level of individual targeting was almost unsolvable.
However, Lin Feng, 'imprisoned' in the iron cage, didn't have the slightest hint of impatience on his face.
His Eye of the Heavenly Emperor was already active.
In his eyes, the Clippers' BOX-1 tactic was full of holes.
The four-man zone defense appeared tight, but the rotations and movements between players would inevitably create time gaps.
And those time gaps were fatal flaws that could be exploited.
He didn't even need to hold the ball.
"Pau."
Lin Feng's voice suddenly rang out in the noisy arena, clearly reaching the ears of every Lakers player.
"In three seconds, back-cut from the baseline."
Pau Gasol, who was setting a screen for a teammate at the high post, stiffened for a moment.
What?
Back-cut from the baseline?
Wouldn't that be running straight into the Clippers' defensive trap?
He subconsciously looked at Nash, then at D'Antoni on the sidelines.
But Nash and D'Antoni also looked bewildered.
This wasn't a play they had drawn up.
"Listen to him!"
Kobe, standing on the sidelines, suddenly stood up and roared at the court.
Gasol's heart instantly settled.
He chose to believe.
To believe in the teammate who had just performed a miracle, to believe in the man who even Kobe was impressed by.
He counted down in his head.
Three.
Two.
One!
Now!
Gasol spun suddenly, abandoned the screen, and like a white flash, charged toward the baseline before making a sharp turn and back-cutting toward the basket!
Almost at the exact moment he started his move,
the basketball in Nash's hands was released.
The passing master had also chosen unconditional trust!
The basketball sailed over the heads of the Clippers' defenders, tracing a precise arc.
The Clippers' zone defense was instantly thrown into chaos by this unexpected movement.
DeAndre Jordan hurriedly turned to help defend.
But it was too late.
Gasol reached the rim, leaped high, caught the pass perfectly, and gave it a soft touch in mid-air.
The ball went in.
Another easy score.
Gasol landed, looked at his hands, then turned to look at Lin Feng in the distance, who was still being tightly shadowed by Barnes.
His eyes were filled with disbelief.
The timing, the positioning, the pass, the cut... everything was just right, as if it had been practiced thousands of times.
But this was clearly just an improvised command from Lin Feng!
The Clippers' offense, under Lin Feng's direction, once again came up empty.
Possession returned to the Lakers.
Lin Feng was still being shadowed by Barnes, unable to even touch the ball.
But like a ghost overlooking the battlefield from the clouds, he issued another command.
"Nick, go to the forty-five-degree mark on the left."
His voice was calm and clear.
"Get ready to receive the ball; your defender is going to slip."
Nick Young, who was running his route, heard this.
As the most eccentric player on the team, he had always only trusted the ball in his own hands.
To have him listen to a rookie's commands?
He felt a bit dismissive in his heart.
But Gasol's score just now made him hesitate.
During that half-second of hesitation,
Kobe's roar came from the sidelines again.
"Nick! Do as he says!"
Nick Young shuddered, didn't dare think further, and immediately ran to the position Lin Feng had designated.
Jamal Crawford, who was defending him, followed closely behind.
In his haste to catch up to Nick Young, Crawford's footsteps were a bit rushed.
Nash's pass arrived right on time.
Nick Young caught the ball steadily at the forty-five-degree mark.
Crawford hurriedly tried to brake and lunge forward to defend.
However, because he exerted too much force, his feet suddenly slipped.
Thud!
Crawford, once again, fell to the ground in a pathetic heap.
The space in front of Nick Young was instantly wide open, with no one in sight!
He even had time to adjust his shooting form before calmly jumping and releasing the shot.
Swish!
A three-pointer!
After the shot, Nick Young didn't perform his signature celebration.
He stood there blankly, looking at his hands, then at Crawford on the ground, and finally, his gaze fell on Lin Feng, who hadn't even touched the ball.
He really... slipped?
How did he know?
The commentators on the sidelines had gone completely wild.
"My God! What is going on?"
"Lin Feng didn't even touch the ball! He just said two sentences, and the Lakers easily scored two baskets!"
"The Clippers' BOX-1 tactic has become a complete joke! They can guard Lin Feng's body, but they can't guard his voice!"
The other commentator added in a trembling tone,
"This doesn't feel like a basketball game! It's like the Lakers are performing a public tactical drill!"
"Lin Feng isn't playing basketball; he's writing an unbreakable offensive program!"
"And the other Lakers players are the machines executing this code! Precise, efficient, and deadly!"
The Clippers' morale was collapsing at a visible rate.
Their proud 'Lob City' had also been completely silenced under Lin Feng's command.
Chris Paul tried once more to set up an alley-oop with Griffin.
He had made his intentions subtle enough.
But the moment the ball left his hand,
Lin Feng's voice rang out on the Lakers' half of the court like a curse.
"Sacre, to the rim!"
"Griffin is going for the alley-oop!"
Robert Sacre, who was supposed to be defending near the free-throw line, didn't even think when he heard the command; he immediately turned and charged toward the rim.
He didn't even look to see where the ball was.
He was simply executing an order.
When Blake Griffin soared high from the crowd like a beast, prepared to ravage the rim in mid-air,
what he saw wasn't an empty basket.
Instead, it was a smiling, almost simple-looking face.
Robert Sacre was already standing under the rim with his arms wide open, as if waiting for a long-lost friend.
He jumped easily and, in mid-air, steadily plucked away Paul's pass, which should have been a Top 10 play.
Interception successful!
Griffin landed heavily on the ground, his mind a total blank.
Humiliation, anger, confusion... all sorts of emotions flooded his heart.
He suddenly lunged at Sacre and shoved him hard with his chest.
"How the fuck were you there!"
Sacre was knocked back a step, but he wasn't afraid.
Having been 'blessed' by Lin Feng, his confidence was currently through the roof.
He also slammed back hard with his chest.
"This is Staples! This is my house!"
The two were instantly entangled, pushing each other and spewing trash talk.
The referee's whistle blew just in time to separate them.
A small conflict had erupted.
Lin Feng, who had triggered all of this, was just standing far away in the backcourt.
He watched the chaotic scene coldly, his eyes showing no emotion.
It was as if he were watching a dull farce that had nothing to do with him.
Chris Paul watched all this, his hands and feet feeling cold.
He felt like the basketball worldview he had built was being cruelly crushed, piece by piece, by that Easterner.
No!
This cannot go on!
He was Chris Paul! The league's number one point guard! The 'Point God'!
He could not accept being completely defeated by a rookie in such an inconceivable way!
After both sides finished the technical free throws resulting from the conflict,
Paul took the ball from the referee.
He waved to his teammates, signaling them all to clear out.
Then, he dribbled the ball, step by step, until he was in front of Lin Feng.
His eyes burned with a fire like never before.
"Come on."
Paul stared intently at Lin Feng, squeezing out the words from between his teeth.
"Let's see if you can predict this!"
Before his voice even faded, he moved!
Between the legs, behind the back, a 'Hezi' hesitation, a sudden stop, followed by a dazzling Shammgod!
A series of top-tier, flashy ball-handling skills were executed fluidly in his hands.
The entire Staples Center held its breath!
This was a proud display of skill belonging to the Point God!
However,
in Lin Feng's vision,
Chris Paul's lightning-fast movements were decomposed into countless slow-motion frames.
Every bounce trajectory of the basketball.
Every tiny shift in his center of gravity.
Every contraction of his ankle and knee muscles before exerting force.
Everything was clearly and slowly presented within his Eye of the Heavenly Emperor.
This dazzling display was as slow as a clumsy pantomime.
Chapter 79: Divine Disdain in the Matchup
Paul's face was filled with a desperate madness.
He condensed his lifetime of ball-handling mastery into these few seconds.
He felt as if he had entered some kind of mysterious state.
He felt that every single move he made was flawless.
Now!
With a final behind-the-back dribble into a Shammgod, his body suddenly dipped low to the left!
He saw it!
He saw Lin Feng's shoulder make an extremely subtle tilt, a tendency to move to the right!
You fell for it!
A cry of wild joy erupted in Chris Paul's heart!
It was a trap!
His true breakthrough direction was to the right!
Using every ounce of strength, his ankles suddenly exploded with power, and he shot toward the opening on the right like an arrow from a bow!
The space opened up!
A massive space, enough for him to complete a shot or even a drive!
He had won!
Using the skills he was most proud of, he had defeated this monster who could predict the future!
However...
At the very moment he thought the path was clear...
A hand, so ordinary and even somewhat casual, reached out into his breakthrough path.
The owner of that hand, Lin Feng, hadn't moved at all.
From beginning to end, he had stood right where he was.
That subtle twitch of the shoulder just now was only because he had been standing for a long time and was relaxing slightly.
Chris Paul's mind went blank.
He watched helplessly as the basketball in his hands, as if pulled by a magnet, escaped his control.
Then, unerringly, it "delivered" itself right into that outstretched palm.
"Clap."
A slight, almost inaudible sound of contact.
A steal.
So effortless.
So simple.
Chris Paul's confidence, his pride, everything he had built as the "Point God," was utterly shattered at this moment.
Because he had exerted too much force, he lost his balance, stumbled a few steps, and came to a stop.
He didn't look back.
He just stared blankly at his empty hands.
What happened?
Just now... what happened?
He couldn't figure it out.
He completely couldn't understand.
Lin Feng ignored the league's number one point guard standing soul-crushed behind him.
He grabbed the ball and immediately launched a fast break!
After a brief moment of dead silence, the Staples Centererupted in ear-splitting screams!
"Steal! Lin Feng stole the ball from Chris Paul!"
"Oh my God! How did he do it? Paul's sequence of moves made my eyes go blurry!"
The Clippers players, as if waking from a dream, frantically sprinted back to their half-court.
Blake Griffin and Jamal Crawford, one on the left and one on the right, like two hounds, chased relentlessly after Lin Feng.
They knew they absolutely couldn't let Lin Feng score easily again!
This was no longer just about one basket!
It was a matter of dignity!
Everyone thought Lin Feng would choose to pass or use his speed to drive into the paint.
Because behind him were two frantic pursuers.
In front, the Clippers' center, DeAndre Jordan, had already retreated to defend the rim.
It was a desperate situation, surrounded on three sides!
However...
Just when everyone thought so...
Lin Feng, running at full speed, suddenly came to a screeching halt just one step past the three-point line!
The piercing screech of sneakers echoed through the arena.
Griffin and Crawford behind him couldn't stop in time!
But relying on their professional instincts, the moment they overshot, they forced their bodies to twist and leaped high, attempting a block from behind!
Lin Feng didn't look at the hoop.
Because of the sudden stop from a full sprint, his body had completely lost its balance.
He was falling backward.
Just as his body was about to be parallel to the ground...
Using an extremely distorted and uncoordinated posture, he casually tossed the basketball toward the hoop with one hand.
Formless Shot!
This wasn't a shot at all!
It looked more like throwing away a hot potato before falling!
"Bang!"
As Crawford came down, he collided heavily with Lin Feng.
"Beep—!"
The referee's whistle blew at the same time!
Defensive foul!
Everyone's eyes followed the basketball that had been tossed out.
It traced a high, somewhat crooked arc in the air.
Then...
"Swish!"
A crisp, pleasant sound that broke the hearts of every Clippers player.
Nothing but net!
The basket counts!
And an extra free throw!
A 3+1!
The entire Staples Center went completely wild!
Fans leaped from their seats, waving their arms and roaring with all their might, venting their excitement and fervor!
"God! Is that a shot a human can make?"
"With two people on his back! Fading away and throwing it in! And he drew the foul!"
"The game is over! It's completely over! Lin Feng has killed the game!"
This shot completely shattered the psychological defenses of everyone on the Clippers.
They stood frozen, looking at Lin Feng, who was being pulled up from the ground by his teammates, still expressionless.
In their eyes, only numbness and despair remained.
How do you play against this?
How can you even play?
If you guard him, he can use his voice to direct teammates to score.
If you leave him to play one-on-one, he can steal the ball from you in the most humiliating way and then toss it into the basket in the most unreasonable manner.
This was no longer a basketball game.
It was a one-sided, cruel execution.
Clippers head coach Del Negro could no longer maintain his composure.
He slammed his tactical board onto the floor and walked to the scorer's table.
He called his final timeout.
The game entered garbage time.
D'Antoni waved his hand and subbed Lin Feng out.
Lin Feng walked off the court.
The entire Staples Center, all twenty thousand spectators, rose to their feet!
They gave their most enthusiastic applause and cheers to the only king of the night!
Lin Feng walked calmly, high-fiving his teammates one by one as they left the court.
He headed toward the bench.
The first to greet him was Kobe.
Kobe didn't say a word.
He just opened his arms and gave Lin Feng a firm hug.
He patted Lin Feng on the back once, twice, three times with force.
A thousand words were melted into this embrace.
It was a passing of the torch.
It was an acknowledgment.
Even more, it was a heartfelt relief of an older brother seeing his younger brother finally grow into a towering tree.
Lin Feng hugged Kobe back.
He could feel the slight trembling in Kobe's arm.
Finally, the game ended.
The Lakers secured a resounding victory at home, ending their embarrassing six-game losing streak.
Lin Feng's stats for the night were displayed on the large statistics screen.
25 points, 18 assists, and 6 steals.
The scoring wasn't exactly explosive, but anyone who watched the game understood how terrifyingly high the quality of these stats was.
Every one of his scores was achieved at the most critical moment, in the most soul-crushing way.
Every one of his assists was like a scalpel, precisely cutting through the Clippers' defense.
Every one of his steals directly destroyed the opponent's confidence.
The post-game press conference was packed with reporters.
All cameras and microphones were pointed at the Lakers' bench.
A reporter grabbed the chance to ask a question and handed the microphone to Kobe.
"Kobe, how do you evaluate Lin Feng's performance tonight? He seems to have played a brand-new kind of basketball we've never seen before."
Kobe looked at the reporter, then at the young man beside him who had remained calm throughout.
His eyes suddenly grew a bit moist.
He took the microphone, his voice slightly raspy but filled with unprecedented determination.
"I have always wanted to find a future for the Lakers."
Kobe paused, his gaze sweeping across every camera on the scene, as he spoke word by word.
"Tonight, I found it."
Chapter 80: The New King of LA, The League is Shaken
Kobe's voice echoed through the microphone across the entire press conference hall.
"Tonight, I found him."
The camera flashes reached their peak at this moment.
Click! Click! Click!
All the reporters went crazy!
They fixed their lenses firmly on Kobe and Lin Fengbeside him, clicking their shutters frantically, terrified of missing this historic second.
The weight of these words was immense!
This wasn't just praise for a rookie.
This was Kobe Bryant, the King of Los Angeles, announcing it to the whole world.
The crown was about to be passed!
The future of the Lakers was no longer this injury-riddled veteran, but the young man from the East beside him!
One reporter practically shouted the question on everyone's mind.
"Kobe! Do you mean Lin Feng will be your successor? That he will become the new cornerstone of the Lakers?"
Kobe didn't answer again.
He simply stood up and gave a meaningful smile to all the cameras.
Then, he patted Lin Feng on the shoulder and was the first to walk out of the conference hall.
He left behind a silhouette that shook the entire league.
And a massive mystery.
That night.
ESPN's website crashed directly.
Countless fans flooded in, wanting to watch the game highlights, wanting to see Lin Feng's miraculous performance clearly.
The front-page headlines of major sports media were all replaced within half an hour after the game ended.
Sports Illustrated: "The Prophet Descends on Staples Center! Basketball Enters a New Era!"
Bleacher Report: "God's Perspective! How Do We Defend a Player Who Can Predict the Future?"
The sports section of the Los Angeles Times used a full-page spread, printing only Lin Feng's expressionless, divine Eastern face, with a headline of just five massive words.
"THE NEW KING OF LA!"
The New King of Los Angeles!
The entire North American sports circle was completely boiling over.
And this storm soon swept through the entire league.
In Miami, the Heat's tactical analysis room was brightly lit.
head coach Erik Spoelstra dragged the game footage progress bar over and over again.
On the screen was the exact moment Lin Feng directed Gasol to draw an offensive foul from Paul.
"Pause."
Spoelstra's voice was a bit raspy.
He pointed at Lin Feng on the screen, who was standing still in place.
"Can anyone tell me how he knew Paul was going to pass to the corner?"
The tactical analysts looked at each other; no one could answer.
An assistant coach hesitated for a long time before speaking softly.
"Maybe... it was a coincidence?"
"Coincidence?"
Spoelstra looked as if he had heard a joke.
"Once is a coincidence, but what about crossing over Crawford? What about the steal that humiliated Paul? And that 3+1 that completely defies physics?"
"The most ridiculous part was the BOX-1! The Clippersused their top-tier defensive resources to limit him, and as a result, he didn't even need to touch the ball to turn the Clippers' defense into a sieve!"
"You tell me, is this fucking coincidence too?"
The entire tactical room was dead silent.
Everyone looked at that ghost-like Easterner in the footage, feeling a chill down their spines.
They desperately realized that the ability this rookie displayed had already exceeded the scope of basketball tactics.
How do you target an opponent who can see through all your tactical intentions?
How can this battle even be fought?
The same scene was playing out simultaneously in Oklahoma, San Antonio, Chicago... in the meeting rooms of the other twenty-plus teams in the league.
Overnight, the name Lin Feng became a nightmare for every team's coaching staff.
The league's players also saw the highlights of this game through various channels.
LeBron James updated his Twitter after practice.
"I watched that game. That kid... is special. The landscape of the league might be about to change."
A short sentence, yet it caused a massive stir.
To make the number one player in the league say such a thing showed how much of an impact Lin Feng had on him.
Kevin Durant was even more direct; he retweeted the video of Lin Feng's unreasonable 3+1, captioning it with just three words.
"So unreal."
What the players felt was a deep-seated fear.
It was the sense of powerlessness one feels when facing a higher-dimensional being.
The skills, experience, and basketball IQ they relied on for survival seemed laughable in the face of Lin Feng's 'dimensional reduction strike'.
Lin Feng's reputation reached an unprecedented peak overnight.
He was no longer just a popular rising star who gained attention through looks and gossip.
Instead, he was truly regarded by the entire league as a superstar who could change the landscape... Inside a luxury apartment in Beverly Hills.
Lin Feng casually tossed his jacket onto the sofa and walked into the bathroom.
The hot water washed over his body, also washing away the fatigue from the game.
To him, everything he did tonight was just standard procedure.
The Eye of the Heavenly Emperor was supposed to have such power.
He walked out of the bathroom, drying his hair, and picked up his phone.
There were several unread messages on the screen.
The first one was from a familiar number, Scarlett Johansson.
"It seems you've found a way to see this world clearly, my Mr. 'artist'. Congratulations."
The tone of the text was lazy with a hint of teasing and a trace of subtle flirtation.
A playful smile curled at the corner of Lin Feng's mouth.
This woman was always so sharp.
He was just about to reply.
The phone screen was suddenly filled by an incoming call.
Caller ID: Taylor Swift.
Lin Feng answered the phone.
From the other end came Taylor's scream, so excited it almost cracked!
"Lin! I knew it! I knew you were different!"
"Oh my god, have you seen the news? Everyone is crazy for you! You're practically a king!"
Her voice was full of undisguised pride and adoration, as if she were the one who had put on the god-tier performance tonight.
"My next concert—no, all my future concerts! That VIP seat right in the middle of the first row is reserved for you forever!"
Lin Feng calmly handled the enthusiasm of the music queen.
He leaned back on the sofa, enjoying the joy of victory and the thrill of being pursued by the world's top goddesses.
This feeling was indeed quite good.
Just then.
A news notification suddenly popped up at the top of his phone screen.
The source of the notification was North America's most famous gossip media—TMZ.
And that bolded headline made the smile on Lin Feng's face stiffen slightly.
[Exclusive! K-POP top group Starlight Girls member Yinna arrives at LAX, causing fan frenzy!]
Below the notification was a candid photo from the scene.
In the picture, Yinna was wearing a black mask and hat, blocked at the airport exit by countless reporters and fans.
The crowd was congested, and she was squeezed to the point where she could hardly move; her eyes, visible above the mask, held a hint of helplessness and panic.
Chapter 81: Calm in the Eye of the Storm
[Exclusive! K-POP Sensation Starlight Girls Member Yinna Arrives at Los Angeles Airport, Causing Fan Frenzy!]
The news notification that popped up on his phone screen was like a needle, accurately piercing the joy that Lin Feng had just felt.
On the other end of the phone, Taylor Swift was still excitedly describing future plans in her cloyingly sweet voice.
...By then, the entire Staples Center will be screaming for you! No, the entire world will!
The smile on Lin Feng's face had completely vanished.
His gaze fell on the accompanying picture.
Yinna was squeezed by the crowd, her face under the mask unclear, but the helplessness in her eyes pierced through the screen, straight into his heart.
Why was she here?
And at such a time, in such a way.
Lin? Are you listening?
Taylor noticed the silence on the other end of the line.
Sorry, Taylor, something unexpected came up on my end.
Lin Feng's voice returned to normal, but the post-victory ease was gone.
Oh? Are your teammates throwing a party to celebrate?
Taylor's tone carried a hint of curiosity and understanding.
Something like that.
Lin Feng vaguely replied.
I need to take care of something first, I'll call you back later.
Alright, Your Majesty, enjoy your night.
Taylor thoughtfully hung up the phone.
Lin Feng took the phone away from his ear, looking at the TMZ news, his brows furrowing little by little.
He knew that paper couldn't wrap fire forever.
He just didn't expect the fire to burn so quickly, so fiercely.
He had barely put down his phone for two seconds when it vibrated wildly again.
Incoming call: David Falk.
His Agent.
Lin Feng answered the call.
Lin! Did you see the TMZ news?!
David's voice was sharp and anxious, like a cat with its tail on fire.
I saw it.
That Korean girl! Yinna of Starlight Girls! Why is she in Los Angeles? What exactly is your relationship with her?!
David's barrage of questions came like a machine gun.
You have to tell me the truth, Lin! This is the most crucial period of your career's ascent! Kobe just vouched for you, the entire league is talking about you!
Any negative scandal, especially a cross-border romance scandal like this, could destroy everything we've built! Sponsors will run away! The team management will also put pressure on you!
Lin Feng didn't speak, just listened quietly.
He could imagine the shrewd Jewish Agent on the other end of the phone, anxiously scratching his head.
Damn it! Why TMZ? These hyenas, they'll write anything!
David cursed into the phone.
Where are you now? In the apartment? Don't go out! Don't accept any interviews! Don't post anything on social media!
I know.
Lin Feng answered calmly.
You just know? Lin, this is no small matter! You must give me an explanation, a solution! I need to know how to deal with the media!
David's voice carried a hint of collapse.
I'll handle it.
Lin Feng's tone was unquestionable.
You handle it? How will you handle it? You're in the eye of the storm right now!
David.
Lin Feng interrupted him.
Trust me.
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the line.
David seemed to feel an inexplicable power from Lin Feng's terrifyingly calm tone.
...Alright.
David sighed, his tone softening.
I'll have the PR team hold them off for now, but you must give me a definitive answer as soon as possible. Remember, one wrong step, and everything is lost.
After hanging up, the room returned to quiet.
Lin Feng tossed his phone onto the sofa and walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window.
Outside the window, the dazzling lights of Beverly Hillsand the night view of Los Angeles were like an overturned jewelry box, luxurious and charming.
But at this moment, Lin Feng's mood was incredibly heavy.
For the first time, he clearly felt the immense pressure brought by the double-edged sword of
When he was just an unknown player, he could do whatever he wanted.
But when he stood in the spotlight and became the so-called
Any stain would be infinitely magnified.
A wave of irritation surged in his heart.
He forced himself to calm down.
He closed his eyes.
Eye of the Heavenly Emperor, activate!
This time, he observed not the court, but the huge, invisible net he was caught in.
Countless lines appeared and intertwined in his mind.
The TMZ news was a lit fuse.
He
First bomb: fan war.
His fans, the Lakers' fans, would engage in a destructive war of words with Yinna's K-POP fans online. Racism, personal attacks, and unspeakable comments would flood all social media platforms.
Second bomb: plummeting commercial value.
His newly established image as a
Third bomb: internal team turmoil.
The Lakers' management would never want their future core to be entangled in such chaotic gossip. This would affect the team's preparations and the locker room atmosphere. Kobe had just lifted him to this position, and he couldn't let his boss's efforts go to waste.
One by one, the lines of cause and effect clearly appeared in his mind.
Evasion and cold treatment would be the most foolish approach.
That would only allow the situation to escalate and eventually spiral out of control.
He had to take the initiative.
He had to control everything.
Lin Feng opened his eyes, his gaze once again sharp and determined.
He walked back to the sofa and picked up his phone.
He ignored the countless missed calls and messages on it.
He found Yinna's number and drafted a message.
The content was simple.
Welcome to Los Angeles.
Stay safe, I'll contact you.
Sent.
This message was both a comfort and a promise.
He told her that he knew and that he would take responsibility.
After doing all this, Lin Feng felt the irritation in his heart finally subside.
He put his phone on silent, tossed it aside, and prepared to take a shower to clear his head.
Just as he stood up.
Ding-dong—
The doorbell suddenly rang.
Lin Feng's body stiffened.
Who could it be at this hour?
Reporters? Impossible, security here is very strict.
David? He just finished his call, he couldn't have gotten here so quickly.
Taylor? Scarlett?
He walked to the door and looked out through the peephole.
The person standing at the door made him freeze.
It wasn't any of the goddesses he was entangled with.
It was his teammate, Nick Young.
Even more surprising was that Nick Young's face lacked his usual signature, nonchalant smile.
Instead, there was an unprecedented seriousness and solemnity.
Chapter 82: A Teammate's "Advice"
Lin Feng opened the door.
The Nick Young standing at the door was a world apart from the image in his memory of someone who always wore a goofy smile.
He wasn't smiling; he just looked at Lin Feng with a complex emotion in his eyes that Lin Feng had never seen before.
There was worry, scrutiny, and a hint of the understanding that comes from someone who has been through it all.
"Lin."
Nick Young spoke, his voice low.
"I saw the news."
He didn't beat around the bush and stated his purpose directly.
"I'm not here to gossip."
"I'm here to warn you."
Lin Feng stepped aside to let him in.
Nick Young walked into the luxurious apartment, looked around, and his gaze lingered for a moment on the massive floor-to-ceiling windows and the brilliant night view outside.
He didn't whistle or marvel at the luxury as he usually would.
He turned to face Lin Feng, his expression still serious.
"The water here is much deeper than you think, Lin."
Nick Young, a player known in the league for being 'unreliable' and the 'isolation king,' seemed like a different person at this moment.
He was like an old veteran who had survived many years in the vanity fair of Los Angeles.
"In this city, it's too easy to destroy a star."
"Sometimes, the one who defeats you isn't even an opponent on the court."
His gaze became somewhat distant, as if he were remembering certain past events.
"Here, the women around you can be scarier than your opponents."
"I've seen too many talented guys fall because of this."
"One day they're the chosen one, and the next they're drowned in media vitriol, entangled in various sex scandals, their form plummeting until they eventually fade into obscurity."
"They will dig up everything about you—your past, your family, every word you've said—and then look at it through a magnifying glass to distort and fabricate."
"You think you're just dating? No, in their eyes, this is a headline that can be converted into US dollars."
Nick Young's tone was calm, but every word carried a chilling sense of reality.
Lin Feng listened quietly.
He knew everything Nick Young said was true.
But he hadn't expected that the first person to come and tell him this wouldn't be Kobe or his Agent David, but this teammate who usually seemed the most unreliable.
"We all heard what Kobe said at the press conference today."
Nick Young's eyes refocused on Lin Feng's face, becoming incredibly serious.
"He handed the future to you."
"To be honest, at first, many people weren't convinced, including me."
"But after tonight, everyone shut up."
"All of us are counting on you, counting on you to lead this bunch of old, weak, sick, and disabled players to do something great—at least, make the damn playoffs!"
"So..."
Nick Young took a step forward, staring into Lin Feng's eyes.
"Don't let all that messy stuff ruin everything at a time like this."
"That wouldn't just ruin you; it would ruin all of us and ruin Kobe's expectations."
The room fell silent.
Lin Feng could see a kind of sincerity in Nick Young's eyes.
It wasn't feigned; it was a heartfelt desire for victory and concern for the team's future.
At this moment, Lin Feng suddenly felt that he wasn't fighting alone.
Behind him stood a team.
There stood a group of teammates who craved victory just as much as he did.
This sudden sense of belonging to a team was like a warm current, dispelling the irritation and pressure in his heart caused by Yinna's arrival.
"Thank you, Nick."
Lin Feng spoke, his voice equally solemn.
"I understand."
He didn't offer much of an explanation, only a promise.
"I will handle everything."
Nick Young looked at him, and from Lin Feng's calm and determined gaze, he understood something.
The serious lines on his face finally relaxed, revealing a familiar, somewhat roguish smile.
"Good."
He patted Lin Feng's shoulder.
"Don't let us down, Your Majesty."
With that, he turned, gave a cool wave of his hand, and walked out of the apartment.
The door closed.
Lin Feng was alone in the room once again.
He stood there, digesting the "advice" Nick Young had brought.
He picked up his phone, which had been tossed on the sofa.
On the screen was a message he had just received.
It was from Yinna.
The content of the message was a short sentence and an address.
"Okay, I'll wait for you."
"I'm at..."
It was the address of a top-tier luxury hotel in Beverly Hills.
Lin Feng looked at the address, and his brow furrowed again.
He closed his eyes.
Eye of the Heavenly Emperor!
His brain began to work at high speed.
Countless images and possibilities flashed and were deduced in his mind.
Scene one: He changes clothes, puts on a hat and mask, and drives to the hotel.
Scene two: At the hotel entrance, paparazzi disguised as passersby press their shutters the moment he gets out of the car.
Scene three: He walks into the hotel lobby, the gazes of the front desk staff, the phone cameras of guests hiding in corners... countless invisible lenses are aimed at him.
Scene four: The next day, TMZ, major entertainment headlines, and sports headlines are all set off.
"Confirmed! Lakers' New King's Late-Night Private Meeting with K-POP Diva!"
"Secret Romance Exposed! Lin Feng's Public Image Crumbles!"
Bombs of public opinion are detonated one after another.
Fan wars, sponsors' doubts, team pressure, Kobe's disappointed eyes... all the consequences presented themselves in his mind like clear lines of cause and effect, finally converging into one result.
Walking right into a trap.
No.
Going directly to see her was the stupidest choice.
This game of chess couldn't be played like that.
He needed a plan.
A plan that could break the deadlock, or even take the initiative and move everyone's attention away from Yinna.
A foolproof strategy.
Lin Feng opened his eyes, walked to the wine cabinet, and poured himself a glass of water.
The cold liquid slid down his throat, clearing his mind even further.
A bold, even somewhat crazy idea gradually took shape in his heart... The next day.
The entire North American online world was once again boiling because of Lin Feng.
But this time, what ignited public opinion wasn't his god-tier performance on the court, nor was it that Korean girl who had come from afar.
It was another woman whose name also resonated across the globe.
TMZ, North America's largest gossip media outlet, published a set of exclusive high-definition photos in the most prominent position on their homepage.
The background of the photos was the entrance to the Lakers' heavily guarded private training facility.
A blonde figure wearing a simple summer dress and sunglasses stepped out of a black minivan.
She was tall and had a powerful aura; even in a candid shot, she was as beautiful as a painting.
It was none other than the music diva, Taylor Swift.
What was even more explosive were the next few photos.
Taylor Swift walked into the training facility without any obstacles.
On the sidelines, she stood side-by-side with Lin Feng, who had just finished training and was covered in sweat, talking intimately.
The clarity of the photos was extremely high, even showing the undisguised gaze of a smile and admiration as Taylor looked at Lin Feng.
And the headline TMZ provided for this set of photos was even more simple, direct, and explosive.
[Exclusive Visit! Taylor Swift and Lin Feng's "Training Facility Date"!]
Chapter 83: Open Scheme and Smoke Screen
TMZ's exclusive photos were like a nuclear bomb, exploding across North American social media.
[Exclusive Visit! Taylor Swift and Lin Feng's "Gym Date"!]
Under the eye-catching headline were several photos with ridiculously high clarity.
The blonde pop queen and the new king of basketball, his jersey soaked in sweat.
The two stood side by side, talking intimately.
On Taylor's face was undisguised admiration and a smile.
Public opinion went completely crazy!
Yesterday, people were still guessing who that masked Asian girl was.
Today, all focus was completely stolen by the appearance of Taylor Swift!
"I knew it! How could Lin Feng be interested in a K-POP star! His target is Taylor!"
"This is a match made in heaven! The new king of the sports world and the queen of the music world! This combo is top-tier!"
"I feel sorry for that Korean girl. She traveled thousands of miles only to find out she was just a smoke screen?"
The direction of the wind on the internet completed a shocking reversal in just one hour.
News about Yinna's arrival in Los Angeles was quickly drowned out by the "solid evidence of romance" between Taylor Swift and Lin Feng.
No one cared about that poor K-POP idol anymore.
Everyone's eyes were focused on this "Golden Couple."
The mastermind of it all, Lin Feng, after finishing his conversation with Nick Young late last night, did the first thing: he called Taylor Swift.
The call connected, and on the other end was still Taylor's energetic voice.
"Your Majesty the King, not asleep so late? Are you savoring the joy of victory?"
"Taylor."
Lin Feng's voice was very calm, without the slightest hint of a joke.
"I need your help."
Taylor on the other end was clearly stunned for a moment.
"Oh? It's truly my honor to have our new king ask for help."
Her tone carried a hint of playfulness.
"Tell me, what's the matter?"
Lin Feng walked to the window, looking at the lights of Beverly Hills.
"I'm in a bit of trouble regarding a girl—an innocent girl who has been targeted by the media."
"Uh-huh?"
Taylor's voice showed a hint of curiosity.
"The media lenses are like a pack of sharks smelling blood, surrounding her and not letting go."
Lin Feng's tone was heavy.
"I need a way to make their lenses move away from her."
There was a moment of silence on the other end.
Taylor Swift, a woman with a beast-like intuition for media and public opinion, instantly understood Lin Feng's meaning.
"So, you need a bigger target, a more explosive piece of news to attract those sharks' attention?"
"Yes."
Lin Feng was blunt.
"And I can't think of anyone who can attract the gaze of all of North America more than you."
Taylor on the other end gave a light laugh.
That laughter was full of confidence, pride, and a hint of a provoked competitive spirit.
"You mean, let me be your 'rumored girlfriend' to help you out?"
"Not a rumored girlfriend."
Lin Feng corrected her.
His voice carried a touch of playfulness.
"It's to let them see who the real leading lady is."
These words, like a stone thrown into a lake, accurately hit Taylor's heart.
The breathing on the other end became a bit hurried.
"Lin... you really know how to use your advantages."
"Likewise."
"Okay."
Taylor's voice returned to her queenly tone, decisive and crisp.
"Tell me the time and place."
"Tomorrow morning, at the Lakers' training facility."
"I'll make the world's lenses aim at us."
Thus, there were the photos that blew up the internet on the TMZ website today.
Taylor Swift perfectly fulfilled her promise.
She appeared high-profile at the training facility, handing Lin Feng a sports drink in front of all the media's telephoto lenses.
The two talked as if no one else was there; that intimate posture made all the reporters frantically press their shutters.
A perfect "open scheme" directed by Lin Feng himself was successfully staged.
All the pressure of public opinion was accurately shifted by him onto himself and Taylor.
While the true center of the storm, Yinna, was perfectly covered by this huge smoke screen.
Beverly Hills, Peninsula Hotel.
In the presidential suite on the top floor.
Yinna curled up on the sofa, holding her phone.
On the screen were the "date" photos of Taylor Swift and Lin Feng at the gym.
Lin Feng in the photos was covered in sweat, yet still so handsome it made one's heart race.
And the blonde woman beside him was smiling so brightly, so confidently.
Standing together, they really looked like a prince and princess from a fairy tale.
Yinna's face turned pale bit by bit.
She couldn't understand the English comments under the news, but the photos alone were enough to explain everything.
The phone vibrated.
It was a message from a teammate asking if she wanted to go to Santa Monica Beach for dinner together tonight.
She stared at the screen for a long time.
Then, she silently typed two words.
"Not going."
Send.
She threw the phone aside, hugged her knees, and buried her head deep inside.
Meanwhile.
Lin Feng's phone also vibrated.
It was a text message from Scarlett Johansson.
"Nice smoke screen. The Little Lion is starting to learn how to use his brain to hunt."
Lin Feng looked at the text and curled his lips.
This woman could always see through all his tricks at a glance.
He didn't reply.
Under the cover of the massive smoke screen, he finally gained a precious breathing space.
He dialed another number.
"Kobe."
"I need a car and a route that no one knows."
Kobe on the other end didn't ask a single unnecessary question.
"In half an hour, go to the B3 level of your apartment's underground garage. Black escalade, keys are in the car."
"Thanks, Boss."
The night grew deeper.
While all the paparazzi were waiting at the entrance of Taylor Swift's hotel and under Lin Feng's apartment building, hoping to capture some "follow-up"...
An inconspicuous black escalade quietly slipped out of another exit of Lin Feng's apartment and merged into the Los Angeles traffic.
Lin Feng drove, skillfully avoiding all sections of the road where cameras might be present, and arrived at the back door of the Peninsula Hotel.
Through the hotel manager whom Kobe had spoken to in advance, he used the staff passage and a private elevator to reach the top floor without obstruction.
He stood in front of Yinna's door and adjusted his breathing.
Then, using a spare key card, he gently swiped open the door.
No lights were on in the room.
Only the city's neon lights outside cast a faint glow.
A thin figure sat alone in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the brilliant night view outside.
That silhouette appeared incredibly frail, out of place in this luxurious city.
Hearing the sound of the door opening, the figure stiffened.
She slowly turned her head.
When she saw that the person standing at the door was Lin Feng, the mist that had been building up in those beautiful eyes could no longer be suppressed.
Large tears rolled down her cheeks, tracing two crystal lines in the darkness.
"Is everything... on the news true?"
With a heavy sob, she asked the question that made his heart wrench.
Chapter 84: Confession and Crisis
In the darkness, Yinna's tearful question pierced Lin Feng's heart like a long, thin icicle.
"The news... is it all true?"
Lin Feng looked into her tear-filled eyes, which were full of grievance, confusion, and a final, flickering spark of hope.
He didn't answer immediately.
The room was silent, save for her stifled sobs and the whispers of the city of Los Angeles, which never sleeps, outside the window.
Lying was the easiest choice.
But Lin Feng knew it was also the most foolish.
One lie would require countless more to cover it up. And the girl in front of him didn't deserve to be treated that way.
He slowly walked over to her and crouched down, bringing his gaze level with hers as she sat on the floor.
"The photos are real."
Lin Feng spoke, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable sincerity.
Yinna's body trembled, and the tears she had just managed to stop began to flow again.
"But the story is fake," Lin Feng added immediately.
He reached out to wipe away her tears, but she instinctively turned her head away.
Lin Feng's hand stopped in mid-air; he didn't pull back, but he didn't move forward either.
"Yinna, look at me."
His voice was soft, yet it possessed an irresistible power.
Yinna turned her head very, very slowly, looking at him through blurred, teary eyes.
"This is Los Angeles, this is Hollywood, the world's largest vanity fair."
"Here, skill is important, but exposure, connections, and buzz are just as vital."
"I'm just a rookie, an Asian with yellow skin. No matter how well I play, in their eyes, I'm still an outsider."
"I need allies. I need a way to keep all the cameras focused on me so they don't dare to ignore or suppress me so easily."
Lin Feng didn't speak quickly; he dissected the rules of this cruel world piece by piece, laying them out before Yinna.
"Taylor Swift, she's a pop queen and one of the top celebrities in this country. By standing with her, I can stand in the center of the spotlight."
"It's a transaction, a social relationship of mutual benefit. She needs the freshness and buzz I bring her, and I need the massive prestige she brings me."
"It's all for my career, to gain a firm foothold here."
What he said was half-truth and half-lie.
But every word carried the coldness of reality and the helplessness of doing what one must to survive.
Yinna's crying gradually subsided.
She looked into Lin Feng's eyes; there was no evasion or guilt, only a sense of openness.
She could feel that he wasn't lying to her.
But... "What about me?"
She asked with a sob.
"What am I? That... that smokescreen in your news?"
"No."
Lin Feng's answer was firm and decisive.
He suddenly grabbed her cold hand.
Then, he pulled up his sleeve to reveal his wrist.
On that fair skin, there was a scar that had faded significantly but was still clearly visible.
"Do you remember this?"
Lin Feng's voice became incredibly gentle.
Yinna's gaze fell on the scar, and her pupils quivered.
Of course she remembered.
It was months ago, in South Korea, in that chaotic underground parking lot.
He had gotten it when his wrist was slashed while saving her from an out-of-control car.
That was the beginning of their story.
"This was the start of our story, and I will never forget it," Lin Feng said, staring into her eyes, emphasizing every word.
"Taylor Swift is the 'leading lady' for the whole world to see."
"But you..."
He leaned closer and whispered in her ear in a voice only the two of them could hear.
"...are mine alone."
Boom.
Those last words hit the softest part of Yinna's heart like a warm electric current.
In that moment, all her grievances, insecurities, and suspicions were completely shattered.
She couldn't hold back anymore and lunged into Lin Feng's arms, weeping loudly.
This time, it was a catharsis, a release.
Lin Feng held her tightly, feeling her tremble in his arms.
He gently patted her back, as if soothing a frightened kitten.
His face was filled with an inseparable tenderness.
But his heart was filled with guilt.
He knew he had only used his high emotional intelligence and clever words to temporarily defuse a bomb.
But the fuses to those bombs were still clutched in his hand.
This dangerous balance wouldn't last long.
He held Yinna, enjoying this brief moment of warmth while also sensing the crisis that could erupt at any time.
The crying in his arms gradually subsided.
Yinna looked up, her eyes red and swollen like a rabbit's.
She looked at Lin Feng; though there was still a trace of fragility in her gaze, there was more of a rebuilt trust and dependence.
Just as the atmosphere had begun to soften.
"Buzz—Buzz—"
The urgent vibration of a cell phone broke the silence in the room.
It was Yinna's phone on the sofa.
Lin Feng held her and didn't let go.
Yinna hesitated for a moment before breaking free from his embrace to pick up the phone.
The name flashing on the screen was her Agent's.
She answered the call.
"Oppa?"
On the other end of the line, the Agent's Korean, frantic to the point of being out of tune, poured out like rapid-fire machine gun fire.
Lin Feng couldn't understand it.
But he saw Yinna's face drain of color at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The face that had been flushed from crying just moments ago instantly became paler than before, even taking on a look of terror.
"What?!"
Yinna let out a short cry of alarm.
The hand holding her phone began to shake uncontrollably.
A few seconds later, as if she had lost all her strength, the phone slipped from her hand and fell onto the soft carpet.
"What's wrong?" Lin Feng immediately stepped forward to support her swaying body.
Yinna looked up with hollow eyes, her lips trembling, unable to form a complete sentence for a long time.
"TMZ..."
"They... they..."
She took several deep breaths before squeezing out the words that had terrified her in a trembling voice.
"They caught... surveillance screenshots of you... entering the hotel's staff entrance!"
Lin Feng's heart sank abruptly.
Even though he had been careful enough, he had still underestimated how pervasive those hyenas were.
As if remembering something, Yinna frantically picked up the phone from the floor and clicked on the link her Agenthad just sent.
The homepage of TMZ, North America's largest gossip media outlet.
A headline even more eye-catching and explosive than the one from earlier that day appeared on the screen.
[The Pop Queen is Just a Smokescreen? Lin Feng's Late-Night Tryst with a Mysterious Woman—The Emotional Drama of the Year!]
Below the headline was a surveillance screenshot that, although blurry, still clearly showed the profile of Lin Feng's face!
The 'crematorium' situation had been completely publicized and ignited!
Almost at the same time, the phone in Lin Feng's pocket began to vibrate wildly.
Countless calls and messages flooded the screen like a tide, instantly overwhelming the entire interface.
Chapter 85: The Three Queens' "Declaration of War"
The homepage of the TMZ website.
That headline, more striking and explosive than daylight, burned fiercely into Yinna's pupils like a branding iron.
[The Diva Was Just a Smokescreen? Lin Feng's Late-Night Rendezvous with a Mysterious Woman, Staging the Emotional Drama of the Year!]
Below the headline was a surveillance screenshot that was blurry, yet still clearly showed the profile of Lin Feng!
The shura field had been completely exposed and detonated!
Lin Feng's heart sank to the bottom at that moment.
He knew he had underestimated the power of these media hyenas.
Almost simultaneously, the phone in Lin Feng's pocket began vibrating frantically at an unprecedented frequency.
The buzzing sound was like the death warrant of the Grim Reaper.
Countless calls and messages surged onto the screen like a breached tide, instantly overwhelming the entire interface.
David Falk.
Head of the Los Angeles Lakers Public Relations Department.
Team Manager Kupchak.
There were even several unfamiliar numbers from the League Headquarters.
His public relations team was completely paralyzed at this moment.
Three romantic relationships were exposed simultaneously, involving two world-class Divas and one Top K-Pop Idol.
A scandal of this magnitude was unheard of in the entire history of the NBA.
"How could this happen..."
Yinna's voice was shaking uncontrollably. She stared intently at the phone screen; that surveillance screenshot was a judgment letter to her.
"How did they manage to capture..."
Lin Feng didn't speak. He took Yinna's phone and closed the glaring webpage.
Then, he took out his own phone, which was about to explode, and immediately pressed the power-off button.
The world was finally quiet, for now.
"It's okay."
He held Yinna's shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes.
"I'm here. The sky won't fall."
His voice was steady, as if the massive storm outside had nothing to do with him.
But just then, Yinna's phone lit up again.
It wasn't a call, but a social media notification.
The source of the notification was Taylor Swift's official account.
She had just posted an update.
There was no picture, no video, just a short English lyric.
"I knew you were trouble when you walked in."
(I knew you were trouble when you walked in.)
This lyric came from one of her most popular singles.
But the meaning was self-evident when posted at this particular moment.
This was a public statement.
It was a separation, a drawing of a clear line, and even more, a resentful "victim" declaration.
She told the world in the most Taylor Swift way possible—that she was also one who had been kept in the dark.
Yinna looked at the English sentence. Although she couldn't fully understand it, she recognized the word "trouble."
She could also sense the overwhelming rage of a Queenemanating from behind that sentence.
Her face grew paler.
Things were heading in the worst and most chaotic direction.
And this was only the beginning.
A few minutes later, another news story popped up.
Hollywood's top actress, Scarlett Johansson, issued a brief yet powerful statement to the media through her spokesperson.
"Mr. Lin and I are merely friends."
"However, I believe that adults have the right to choose their private lives, and this should not be over-interpreted or interfered with."
This statement was a masterpiece.
On the surface, it severed all ties, with the phrase "merely friends" cleanly distancing herself.
But the latter half seemed to be defending Lin Feng, adopting a sophisticated, condescending attitude of watching a show.
As if saying: This Little Lion has caused quite a bit of trouble, but that's his own business.
It was a sophisticated show of support, and also a sophisticated form of distancing.
This woman was always so clever, so flawless.
If Taylor's response was a sharp sword aimed at Lin Feng, then Scarlett's statement was a shield watching the fire from the other side of the bank.
Two Queens, two completely different attitudes.
Making the already chaotic situation even more turbulent.
Lin Feng looked at these two news items, his heart turning cold.
He realized for the first time how powerless his proud [Eye of the Heavenly Emperor] was outside of the basketball court.
He could see through all the tactics on the court, but he couldn't see through the hearts of these three women.
Just then, Yinna, who had been silent, suddenly made an unexpected move.
With trembling hands, she opened her personal social media account.
Her Agency had just released an official statement claiming that she and Lin Feng were just ordinary friends, and their late-night meeting was to discuss future music collaboration.
This was a weak and unbelievable excuse.
But Yinna uploaded a new photo below that official statement.
In the photo, she wasn't visible, only an open notebook.
The notebook was densely covered with Chinese Pinyinand characters.
The handwriting was graceful, showing the dedication put into practicing.
And below the photo, she added a sentence in Korean.
"I am trying hard to enter your world, so please wait for me."
This sentence formed a stark contrast with the cold statement from her Agency.
This was a girl's most helpless yet bravest confession right in the eye of the storm.
She chose neither to distance herself nor to hide.
She used her most clumsy yet most sincere way to show her feelings to everyone, including Lin Feng.
Lin Feng looked at the photo and the Korean sentence, his heart feeling tightly clenched by a hand.
Three top Goddesses.
Responded to the incident in three completely different ways.
One publicly drew a line.
One ambiguously watched the fire from afar.
One bravely rushed into the fire like a moth.
The public opinion nuclear bomb detonated by TMZcompletely spiraled out of control after the three female leads personally stepped in.
Lin Feng's image plummeted from the highly anticipated "Los Angeles Golden Boy" in just a few hours.
"Playboy."
"Time Management Master."
"The NBA's Number One Scumbag."
Various labels filled with mockery and denigration surged toward him overwhelmingly.
His commercial value was hanging by a thread.
Several major brands he was negotiating with began to adopt an ambiguous attitude.
There were even rumors that some brands were considering suspending all cooperation with him.
The League President's Office also conveyed a severe warning through his Agent, demanding that he immediately resolve his personal image issues and avoid bringing negative impacts to the entire league.
Internal and external troubles.
Lin Feng was caught in the biggest public relations crisis, and life crisis, since obtaining the System.
He stood before the floor-to-ceiling window of the Presidential Suite, looking at the still-bustling Los Angeles night view outside, yet feeling trapped in an airtight cage.
Yinna, in his arms, had cried herself to sleep due to excessive shock and exhaustion.
He gently carried her to the bed and tucked her in.
Then, he walked back to the living room alone and lit a cigarette.
He didn't know how he should conclude this affair.
Apologize? Apologize to whom?
Explain? Who would listen to his explanation?
This game of chess seemed to have reached a stalemate.
Just as he was frantic and at a loss.
The phone he had turned off rang persistently again after being switched back on.
The name on the caller ID made Lin Feng's pupils contract slightly.
Kobe Bryant.
He hesitated for a moment, then answered the call.
On the other end of the line, there was no questioning, no anger, only silence.
After a long pause, Kobe's familiar, husky voice finally spoke, unusually calm.
"Come to the Arena."
Lin Feng was stunned.
"Right now, the only thing that can save you is basketball."