Chapter Twenty-Eight: Completely Ablaze

A university in New York.

“Hey, Carlos, did you watch yesterday’s game?”

“Of course. The Knicks lost again.”

After that, Carlos and his friend got back to studying, since there was nothing left to talk about.

The game between the Knicks and the Raptors had no spectacular goals, no clashes, no stars trading buckets, no breathtaking comebacks. The process of the match was almost negligible, and the only thing worth discussing was the outcome.

And as always, the Knicks lived up to expectations—they lost again.

So, there wasn’t much else to say.

Just then, another fan chimed in, “Watching the Knicks now? That’s self-inflicted misery. I recommend watching the Clippers. Yesterday, the Clippers beat the league-leading Pistons, and Big Ben got physical again—almost sparked a second Palace brawl.”

At these words, Carlos and his friend perked up with interest.

Everyone loves gossip.

Sure, players fighting with fans isn’t right, but the crowd always hopes for more excitement like that.

“Too bad, He’s provocation was stopped in time. But his game-winning shot against the Pistons was absolutely brilliant, could easily rank among the top ten in history.”

Another joined in the conversation.

“Yeah, that shot was so cool. Damn, someday I’m going to pull off something like that on the court. If I make it, the girls will definitely scream for me.”

“How cool was it? Was it as cool as his game-winner against the Spurs?”

“Pretty much, just as impressive. He first shook Hamilton to the floor, then deliberately waited for Hamilton to get up before draining the shot at the buzzer. Talk about nerves of steel.”

“After he hit the game-winner, he dived into the arms of a gorgeous woman courtside and stole her lollipop. Hilarious.”

“What’s interesting is, after the game, Hamilton admitted He was strong—and said he was a fan.”

“I don’t buy it. No way.”

...

More and more fans jumped into the conversation, all talking about the Clippers vs. Pistons game.

On the 15th, there were actually seven games played, but most of them were mundane.

It was just Team A beating Team B, Player A scoring twenty points, Player B grabbing ten boards, Player C underperforming.

These trivialities happen every NBA game day, nothing worth mentioning.

But while the rest of the games offered little to report, the Clippers were a gold mine of material.

Upset over the league-leading Pistons, Big Ben shoving the rookie, He Xinghui ‘saluting’ Artest by provoking the crowd, He Xinghui humiliating Hamilton, He Xinghui’s game-winning shot against the Pistons, He Xinghui brazenly flirting in broad daylight...

Good grief, any of these could be headline news and guaranteed to captivate fans.

As a result, the media ignored the other games, all rushing to cover the Clippers vs. Pistons.

The sports section was flooded with stories about these two teams, as if they were the only ones playing that day.

When these stories hit, they naturally caused a huge stir, sparking widespread discussion.

And inevitably, the focus shifted to He Xinghui.

By the 17th, many in the media industry noticed that He Xinghui was on fire—blazing hot.

Ninety percent of topics discussed in the sports section involved He Xinghui.

There was no helping it; He Xinghui was simply too compelling, too prolific.

Just the rivalry between a rookie and Kobe could keep fans talking for ages.

The debate over whether trash talk was worth using could last just as long.

And besides, He Xinghui’s news never stopped.

From verbal battles with the Heat, dancing with Shaq, pioneering premature celebration moves, replicating the T-Mac moment, and now, a game-winning shot against the Pistons.

With such relentless publicity, American fans saw He Xinghui’s name everywhere, heard his stories everywhere.

The more fans participated in the discussion, the more his reputation snowballed.

It was reminiscent of internet memes a decade later—some people couldn’t help but get involved, and as more joined in, the meme exploded.

A university in Los Angeles.

A student named Rocky launched a three-pointer and immediately turned away.

The ball went in.

“Oh my God, He moment!”

Female students on the sidelines screamed, each rushing to hand him water.

Rocky grinned wide, beaming with joy.

Though he’d failed to show off twelve times before, the satisfaction this time made it all worthwhile.

On another court, a player shot and immediately headed for the sideline to drink water, mimicking He Xinghui’s bold move.

Unfortunately, he missed—didn’t even hit the rim.

“Loser, you think you’re He?”

The crowd booed.

“Who’s He?”

“You don’t know He?”

Curious fans asked, and were immediately looked down upon.

To avoid contempt, those unfamiliar with He or the meme were eager to ask around or search online.

Some, after learning about He Xinghui, couldn’t help but become fans themselves.

Rucker Park, a streetball game.

A black player named Allen talked trash throughout the match—his idol was He Xinghui, and he tried to play like him.

But he missed the essence, spewing not trash talk but profanity.

Eventually, his opponents lost patience and beat him up.

“This trick is really powerful. If it were an official game, all five would’ve been ejected. That would’ve been a huge contribution.”

Allen comforted himself with a dose of self-delusion and felt satisfied again.

“Boss, make the move. Forget an annual salary of ten million and forty thousand—even fourteen million is worth it. Do you know how popular he is now? Hill in ’95 was never this hot.”

Reebok’s marketing manager, Lawrence, said to the CEO.

Reebok’s situation was dire; the company was burdened by nearly five hundred million dollars in debt.

In sneakers, they couldn’t compete with the two giants, Nike and Adidas.

In the original timeline, Adidas would acquire them next year.

Now, Lawrence wanted to struggle a bit longer—he saw value in He Xinghui’s advertising potential.

Though He Xinghui’s superstar prospects remained uncertain, Lawrence believed in his ability to generate headlines.

In his view, even if He Xinghui’s skills couldn’t reach the top tier, his knack for stirring things up would ensure their investment wasn’t wasted.

“Lawrence, we don’t have money left for marketing.”

The CEO said.

“If we secure this endorsement, someone will definitely lend us the money.”

Lawrence continued to argue his point.

Meanwhile, Nike and Adidas were holding emergency meetings as well.

Their agendas were similar—land He Xinghui’s endorsement, at all costs, immediately.