Chapter Four: After the Match

On the Clippers' side, Brand and the others all praised He Xinghui for his brilliant play—not because he scored six points, but because he managed to provoke Kobe Bryant. That was an achievement in itself; not just any player could anger Kobe. At the very least, you had to be at the level of someone like Payton to be worthy of Kobe's attention. Seeing Kobe lose his temper made them all quite happy, and the reason was simple: jealousy. Kobe was more famous, earned more money, and naturally, that rubbed them the wrong way.

“Well done, keep it up,” said Dunleavy, delighted. He’d always felt He Xinghui’s performance in practice was average, but it turned out he was a game-time player. Just being able to rile up the opposing team's superstar made him worth grooming—he could be put in during crucial moments to disrupt the opponent.

The game continued. While the Curry three-point shooting package was still effective, He Xinghui sank another three-pointer. After that, he stopped shooting and focused on defense. He kept trying to provoke Kobe with trash talk, but Kobe was now unmoved. Superstars have extraordinary self-adjustment abilities; Kobe had just been caught off guard by He Xinghui’s earlier outburst, but under normal circumstances, he wasn’t so easily angered.

Trash talk could only ever be an auxiliary tactic—it would never truly decide the outcome of a game. Otherwise, instead of ten strong men on the court, you’d have ten old ladies.

Unable to anger Kobe, He Xinghui shifted his focus and approached Smush Parker. Parker’s expression immediately resembled that of a desperate creature from a comedy, inwardly screaming, “Don’t come near me!”

“I hear you’re a point guard, averaging three assists per game?” He Xinghui remarked.

“......”

Parker was frustrated; he couldn’t explain to He Xinghui that his low assist numbers were because Kobe liked to hold the ball for a couple of steps before shooting, which made him seem insecure. But without explaining, the rookie wouldn’t understand, and just looking at the stats, he’d look down on him.

Still, Parker was used to being criticized and didn’t get too upset, contributing only five points of anger—a token gesture.

............

When the game ended, He Xinghui had played a total of seven minutes, making four of six shots, three of four from beyond the arc, scoring eleven points, with one rebound, one assist, and one technical foul.

His offensive performance was impressive, defense average—he’d been tormented by Kobe. Throughout the game, he accumulated 325 anger points, with Kobe contributing 310 of them. After spending 100, He Xinghui still had 225 anger points left, which he used to upgrade his individual defense attribute to a C. The remaining 125 points he saved for later.

He didn’t have much ball control on offense and didn’t dare take too many risks. Defense, on the other hand, was always needed, so he decided to focus on improving his defensive strength first.

Thanks to the outstanding performances of He Xinghui and Brand, the team defeated the Lakers 105 to 101. Kobe scored 34 points and became the leader of the “empty stats club.”

Brand had 23 points and 16 rebounds; at this time, the captain was indeed fierce.

After the game, He Xinghui was surprisingly interviewed by a reporter.

Scoring eleven points in his debut as the 60th pick was impressive, especially considering he was a Chinese player, and most importantly, he’d traded trash talk with Kobe—that was the real headline.

“Hello, He. Eleven points in your debut. How does it feel?” asked Audrey from ABC.

“Pretty good,” He Xinghui replied, a bit nervous for his first-ever interview. He was still excited—facing Kobe and scoring eleven points was simply unbelievable, pure happiness.

“We saw you trash talking with Kobe throughout the game. Can you tell us what you said? Kobe didn’t seem too happy,” Audrey pressed.

“Uh... Actually, it wasn’t much. I just gave him a nickname.”

“What nickname?”

“Ferric oxide. In Chinese, the pronunciation sounds just like ‘four fade-away shots, three iron misses.’”

Audrey burst out laughing, amused that a rookie dared to give Kobe such a mocking nickname.

At the post-game press conference, Kobe was also asked about He Xinghui.

“He’s a very distinctive player. I look forward to playing against him again.”

Kobe wasn’t bothered by a bit of trash talk; although He Xinghui’s words were piercing, they were witty and didn’t cross into vulgar insults. Having endured trash talk from the likes of Garnett and others, Kobe thought He Xinghui wasn’t bad.

“We noticed you exchanged trash talk with him during the game, and it seemed you were angered and responded with an elbow.”

A reporter tried to stir things up.

“I wasn’t angry—that was just a normal play. If anything, He was too fragile. As for his trash talk, it was pretty good—on par with Gary.”

Of course, Kobe wouldn’t admit he’d been angered for a moment, but he did acknowledge He Xinghui’s trash talk, saying it could rival Gary Payton.

This surprised many reporters; Payton was famous in the league for his big mouth and was dubbed the king of trash talk. To be compared with him was an achievement.

Back in China, although the game was over, Coach Zhang was still praising He Xinghui.

“Eleven points in seven minutes—what efficiency! Look at his teammates: Kaman, the sixth pick in ’04, played thirty minutes for only nine points; even All-Star Cassell had just seventeen...”

“Hopefully he can stay consistent and keep improving,” Yu Jia added.

“He should be able to. With that fearless personality, he’ll do well in America,” Coach Zhang said, half explaining, half wishing. He hoped China would produce more basketball talent.

“Amazing! Remember, Yao didn’t score at all in his debut. Doesn’t that mean He is even better?”

“You can’t compare based on one game. Yao’s talent is undeniable.”

“I think he’ll do well in the NBA. Look at how he trash talks Kobe non-stop—his mysterious confidence is unmatched.”

In a small shop, a group of high schoolers who had skipped class to watch the live broadcast were full of expectations for He Xinghui after the game.

In Los Angeles, He Xinghui lay in his rented room, savoring everything that had just happened.

In his previous life, he hadn’t even gotten Kobe’s autograph, but now he’d scored eleven points right over Kobe’s head. Incredible...

He also took stock of his current situation.

He was eighteen years old, from Shaoguan, Guangdong. His father had worked at a state-owned enterprise and passed away in a work accident when He was ten, leaving only his mother.

At sixteen, he’d come to the United States as an exchange student, played college basketball and averaged twenty points per game, and was drafted by the Pistons.

“Who would have thought I’m a genius?”

He Xinghui realized he’d not only inherited the basketball talent of his predecessor, but also musical and linguistic abilities.

He was satisfied with everything so far. He’d signed a two-year, $1.2 million rookie contract and didn’t lack for money. With the system to boost his abilities, his dream was within reach.

He was now eagerly anticipating the next game.

He checked online to scout his next opponent.

To deliver more effective trash talk, he needed to understand his opponent’s personality and sensitive points.

Heat?

He Xinghui saw that the next opponent was the Miami Heat, featuring not only Shaquille O’Neal and Dwyane Wade, but also Gary Payton, who called himself the king of trash talk.

He Xinghui thought Payton was a bit of a braggart; at least Larry Bird’s trash talk was more refined.

What weaknesses did Payton have? Riding coattails? Being outplayed by Jordan? Putting up great stats but never making the All-Star starting lineup?