"It's good! It went in! God as my witness, you are witnessing history! A buzzer-beating game-winner for the Red Raiders!"
The commentator's roar was completely swallowed by the deafening wall of sound. Bench players and staff from TTU stormed the court like madmen, instantly submerging Xu Ling, the man who had delivered the dagger, in a sea of bodies. The cheers threatened to blow the roof clean off United Spirit Arena.
Amid the pandemonium, Xu Ling fought his way through the crowd. He did not look at the ecstatic fans, nor did he linger in the celebration with his teammates. His gaze swept sharply across the floor and locked precisely onto a lone figure frozen in place—Kevin Durant.
Durant stood with his head hung low, hands resting on his knees, all his strength seemingly drained by a crushing sense of defeat. He had just plummeted straight out of heaven. His fierce roar of "You can't guard me!" was still ringing in his ears, yet now it had turned into the most piercing mockery imaginable.
Xu Ling parted the crowd and walked straight up to Durant.
For a moment, the surrounding roar seemed to fall dead silent.
Xu Ling stopped, his voice calm and pitched so only the two of them could hear. "I heard you." He paused, as if recalling the exact phrasing. "You said, 'No matter how hard I try, I can't guard you.'"
Durant snapped his head up, wondering what victory speech Xu Ling was about to deliver.
Meeting his gaze, Xu Ling showed not a shred of smugness—only a cold, matter-of-fact composure.
"So," Xu Ling continued, "I just had to prove that there are plenty of ways to beat you, and I simply chose the one you'd find hardest to swallow."
Without waiting to see Durant's face twist into an ugly grimace, Xu Ling turned on his heel and walked back toward his teammates, who were still celebrating like wild men.
The arena reverberated with fierce roars, cheers, and high-pitched screams, while countless basketball insiders etched Xu Ling's name deep into their memories.
***
"Good morning, students! Remember, the path under your feet is the path Eli walked! If you want to become a superstar of tomorrow just like him, then get moving! Fight, young people, fight!"
The morning campus broadcast of Texas Tech University blared across the grounds, the voice practically dripping with unabashed excitement.
Xu Ling felt a wave of embarrassment. He knew all about the trope of becoming an overnight sensation, but he had never imagined it would happen to him quite like this.
Right now, Xu Ling was walking toward the classroom building with his arm around a stack of textbooks alongside Roderick Craig. Craig, a six-foot-seven big man, was chewing on a sandwich as he mumbled around a mouthful of food, "Eli, our Sports Management exam is in a few days. You feeling confident? I heard you've been so busy playing hero lately that you haven't even opened a book."
Before Xu Ling could answer, three blonde girls suddenly darted out from the side of the walkway. The girl in front was wearing a Red Raiders No. 1 jersey and holding up a makeshift "ring box" crafted out of cardboard.
"Eli, marry me!"
Xu Ling froze in his tracks. Craig spat out his food in a fit of laughter, sandwich crumbs spraying ten feet across the pavement.
"Hahahahaha!" Craig slapped his thigh. "Damn, bro, looks like your on-court dominance has spread straight to the dating scene! Want me to take the ring for you?"
"Cut the crap!" Xu Ling took a wide detour around them, his face practically screaming *leave me alone*.
Craig caught up, winking mischievously. "Be honest, you really not tempted at all? Those are Texas hotties!"
"Way too forward for me," Xu Ling said, acting like a seasoned playboy. "I prefer women with... more substance."
Hearing that, Craig chuckled. "If they found out your standards were like that, I bet every girl you meet from here on out will act like a proper lady!"
Ducking out of the crowds, Xu Ling and Craig returned to their dorm, where the conversation shifted back to NBA mock drafts.
Craig grew animated the moment he brought up Xu Ling's draft stock, looking as thrilled as if he were the one bound for the league.
"Did you see? Chad Ford rushed out an emergency mock draft update this morning."
"Oh yeah?"
"He's got you at number six! And get this—people are already chewing him out for ranking you that low!"
"Why?"
"Because most folks think you belong in the top three. Chad Ford thinks you still have to prove yourself in March Madness before you're worthy of a top-three pick."
Taking down a superstar on the court carried undeniable weight.
Xu Ling remembered how Rui Hachimura's college draft projection had once climbed all the way to third overall after he led Gonzaga to an upset over a Duke team headlined by Zion Williamson, RJ Barrett, and Cam Reddish.
Then again, the NBA ultimately evaluated prospects through an entirely different lens.
In that sense, Ford's perspective was completely sound.
Craig then asked about the draft itself: "Eli, once our freshman season wraps up, are you going to declare?"
Xu Ling didn't hide his intentions. "If my draft stock doesn't fall between now and then, I don't see any reason to stay in school."
"Oh, so does that mean I'll get to play as you in NBA Live next year?"
"Probably..." Xu Ling thought. *Though are you sure it won't be NBA 2K?*
Xu Ling really wasn't familiar with the history of basketball video games. Born in the 2000s, he had only ever known 2K. And because Take-Two held a virtual monopoly in the 2020s, they had completely lost their competitive drive, settling for rolling out lazy, reskinned updates year after year.
After resting in the dorm for a bit, Xu Ling and Craig headed to the gym. On the way, Xu Ling could still feel the lingering euphoria of knocking off the Longhorns hanging over the campus. Media, professors, and students alike were all talking feverishly about the game.
Inside the Womble Center, however, Head Coach Bob Knight had already turned the page.
As Xu Ling stepped onto the floor, Martin Zeno, sitting by the sideline, warned him, "You guys better be on your best behavior today!"
"Why?" Xu Ling asked, though what he really meant was, *when aren't we on our best behavior?*
"Coach looks like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed."
The moment Zeno said it, Xu Ling understood.
The old man was always like this, scowling day in and day out, hunting for mistakes like that ruthless bald sociopath in *Whiplash*.
Spotting Xu Ling, Knight barked, "Look who showed up—our hero!"
"Do heroes get special privileges?" Xu Ling asked.
Knight sneered. "If you think you're getting privileges, you'll be the first hero in TTU history to face a firing squad!"
Even though they had just toppled Texas, and even though the Red Raiders were currently sitting second in the Big 12, Knight showed no sign of softening. He personally ran the day's practice, and anyone who had expected an easy session paid a steep price.
"Did you bastards honestly think that riding the hero's coattails to a lucky win over Texas means you can slack off in practice?!"
"Goddammit, Darryl, why can't you ever learn to play basketball with some urgency?! Where's your effort? Where's your professionalism? You think you're going to land a job after graduation with that kind of attitude?!"
"J.J.! You are the worst defender I have ever seen! Hear me? You are the absolute worst!"
Practice was agonizing for most of the team, but fortunately, it only lasted two hours before wrapping up.
Afterward, Xu Ling went right to work putting up shots from the NBA three-point line.
Compared to the short, quaint college arc of the NCAA at the time, the NBA stripe was practically deep-ball territory.
Watching Xu Ling shoot with an air that said *I'm heading to the NBA soon, I don't have time to mess around with your college drills*, Knight felt his temper flare.
"Eli!"
Xu Ling glanced over, his face reading: *What's up? Something wrong?*
"You think you're special?"
"Saying no would be pretty hypocritical." TTU's Jordan was clearly saying: *Yeah, I am special.*
"You're not special at all!" Knight yelled. "Compared to freaks like Kevin Durant and Greg Oden, you're ordinary! There isn't a single special thing about you from head to toe, you hear me?!"
Xu Ling wasn't arrogant enough to believe he was truly extraordinary, but the old man definitely seemed off his rocker today.
"I don't get it," Xu Ling replied. "I think I am special."
TTU's Jordan successfully choked the words right out of The General.
Knight had to take several deep breaths to steady himself. His eyes narrowed fiercely. "I have had it up to here with you, you cocky bastard. You better know what you're doing. I don't want to see you taking those damn deep threes anymore—it's the absolute worst shot in basketball! You either practice from the standard line or you start running laps!"
"I decline."
"What?"
"Practice is over. My time is my own right now," Xu Ling said defiantly. "Even if Jesus stood here and told me that, I wouldn't listen."
"Fine! Fine! Fine!" Knight spat out a furious laugh. "Then go ahead and keep jacking up your stupid, useless deep threes!"
Knight whirled around and stormed off.
Xu Ling still found the whole thing baffling. He looked over at Pat Knight and asked, "Does his contract have a clause requiring him to blow up at us once a day? Does he get fined if he misses a day?"
A chorus of suppressed chuckles rippled through the gym.
At TTU, Xu Ling was the only one with the guts to speak about Knight like that.
In a way, Xu Ling's presence had dismantled Knight's iron rule. He showed the other players that as long as your game was strong enough, not even The General could touch you.
At first, several players had harbored quiet resentment toward Xu Ling—the freshman was simply too dazzling, hogging all the spotlight. But halfway through the season, Xu Ling had proven on the court that he operated on a completely different tier from everyone else.
The veterans had made peace with it, but what truly earned their admiration was the rookie's willingness to stand up to Knight's authority.
This was the same Bob Knight who had a history of choking, kicking, and punching players, yet he couldn't do a thing to Xu Ling.
None of them dared to imitate him, but Xu Ling's presence took an enormous weight off their shoulders.
***
Knight had no idea what was wrong with him today. Hearing the campus radio gush over Xu Ling's heroics from the night before, and watching national sports outlets incessantly hype "TTU's Jordan," a long-lost, almost feverish thrill had flared inside him—only to be swiftly followed by a deeper, suffocating wave of dread and panic.
The last time he had felt this way was twenty years ago. He wished he were young again, wished he still possessed the boundless energy to guide this transformed team all the way to glory on Xu Ling's back. But the sweeter the taste of victory, the more agonizing the inevitable awakening. Everything Xu Ling did screamed that there was no way he would stick around for a second college season.
The moment they lost Xu Ling, this entire season's glory would burst like a soap bubble. They would regress right back to where they started, and he would still be who he was: an old man shouting about reviving TTU while knowing deep in his heart that he was powerless to turn back the clock.
He would never get the chance to coach another Xu Ling, and the dizzying plunge from the clouds back down to earth threatened to swallow him whole. He couldn't bear it.
That was why he had lost his temper today when he saw Xu Ling working to adapt to the NBA three-point line to prepare for his future. It wasn't so much anger as it was the desperate lash of a man watching his most precious treasure slip away through the hourglass.
Once his head cooled, however, regret crept in.
After the gym had emptied, Knight walked into the locker room. The chatter died down the moment he stepped inside. Xu Ling had already changed into his street clothes and was listening intently to team captain Jarrius Jackson—a devout Christian—deliver a bit of earnest advice.
Then Knight appeared, heading straight for him.
"I don't like the things I do." Knight's words startled Xu Ling. *What is this old man doing? Apologizing? No way—* "But somebody has to do them. Somebody has to raise hell. Personally, I don't think you boys know how to guide yourselves to do the right thing, so I have to be the one to push you onto the right path."
The question was: who defined what was right?
Xu Ling remained silent.
Knight turned his gaze to Jackson. "J.J., you're always talking about God. Well, let me tell you something: God isn't going to give this basketball team any guidance. He doesn't give a damn whether we win or lose. He isn't going to parachute down from the ceiling of this building to hit a bucket when we need one. My father used to tell me that God only helps those who help themselves. And another thing—actually, no, let me ask you this first: do you honestly think God is going to help this team?"
Jackson was struck speechless. He genuinely felt that arguing theology with a man as profane as Knight was a lost cause.
"So..." Xu Ling played along with Knight's logic, keeping a deadpan expression as he quipped, "Coach, are you saying that through all this 'humanitarian persecution,' you're just giving J.J. an early taste of hellfire so you can pave his way to heaven?"
"Go to hell, Eli!" Knight nearly cracked a smile at the kid's absurd logic, though he kept his face strictly stern. "And let me tell you one last time: no bastard who doesn't play defense is going to heaven!"
And with that, the day's sermon came to a close.
Chapter 21