Most of Yang Shuai's impressions of Miami came from American television dramas, where the city was depicted as a glittering capital of luxury and indulgence.
When he arrived at the lavish villa hosting the party, those impressions blended seamlessly into reality.
Fine liquor, cigars, a swimming pool, and of course, gorgeous women in bikinis—the air was thick with the scent of money and hormones.
Yang Shuai even spotted Miami Heat president Pat Riley among the crowd.
Upon seeing Riley, Dell Curry told Stephen to show Yang Shuai around, then stepped forward with a smile to say hello.
Yang Shuai strolled through the party with Stephen, who was frequently recognized and greeted by guests.
Stephen had accompanied his father to all kinds of high-profile events since childhood, and since he was the guest of honor tonight, the attention was only to be expected.
Stephen was down-to-earth as well; whenever someone came up to greet him, he made a point of introducing Yang Shuai by his side.
After making a full lap around the venue, Stephen finally settled down in an inconspicuous corner of the party.
Yang Shuai could sense that Stephen didn't truly enjoy occasions like this.
"Does your father want you to go to the Heat?" Yang Shuai asked after taking a seat, glancing toward Dell Curry and Riley, who were still chatting in the distance.
Stephen pursed his lips. "I don't know, but he's always hoped I'd play for a big-market team."
Yang Shuai couldn't help but smile at that.
Throughout his career, Dell Curry had bounced between the Jazz, Cavaliers, Hornets, Bucks, and Raptors. Without exception, those franchises had one thing in common: they were all situated in undeniably small markets.
Fathers often wished to see their sons achieve what they themselves never had.
While Miami wasn't quite on par with tier-one giants like New York or Los Angeles, it was definitely in the upper echelon.
"Going to the Heat wouldn't be a bad choice either. You'd get to team up with Dwyane Wade, and they need shooters," Yang Shuai said, breaking it down for him.
The Heat were the defending champions this season, but Shaquille O'Neal had declined sharply due to injuries. They currently sat fifth in the East and were projected to land only a mid-to-late first-round pick. Stephen's outstanding performance this season had already established his first-round stock, so he had a genuine chance of landing there.
Stephen shook his head. "That's still a bit far off for me. I need to stay in the NAA and keep developing my playmaking."
Stephen had a very clear understanding of his own profile. With his height and lack of elite physical tools, he could play as a combo guard in the NAA, but in the NBA, point guard was his only viable path.
Yang Shuai nodded. "That's a good plan too. Your current draft projection is too low anyway. You have the potential to be a lottery pick."
Yang Shuai spoke in a casual tone, but Stephen's face instantly flushed. He stared at Yang Shuai in disbelief, looking just as astonished as when Yang Shuai had first told him he was the savior of Wake Forest University.
"Me? A lottery pick?" It took Stephen quite a while to find his voice.
While the NBA draft had no hard rules, it followed an unspoken convention.
Mid-to-late second-rounders were scratch-off lottery tickets, and late first to early second-rounders were usually older, NBA-ready contributors. Those chosen as lottery picks, on the other hand, were almost exclusively pure talent prospects.
The logic was simple: draft order was determined by record, and the teams picking in the lottery were almost always in rebuilding mode.
"Top ten won't be an issue, and with a bit of luck, maybe even top five," Yang Shuai offered, giving a more specific forecast.
In his original timeline, Stephen had been selected seventh overall by the Golden State Warriors in 2009, a draft class generally considered weak at the time. Now, Stephen's development was progressing faster than before. If he still entered the draft in 2009, then even if Dell Curry threatened them, the Minnesota Timberwolves—who held the fifth and sixth picks and desperately needed a point guard—would undoubtedly take him with one of those selections. In fact, neither the Oklahoma City Thunder at three nor the Sacramento Kings at four would let him slip past.
Of course, if Stephen decided to enter the draft a year early in 2008, it would depend on his performance next season.
Judging by current circumstances, Russell Westbrook would most likely declare after this season ended. That meant Stephen's offensive role and statistical production were bound to rise next year; the real question was whether the team's record could keep pace.
Stephen stared blankly at Yang Shuai, at a loss for words.
If anyone else had said that, he would have brushed it off as cheap flattery. But coming from Yang Shuai, he couldn't help taking it seriously.
Just then, someone sat down on the sofa across from them.
Both of them turned their heads, and when they saw who it was, they froze.
The newcomer was none other than "The Logo" himself, Jerry West!
Back then, *The Associated Press* had described Yang Shuai as "someone who might become the NAA's Jerry West in the future," and now the man himself was sitting right in front of them.
Snapping out of his daze, Yang Shuai couldn't help marveling at the breadth of Dell Curry's connections—first Riley, now West.
Holding a cigar between his fingers, West smiled at Stephen. "Stephen, after tonight, anyone who thought you couldn't make it is going to have to relearn how to watch basketball."
"Thank you, Mr. West. Your words mean a great deal to me." West's compliment wasn't overly elaborate, but it left Stephen beaming, his face red with excitement.
In American basketball, "The Logo" was a living legend of the NBA pantheon.
"This is Yang Shuai—his English name is Hanson. He's our school's national scouting director," Stephen said, remembering to introduce Yang Shuai even in his excitement.
A flash of surprise crossed West's eyes before he turned his gaze onto Yang Shuai. "You're the one who brought Stephen, Russell Westbrook, and Serge Ibaka to Wake Forest?"
Yang Shuai hadn't expected West to know who he was, let alone in such detail. Surprised as he was, he nodded calmly.
"Care to share your recruitment process with me?" West asked. He placed his cigar on the ashtray on the table, leaned forward, and laced his fingers together in an attentive posture.
Stephen was quick to react. Making an excuse, he stood up and walked away, giving the two of them plenty of space to talk.
Yang Shuai recognized that this was an opportunity.
Leaving out unnecessary details and framing his actions around plausible scouting motives, he summarized the recruitment process as concisely as possible.
West, however, looked slightly disappointed after listening. He had assumed Yang Shuai had developed some unique methodology, but it seemed to boil down mostly to an eye for talent. Yet when it came to intuition, not even West himself could guarantee he would never make a mistake.
He picked up his cigar again, took a puff, blew out a smoke ring, and asked, "What are your thoughts on this year's draft?"
"If Greg Oden declares this year, whoever lands the number one pick will take him first overall. But..." Yang Shuai shifted his tone. "I believe Kevin Durant is the rookie who can truly alter a franchise's destiny."
"Oh?" Yang Shuai's response caught West off guard. Setting his cigar down once more, he said, "Elaborate."
"Oden is remarkably gifted, but he has two issues—one non-fatal, and one fatal. The non-fatal issue is his skill set: he relies too heavily on his physical dominance, which might be refined after entering the NBA. But the fatal issue is his health. He suffered a ligament injury back in his sophomore year of high school, underwent wrist surgery just last June, and his legs are different lengths. That will leave his knees extremely vulnerable to devastating injuries." Having already set his sights on entering the NBA, Yang Shuai had long since prepared his thoughts on the matter.
West stared at Yang Shuai in astonishment. Even he hadn't known about the disparity in Oden's leg length. This young man's scouting insight was exceptionally sharp.
"Mr. West, your cigar," Yang Shuai reminded him gently, pulling West back to reality.
Taking another draw from his cigar, West asked, "And what about Kevin Durant?"
"Mr. West, you worked alongside Magic Johnson for years. You must know better than anyone what made him so unique, right?" Instead of answering directly, Yang Shuai posed a question back to West.
West looked at him with a grin, finding Yang Shuai far more interesting than he had anticipated. "Earvin had the size of a big man, but the skill set of a point guard."
Yang Shuai nodded. "Kevin Durant has the size of a big man, but the skill set of a swingman. Just like Magic, he creates a natural positional mismatch whenever he steps onto the floor.
"What's more, he's healthy. All those crossovers haven't compromised his knees," Yang Shuai added.
West burst into laughter.
The more he looked at Yang Shuai, the more he liked him. Finally, he pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it over. "If you ever need anything, give me a call."
With that, West stood up and took his leave. Yang Shuai rose to see him off.
Once West had disappeared into the crowd, Yang Shuai weighed the card in his hand, carefully slipped it into his inner jacket pocket, and patted it to make sure it wouldn't fall out.
That wasn't just a business card; it was a stepping stone into the NBA.
Right then, Yang Shuai saw Dell Curry walking toward him.
He stepped forward with a smile to express his gratitude. "Thank you for arranging all this for me."
While he knew Dell would do him some favors for Stephen's sake, he hadn't imagined Dell would introduce someone of Jerry West's caliber. That was an enormous favor.
Dell, however, looked completely bewildered. "I haven't even taken you to meet the person I arranged for you yet."
Now it was Yang Shuai's turn to be confused. He took out West's business card and briefly recounted what had just taken place.
"I haven't even had the chance to say hello to him yet," Dell Curry said with a wry shake of his head.
Yang Shuai froze. So the whole thing had been a misunderstanding?
Thinking back, it made sense. When Stephen introduced him earlier, West had looked visibly surprised.
Yang Shuai quickly put the matter aside, however, as he caught the key phrase in Dell's words. "You said you were taking me to meet someone?"
Dell Curry nodded, then led Yang Shuai toward the staircase.
Chapter 31