NBA: Basketball Legend.

Chapter 56: Chapter 56: Big Victory! Will You Join the Beijing Olympics?

Chapter 56: Big Victory! Will You Join the Beijing Olympics?

”Yo... does this guy always play like that?”

On the bench, every player on the Chinese men’s basketball team had their jaws practically on the floor.

”Too damn brutal,” Sun Dasheng muttered, scratching the back of his head. ”Honestly? I don’t even wanna go up against him.”

He said it like a joke, but everyone knew he meant it.

Liu Xiaoyu, Chen Jianghua, Wang Zhongguang, and the rest of the backup guards stayed silent. Anyone with eyes could see that Chen Yan’s skill level was on a whole different tier compared to them.

”What do you think of him?” Assistant coach Li Nan leaned toward Du Feng.

Du Feng didn’t hesitate. ”Super high level,” he said, flashing a thumbs-up.

The game rolled on. Jonas, head coach of the Chinese men’s team, kept shouting instructions from the sideline. To him, the final score wasn’t the biggest concern—he wanted to see toughness, execution, and discipline from his squad.

In previous tune-up games, China had looked soft. Jonas knew that if they didn’t build a habit of playing with physicality now, they couldn’t expect to flip a switch come Olympic time.

Tonight, though? There was a clear difference. The Chinese team came out sharper, more locked-in. They followed the game plan, executed sets, and played with intent.

Liu Wei was penetrating and dishing. Zhu Fangyu and Wang Shipeng were splashing from deep. Yi Jianlian dominated the paint. Wang Zhizhi stretched the floor with his mid-range and long-range game.

They kept it close.

On the flip side, the Suns had a clear strategy: run everything through Chen Yan.

Whether it was ISO plays, fast-break buckets off turnovers, catch-and-shoot actions, or pick-and-roll sets designed to free him up—everything revolved around him.

And his teammates? They were thrilled to feed him.

Because every time they passed to Chen Yan, it turned into a highlight... or an assist.

In the Summer League, stats are everything—players are fighting for contracts. Scoring and assists are their currency. So smart guys like point guard Banks started feeding Chen Yan early and often. By halftime, Banks had 7 assists—6 of them straight to Chen Yan.

At the break, the Suns led 45–37.

China’s national team—the so-called ”Golden Generation”—was stronger than expected. Even without Yao Ming, their core of Liu Wei, Yi Jianlian, Wang Zhizhi, and the wing shooters gave them solid balance.

Chen Yan recalled their Olympic performance from his previous life: beating Germany, giving Spain hell, and even going toe-to-toe with Team USA in the first half.

But the flaw was always the same—conditioning.

In the Olympics, the Americans ramped up the pressure in the second half and ran China off the floor. Their legs gave out, and everything crumbled.

Chen Yan decided to simulate that same experience here—to help the Chinese team get a taste of that pressure now rather than later.

”Full-court press,” Chen Yan told his teammates during the break. ”Turn up the heat. Trap everything. Make ’em work for every dribble.”

No hesitation.

These Summer League guys didn’t have elite skill sets, but one thing they did have was motor. They were dogs on defense—relentless, scrappy, and down to hound opponents the full 94 feet.

Third quarter started, and CCTV commentator Sun Zhenping sounded hopeful.

”China’s only down 8 at the half. This could be the first win of the summer league tour!”

But two and a half minutes in... they hadn’t scored a single point.

What no one expected was that the Suns would come out pressing full-court from the jump. Straight-up chaos.

It wasn’t quite the same suffocating level as the 2008 Team USA, but the sudden spike in intensity caught China off guard. They couldn’t handle the pressure—turnovers piled up.

”Another steal by Chen Yan!” Yu Jia shouted. ”China’s offense is falling apart under the pressure!”

”Yeah, when you’re trapped before you even cross half court, every pass becomes a gamble,” his co-commentator added. ”They’ve gotta figure out how to handle this full-court blitz.”

As the words left his mouth, Chen Yan picked off another pass and sprinted downcourt all alone.

Fans rose to their feet, expecting a thunderous dunk.

Instead, Chen Yan casually slowed down... and dropped in a basic layup.

The crowd groaned and laughed, spreading their arms like, ”Come on, man!”

Chen Yan grinned. He liked messing with the crowd sometimes—it kept things fun.

But Jonas wasn’t smiling. He called a timeout immediately.

If he didn’t change something quick, this game was going to snowball into a blowout.

Out of the timeout, Jonas adjusted. He sent in Chen Jianghua and Sun Yue as a dual point guard combo, hoping the speed and handles of the two young guards could break the press and spark the offense.

Chen Jianghua was always a unique kind of player—lightning quick, aggressive with the ball, and fearless when attacking the rim. But his flaws were just as glaring. He often played too wild, lacked strength and balance, and couldn’t handle physical contact. As a result, his turnover rate was consistently high.

Compared to Liu Wei, Chen was definitely more instinctive and creative. But when it came to consistency and poise, he lagged far behind. His desire to stand out—maybe even showboat—was too strong. That’s why he worked better as a spark plug off the bench rather than a core piece of the rotation.

True to form, Chen came off the bench full of energy. He blew by two defenders and finished a slick reverse layup, electrifying the crowd. But just as quickly, he turned the ball over on back-to-back possessions.

That, in a nutshell, was the Chen Jianghua experience: flashes of brilliance drowned out by his recklessness. Exciting, sure. But not reliable.

On the other side, Sun Dasheng entered the game with a different mindset. He wasn’t there to show off—he wanted to clamp down. He locked in on Chen Yan, who was already cooking, and made it his personal mission to shut him down.

Sun believed in his ability to get a block. Every time Chen Yan attacked, Sun was either right on his hip or lurking nearby, waiting to time a swat. The problem? Chen Yan saw through it immediately. Sun’s intentions were written all over his face.

Instead of falling into his trap, Chen baited him—then punished him. Twice in a row, Chen used Sun’s aggressiveness against him, drawing contact and converting an and-one each time. That swagger, that cold-blooded finish—it was enough to break Sun’s composure.

Frustrated, Sun switched tactics.

Fine, he thought. If I can’t block him, I’ll just take the foul.

Three possessions later, the Suns forced a turnover and sparked a fast break. Chen Yan led the charge, sprinting past half court like a missile. Banks hit him with a perfect long pass, then casually slowed down—he knew what was coming and wanted front-row seats for the highlight.

Chen Yan caught the ball in stride and hit the gas.

Full throttle.

Sun Dasheng read the play and sprinted to the paint, planting his feet and bracing for impact. Arms crossed, eyes squeezed shut—he was praying for a charge call.

But the only thing he heard was the rim crying out in pain.

”BOOM!!”

The arena exploded.

”WHOA! What did we just see?!”

”Insane footwork!”

”An unreal finish!”

”I’m officially a Chen Yan fan after that!”

Sun Dasheng stood frozen, confused. He glanced up at the jumbotron and watched the slow-mo replay in disbelief. At the exact moment their bodies made contact, Chen pulled off a high-difficulty crossover paired with a ghost-like Eurostep—blurring right past him—then detonated a one-handed jam that shook the entire rim.

Sun could only shake his head.

Chen’s body control at that speed? Unstoppable. And he still had the bounce to finish over the top?

There was no guarding that.

One by one, the Chinese team’s backcourt defenders got cooked. Jonas even tried throwing bigger wings at Chen Yan—Zhu Fangyu, Coach Du Feng, Zhou Peng, Ding Jinhui—but none of them could stay in front of him. They just weren’t quick enough.

Chen didn’t even need fancy moves—he was blowing by them in one step.

Midway through the third quarter, Jonas had seen enough. He deployed a hard double-team to trap Chen at the point of attack. Part of it was strategy, part of it was a test—could Chen handle elite pressure?

He could. And then some.

At this point, Chen Yan was deep in his bag, totally in rhythm. Double-teams didn’t phase him—they just opened more lanes. He kept slicing through the defense with surgical precision, mixing in midrange pull-ups and fearless drives, racking up bucket after bucket.

By the end of the third quarter, even though Yi Jianlian had a powerful dunk off a hesitation move and Wang Zhizhi drilled a deep step-back three, it barely made a dent.

The team’s rhythm was off. Offensively, they couldn’t keep pace. Defensively, they had no answer. The lead ballooned to 24 points by the time the quarter ended.

The game was over in all but name.

Chen Yan sat the entire fourth quarter. He wasn’t trying to disrespect the Chinese squad—it was just smart. No point in embarrassing his future national teammates. The Suns cruised to an 85–67 win, and Chen Yan put up 48 points in just three quarters.

The walking bucket was back.

Sure, the Chinese men’s basketball team took another L, but fans back home? They weren’t too bummed.

”Who says we lost?” one fan posted. ”If Chen Yan’s 48 were added to our side, we’d win by 30. So technically, we beat the Suns, right?”

After the game, a CCTV Sports reporter caught up with Chen Yan for a quick postgame interview.

Reporter: ”Chen Yan, what’s your assessment of this Chinese national team’s current strength?”

Chen: ”They’re solid. The chemistry is there, the system is sound, and they execute well. But we’re not complete yet. Once Yao returns, we’ll take another step forward—especially on both ends.”

Reporter: ”You didn’t play a minute in the fourth. Was that your call or the coach’s?”

Chen: ”A little of both. Summer League is just a tune-up for me. No need to push too hard in these games.”

Reporter: ”Chinese fans are rallying hard for you to join the national squad. Will we see you in the 2008 Beijing Olympics?”

Chen: smiles ”It would be an absolute honor. Ever since I was a kid, I dreamed of repping the national team—especially on a stage like the Beijing Olympics. But it’s not just up to me. I’ve got to get that call-up first.”

Reporter: ”Thanks for the interview, Chen. Hope we see you in that red and white jersey soon.”

Chen: ”Appreciate it. Thank you!”

Check my Pâtreon for Advanced Chapters

Pâtreon .com/Fanficlord03

Change (â) to (a)

https://discord