NBA: Basketball Legend.

Chapter 192: Chapter 192: Being Slapped in the Face? Practicing Singing All Night!

Chapter 192: Being Slapped in the Face? Practicing Singing All Night!

”Ding! Win the Rookie Challenge! +3 Honor Points!”

”Ding! Break the Rookie Challenge scoring and three-pointer records! +4 Honor Points!”

”Ding! Win the Rookie Challenge MVP! +4 Honor Points!”

As Chen Yan held up the MVP trophy, the familiar system notifications echoed in his mind.

He blinked in surprise. Only four points for MVP?

Was the Rookie Challenge really considered that casual?

Still, he couldn’t complain. He’d coasted through most of the first half and only turned it up late in the game. The fact that he’d walked away with the trophy — and a few extra Honor Points — was already a win.

At the podium, Chen Yan gave his brief acceptance speech with his trademark composure.

”This is a team victory. Everyone played selflessly and shared the ball. We performed like a mature team tonight. This MVP trophy belongs not just to me, but to all the first-year players and our coaching staff.”

After the ceremony, Chen walked over and gave Durant a warm hug. No one knew when they’d share the same jersey again, and both of them understood that this moment — this win — meant something special.

Moments later, he was swarmed by reporters.

”Chen,” one reporter called out, ”the freshman team just snapped a five-year losing streak in this event. What’s your biggest feeling right now?”

Chen leaned into the mic, completely deadpan. ”Finally, I’m off work.”

The room burst into laughter.

That was Chen Yan — relaxed, witty, and impossible not to like.

Another reporter jumped in. ”What do you think about Yi Jianlian’s performance tonight?”

Yi had played eleven minutes, scoring six points on 3-for-8 shooting, with one highlight dunk.

Chen smiled. ”Yi’s a hands-on guy. Exhibition games like this are about rhythm and flow — it just takes a different mindset. I’m sure he’ll adjust and show everyone what he can really do next time.”

The next question came quickly. ”You hit eleven threes, scored fifty-five points, won MVP, and broke multiple records. Before the game, you said you were just here for fun. Do you still stand by that?”

Chen smirked. He knew exactly what they were doing — calling back his earlier words. It was a playful slap in the face, but one he didn’t mind taking.

”If every ’just for fun’ game went like this,” he said, ”I hope I get slapped like that more often.”

The crowd laughed again.

Then he shrugged and added with mock seriousness, ”Basketball’s like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.”

The Forrest Gump reference drew more chuckles from the press.

”Chen,” another reporter asked, ”what’s next after this? What’s your plan when you get back to the hotel?”

”Practice singing, of course!” he replied without hesitation.

The answer caught everyone off guard.

But it was true — outside of basketball, Chen Yan had another major task for All-Star Weekend: his live performance. In less than forty-eight hours, he’d be taking the stage in front of thousands of fans and millions watching worldwide. The last thing he wanted was to hit the wrong note and become a meme.

”Speaking of rhythm,” another reporter continued, ”you made eleven threes tonight. Any confidence for the Three-Point Contest tomorrow?”

Chen shook his head. ”The contest and the game are two completely different beasts. It’s one thing to shoot off the dribble or off a screen; it’s another to fire from a rack under time pressure. Guys like Kapono, Peja, and Dirk — they’ve all won this before. They’re built for this. It’s gonna be tough.”

It wasn’t modesty — it was realism. Chen’s shooting relied heavily on rhythm, movement, and game feel. In a structured contest, stationary shooters had the upper hand.

Even legends struggled with that. Curry joined seven times and only won twice, he thought. I’m not beating that with luck.

His goal tomorrow was simple — don’t embarrass myself.

Specifically, don’t beat Jordan’s record.

In 1990, a nervous Michael Jordan had famously scored just five points in the Three-Point Contest — the lowest ever. Chen Yan wasn’t about to join him in that historical infamy.

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The next day, he stepped onto the court for the contest, smiling easily under the bright lights.

After the opening rounds, Chen, Nowitzki, and Kapono advanced to the finals.

Chen’s performance was solid but unspectacular — 18 points. A few smooth swishes, a few rim-outs.

Nowitzki struggled more, finishing with only 14.

Then came Jason Kapono — last year’s champion. In rhythm from the start, he barely touched the rim all round, ending with 25 points to reclaim his crown.

The crowd roared as Chen and Dirk walked over to congratulate him. Kapono, nearly in tears, hugged them both.

”You earned it, bro,” Chen said sincerely, giving him a high five.

The day rolled on with the Skills Challenge, where Deron Williams edged Chris Paul with a blazing 25.5-second run — poetic, considering Paul was playing on his home floor.

Online fans had a field day: ”Deron even beats CP3 in his sleep.”

Then came the main event of the night — the Slam Dunk Contest.

Dwight Howard, dressed in his iconic Superman cape, took flight, delivering a gravity-defying dunk that had the entire arena erupting. The judges gave him perfect scores, and the title was his.

Meanwhile, Gerald Green wowed with his candle-blowing dunk — stylish, clever, and full of flair — but it wasn’t enough. Once Howard landed in full Superman glory, the crowd had already chosen their hero.

Chen Yan just smiled from the sidelines.

He wasn’t surprised. He’d seen all of this before — literally.

This was history repeating itself, he thought. The era of brute force gave way to creativity long ago.

After the festivities, Chen and Taylor headed back to their hotel. The night outside New Orleans was alive with jazz and laughter, but Chen had no plans to rest.

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