Chapter 191: Winning the Rookie Game MVP Trophy!
Swish!
The free throw dropped cleanly, and the lead ballooned to fifteen points.
On the sideline, the Trail Blazers' duo Brandon Roy and LaMarcus Aldridge exchanged glances at the scoreboard, their faces showing a mix of disbelief and exhaustion. They were giving it everything they had, yet the gap just kept growing.
Chen Yan's explosion wasn't just a scoring outburst — it was psychological warfare. His relentless rhythm crushed the sophomore team's defensive schemes and drained their confidence possession by possession.
Moments later, he hit his ninth and tenth three-pointers in rapid succession.
The arena went wild. Each deep shot was like fireworks — sharp, loud, impossible to ignore. The crowd rose with every release, expecting magic and getting it every single time.
But Chen wasn't just scoring; he was facilitating. A behind-the-back dime here, a no-look pass there. Even his teammates caught the heat, draining their own shots as if his energy had spread through them like wildfire.
With 7:49 left in the second half, the scoreboard read 115–83.
A thirty-point lead. Game over in all but name.
Even the commentators had shifted from analysis to laughter.
"The sophomores are basically done," the play-by-play announcer said, chuckling. "They've got no spark left."
Yao Ming, sitting beside him on commentary, quipped, "Unless someone wants to pull a '35 points in 13 seconds,' this one's cooked."
The audience burst into laughter.
When Yao first joined the NBA, he often joked about being so unskilled he might switch careers — and commentary was his backup plan. Tonight, he proved he could make that switch anytime.
Online, fans were already joking: Chen's performing with his hands; Yao's performing with his mouth.
"Come on, Yao," the commentator teased. "Speaking of that 35-second miracle, your teammate back then, McGrady, isn't even an All-Star this year. Feeling lonely?"
Yao smiled. "Not at all. With Chen Yan and Yi Jianlian representing, it's plenty lively."
"Speaking of which," the commentator continued, "the All-Star Game's the day after tomorrow. Any predictions for Chen Yan's debut?"
Yao leaned back, thinking for a moment. "Honestly, I can't wait to see it. His personality, his creativity — it's tailor-made for that kind of stage. I just hope he enjoys himself."
Then, with a self-deprecating grin, he added, "I'll just be watching. I'm too slow for that kind of party."
---
On the court, the pace had loosened. The Rising Stars Challenge rarely saw garbage time — but with the score this lopsided, both teams relaxed, playing purely for fun again.
Bang!
Rudy Gay caught a lob and windmilled it home, the crowd roaring in delight.
His athleticism was off the charts — long, explosive, smooth. But like many young players, his shot selection had always been his weakness. He could soar, but he couldn't always score.
The freshmen inbounded quickly.
Chen Yan took the pass, burst into open space, and hit full speed — the familiar sight of those orange-and-white AeroWing sneakers blurring as he sprinted downcourt.
Roy and Gay looked at each other and stepped aside.
There was no need to challenge it. They'd already learned that lesson.
BOOM!
Chen exploded from just inside the paint and threw down a monster dunk — right over Azubuike, his Suns teammate.
The building shook.
Up in the stands, Stoudemire leapt to his feet, waving his hat in the air like a rodeo cowboy.
"Let's go, Chen! That's how you do it!" he shouted, laughing uncontrollably.
Next to him, Nash smiled quietly, holding his twin daughters in his lap. Even if he wanted to jump up, his hands were full. But his eyes showed the same pride — the kind a mentor feels when watching a student surpass him.
On the court, Azubuike just stood there, expression flat, eyes slightly glazed. He'd been dunked on — and by his own teammate, no less.
Durant, meanwhile, looked confused. "You guys are… celebrating getting dunked on?"
Chen clapped him on the back. "It's called team spirit, bro!"
A minute later, the freshmen were on another break. Chen zipped past half court, flicking an alley-oop high into the air.
Durant sprinted in, caught it one-handed, and hammered it down right on Rondo's head.
"ROOOAAR!" Durant bellowed, flexing toward the crowd.
Chen laughed, walking up behind him and slapping him on the backside. "KD! You can't even spare your teammates now?"
Durant grinned. "I learned from you!"
"So… how's it feel?"
"Feels good! Let's do it again!"
Rondo and Azubuike exchanged looks of quiet despair. It was now clear what they were — background props for a highlight reel.
---
When the final buzzer echoed through the Smoothie King Center, the scoreboard read 143–112.
A blowout.
The freshmen hadn't just broken the five-year losing streak — they'd demolished it.
Chen Yan's stat line was absurd:
20-of-27 from the field.
11-of-15 from three.
4-for-4 from the line.
55 points, 5 assists, 5 rebounds, 3 steals.
New records for both single-game scoring and three-pointers in Rising Stars history.
The MVP selection was a formality.
As the crowd roared, Chen raised the Rookie Game MVP trophy, flashing that trademark grin as confetti rained from above.
LeBron James, interviewed courtside, summed it up best.
"Man," LeBron said, shaking his head. "Chen's performance tonight was as wild as those AeroWing shoes he wore. That boy's got flair."
Back in the stands, Stoudemire laughed as reporters crowded around him. "Am I surprised? Not at all," he said, shrugging. "That's just another night for him."
Nash smiled when the cameras turned to him. "My daughters are his biggest fans," he said, gesturing to the twins in his arms. "You should be interviewing them instead of me."
The two little girls giggled as the camera zoomed in.
Everyone, players, fans, and commentators alike burst out laughing.
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