[TL: Today we reached 100 plus Power Stones, here's my bonus chapter for you all]
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Chapter 205: Heavy Rain of Three-Pointers Stopped the Rockets!
Chen Yan arrived in Houston with the team on the evening of February 26. As the host, Yao Ming naturally didn't forget to take care of his younger brother. The moment Chen Yan checked into the hotel, Yao pulled up outside in his BMW 7 Series to pick him up.
Ten minutes later, Chen was sitting in the passenger seat, struggling to keep a straight face. The 7 Series looked like a toy car under Yao Ming's massive frame—his knees nearly hit the dashboard, and his giant hands gripped the steering wheel like it was a CD.
Seeing Chen's smirk, Yao glanced sideways. "Chen, what's so funny?"
"Nothing," Chen said, holding back a laugh. "I just thought of something happy."
Yao chuckled. "Share it, maybe I'll laugh too."
Chen grinned. "Brother Yao, you've been having a good time lately. Twelve straight wins? You're unstoppable."
Yao sighed. "Don't remind me. The Western Conference is insane this year. Twelve wins and we've only climbed two spots in the standings. Can you believe that?"
Chen burst out laughing. He knew Yao wasn't exaggerating. The West was a warzone. Any team that managed to survive this conference and win the championship would go down as one of the toughest squads of the decade.
Yao's BMW rolled to a stop in front of his house. This time, instead of dining out, he invited Chen over for a home-cooked meal. "A real family dinner," Yao said. "That's the highest level of hospitality."
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February 27 – Toyota Center
The Rockets' home court was packed to capacity. During warm-ups, countless fans waved banners with Chen Yan's face, chanting his name. For them, there was no "home" or "away." When two Chinese stars met on an NBA court, everyone won.
Before tipoff, Chen and Yao greeted each other casually—they had already caught up the night before. Chen spent most of warm-ups chatting with Tracy McGrady. Thanks to Yao, the two had played online games together before, so there was a friendly bond between them.
While they talked, Rockets GM Daryl Morey approached with a big smile. Since midseason, he had been obsessed with the idea of pairing Chen Yan with Yao Ming—a "Chinese twin-tower duo," as he called it. Earlier in January, he even offered a trade package to the Suns, which was rejected before Phoenix management bothered to read it.
Chen didn't mean to offend anyone, but when Morey tried to greet him, he simply nodded and turned back toward the warm-up court, leaving the GM hanging awkwardly. In Chen's mind, there were some conversations that just weren't worth having.
The crowd roared as the game's broadcast began.
"Welcome to Houston, everyone!" said Kevin Harlan from courtside. "Tonight we've got a must-watch matchup—the Houston Rockets on a twelve-game winning streak hosting the Western Conference-leading Phoenix Suns!"
Beside him, Reggie Miller added, "This one's gonna be electric. Two Chinese superstars head-to-head, Chen Yan and Yao Ming—both playing some of the best basketball of their careers."
The starting lineups appeared on screen:
Rockets — Alston, McGrady, Battier, Scola, and Yao Ming.
Suns — Nash, Chen Yan, Raja Bell, Diaw, and Stoudemire.
"This is going to be fast-paced basketball," Miller said. "Phoenix loves to run, and Houston's been grinding teams down with defense. Something's gotta give."
At center court, Yao Ming squared up against Stoudemire for the tip. Yao's jump-ball percentage wasn't great, but he looked determined. The whistle blew—Stoudemire leapt like a spring and tipped it cleanly to Nash.
The Suns drew first possession.
Nash crossed half court, handed it off to Chen Yan, and drifted toward the wing. Chen held the ball at a forty-five-degree angle, scanning the floor. His wingspan and smooth ball control made the moment look effortless—poised, elegant, almost graceful.
The Suns cleared out, leaving Chen isolated against Battier. The veteran defender crouched low, eyes sharp, keeping a disciplined distance. He wouldn't fall for fakes easily—but Chen wasn't your average guard.
After a quick between-the-legs crossover, Chen exploded left. Battier stuck to him for half a step, then lost ground as Chen's first step turned into a blur. McGrady rotated to help, but before he could close the gap—
Behind-the-back pass!
Chen snapped the ball behind his back, threading it perfectly to Raja Bell in the corner.
"Wow, what a feed!" Harlan shouted.
Bell caught it cleanly, rose, and fired—
"Swish!"
The Suns drew first blood.
"That's a beautiful play," Miller said. "Chen drew the double, made the right read, and gave Bell a perfect rhythm shot."
The Rockets tried to respond quickly. Alston brought it up and lobbed inside to Yao, but the pass floated too high. Stoudemire read it, jumped early, and stole it clean.
Phoenix wasted no time. Nash pushed the tempo, sprinting upcourt with Bell and Chen on the wings.
"Here come the Suns!" Harlan exclaimed.
Chen drifted right, caught the bounce pass, and—without breaking stride—pulled up from deep in transition.
"Pull-up three!"
"Bang!"
The Toyota Center erupted in mixed gasps and applause. The shot was pure silk.
"That's Chen Yan for you," Miller said, laughing. "He makes that look routine, but that's a fast-break three in motion—most players wouldn't even dare attempt it."
Houston slowed it down next possession. Alston hesitated to feed Yao again after the turnover. The ball swung to Battier in the corner—his favorite spot—but the shot rimmed out. Diaw grabbed the rebound one-handed and immediately looked upcourt.
"Push it!" Coach D'Antoni yelled from the sideline.
The Suns raced ahead again. Nash led the charge, Chen on his right, Bell on his left. Yao Ming barely made it to half court before Nash fired a bounce pass ahead to Chen.
This time, both McGrady and Battier collapsed on him—expecting another pull-up three.
Instead, Chen kicked it back to the top of the arc. Nash caught, set, fired—
"Got it! Steve Nash from downtown!"
The Suns bench jumped to its feet.
"Phoenix is raining threes like it's monsoon season!" Harlan shouted over the crowd noise.
Reggie Miller laughed. "It's beautiful basketball, man. You can't guard that when the ball moves like this."
9–0.
Rockets coach Rick Adelman had seen enough. He stormed out to midcourt and signaled for a timeout.
The Suns jogged back to their bench, grinning and high-fiving.
"What a start for Phoenix!" Harlan said. "A barrage of three-pointers, incredible pace, and picture-perfect ball movement."
Miller nodded. "That's the D'Antoni system at its finest—run, gun, and share the ball. The Rockets haven't even gotten a rhythm yet."
As the camera panned over the Rockets bench, Yao Ming sat quietly, towel over his shoulders, shaking his head. He knew this was going to be a long night.
The game had just begun, but the Suns had already unleashed a heavy rain of three-pointers—and the Rockets had no umbrella.
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