The moment Jennifer kissed him, Snoopy's heart rate skyrocketed, and blood surged violently through his veins.
When she boldly pressed her tongue against his teeth, he felt his entire body ignite.
Both physically and mentally, it was as if a new world had been flung open before him.
"Th…this is my first kiss!"
Snoopy decided to cherish this milestone, savoring his first real experience of love.
But just as he tried to regain some control, Jennifer quickly pulled back, raised her hands in a victorious declaration, and grabbed Snoopy's hand, leading him out of the venue.
The entire room erupted—screams and cheers filled the air.
The girls mourned missing out on such a prime guy.
The men envied him—so beautiful a blonde, kissing him and taking the initiative: men chasing women is common, but women chasing men, this boldness was unprecedented.
"Go, Snoopy!!"
Brian Wright and his teammates were shouting from across the room, thrilled by the spectacle. He couldn't wait to spread the story in the Bruins' locker room.
Meanwhile, Kevin Ding quickly saved the Mexican girl's number, abandoning his own date plans. He would return to the office immediately, compile his report, and deliver everything to the editor-in-chief.
His instinct told him that Snoopy would be the most unique player in the NCAA.
He was a blend of intellect and artistry, but on the court, he played as a tough, iron-willed center, a role that seemed at odds with his cerebral and artistic aura.
…
Snoopy ran alongside Jennifer, his heart pounding, his upper body trembling.
"Did you sing that song just for me?" Jennifer asked, gazing into his eyes.
Snoopy replied, "I was passing through Beverly Hills, thinking of you, and the melody just came to me."
He spoke sincerely.
Jennifer's heart melted. Her cheeks flushed—the most romantic words she had ever heard.
She wrapped her arms around Snoopy's waist, pressing her head against his chest.
The pounding of their hearts created a dreamlike sensation.
Suddenly she lifted her head. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
A crucial question.
"No."
Jennifer's eyes lit up. She whispered, "Then now you do."
Snoopy wrapped his arms around her.
Clumsy though his embrace was, he was certain of one thing: he liked Jennifer. That was enough.
Why overthink a first love?
Jennifer looked at him with tender eyes.
Snoopy seized the moment and kissed her.
On the streets of Los Angeles, they declared their love with pure emotion and awkward, heartfelt skill.
…
On Wednesday morning, Edward sent his compiled player reports to the Lakers, Rockets, Pistons, Spurs, and Mavericks.
The players? Russell Westbrook, Taj Gibson, DeRozan, Holiday—and Snoopy.
He included his assessments and video highlights.
Grades: Westbrook A+, DeRozan and Holiday A, Gibson B+, Snoopy… X—an unknown variable.
The Pistons replied quickly, asking Edward to continue monitoring Gibson and DeRozan. They wanted a wing player.
The Lakers and Rockets focused on Westbrook and Holiday.
The Mavericks remained silent.
The Spurs only replied around 9 p.m.: "All these players are good, unlikely to fall to the late first round. With only a second-round pick, focus on Snoopy in UCLA's next game. Gregg Popovich is researching using shorter, space-oriented centers in the Spurs system."
The Spurs' scouting team was legendary in the second round. If they were this interested in Snoopy, he must have rare qualities worth attention.
Edward whispered to himself.
Meanwhile, Kevin Ding confidently walked into Editor Robert's office with his freshly finished article and DV footage.
Robert read the eloquent article, then watched the footage. He smiled, raised his eyebrows, gasped at times.
Finally, he set aside all expressions and said sternly:
"As you said, Snoopy is a media goldmine. He's 1.95 meters, playing center, yet he has top-tier strength and near-superhuman speed. His coordination is infantile—but he's a top student at Anderson College, with charm and musical talent. He easily makes girls go wild at parties… He has every element a journalist could want."
"However, he's not yet an excellent basketball player. We are a serious sports paper, not a tabloid."
"So, my opinion is permanently void…"
Before he could finish, knock knock knock!
The door opened, and the editor-in-chief, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, entered:
"We need to talk about this weekend's sports special. I'm dissatisfied with your reporting approach. We must add story and interest. Readers don't just want cold data—they want living, breathing sports youth. Understand?"
Kevin Ding knew his chance had arrived.
Before joining the Orange County Chronicle, he had studied the chief editor's background. An Anderson College alumnus and UCLA alum—this was the perfect opportunity to turn the tables.