As time went by, Wang Yi's days gradually settled into a quiet routine.
Besides spending time with his family every day, he had two kittens and a puppy at home.
They weren't any rare breeds.
Just ordinary cats and dogs.
They'd been given to him by villagers who had no way to deal with their pets' litters and were giving the kittens and puppies away.
Every day, Wang Yi played with the cats, walked the dog, and pushed his children around to look at things.
Life was indescribably pleasant.
At first, there were still people online who missed Wang Yi.
But as time went by, fewer and fewer people talked about missing him.
In this day and age, no star was eternal.
The world kept turning without anyone.
Wang Yi's life grew even more peaceful.
Many people feared a quiet life, but a quiet life was what life was.
In stark contrast to his peaceful life was the dismal state of the NBA in the 2027–2028 season.
If the NBA's previous season had been merely bleak, and people had still held on to a sliver of hope, this season had completely crushed that hope.
The ripple effects of Wang Yi's retirement continued to spread.
This season, NBA viewership was less than half of what it had been before he retired.
NBA merchandise had become almost impossible to sell.
Jersey sales for every star player had dropped sharply.
For one thing, the NBA was nowhere near as popular as before. For another, since Wang Yi retired, the Dow Jones had fallen for more than ten consecutive months.
The resulting ripple effects were gradually becoming apparent.
The U.S. unemployment rate was now 19% higher than it had been two years earlier, and the crime rate had risen by 17.2%.
It seemed that