In the final second of the game, he hit a game-winner one-handed from out of bounds behind the backboard.
This was an unprecedented moment in NBA history.
Every spectator in the arena leaped to their feet in excitement.
They cheered and hugged one another.
Then they all raised their hands high and repeatedly bowed to Wang Yi in worship.
The courtside DJ, Chantelle, was even more excited. In a voice like a pilgrim's, she shouted:
"Long live our Emperor, long live, long live!"
Earlier, she had asked a Chinese friend what special slogan to shout when Wang Yi made a clutch shot.
Her friend had taught her this one.
The spectators didn't know what the words meant, but they knew it had to be one hell of a slogan.
And Chantelle was clearly whipping up the crowd, so they joined in and shouted along.
"Long live our Emperor, long live, long live!"
"Long live our Emperor, long live, long live!"
"Long live our Emperor, long live, long live!"
Their pronunciation was pretty clumsy, pure parrot-fashion imitation.
No technique, no feeling.
But nearly twenty thousand people shouting the slogan at once created an imposing spectacle and a tremendous roar.
It was like thunder rolling through the heavens, like the cry of an ancient dragon.
At courtside, Derrick Rose, the Rose of Chicago, rushed onto the court. After embracing Wang Yi tightly, he shaped his hands into a crown.
Then he firmly set it on Wang Yi's head.
In front of countless screens across China, countless viewers watched Rose crown Wang Yi, and they were just as overwhelmed with excitement.
When they heard the crowd's chant, they were initially confused. The spectators' pronunciation was so awkward that they couldn't make out what they were saying.
But judging by the rhythm of