That afternoon, after Wang Yi had seen Coach Pan off, he could have finally gotten some rest.
But he didn't rest right away. There was still one thing he had to do.
Before he could get to it, though, he received a phone call.
Xiao Hua was on the other end.
It was around four in the morning in the United States.
The fact that Xiao Hua was calling Wang Yi at this hour showed just how important this was.
Of course, there was another possibility: Xiao Hua had chosen this time so he wouldn't disturb Wang Yi in the evening.
Wang Yi sat in his office chair, smiling as he answered.
"Xiao Hua, long time no see."
Wang Yi spoke in Chinese. Xiao Hua had hired someone to teach him the language specifically to promote the NBA in China. His Chinese was awkward, but he could understand it.
Hearing Wang Yi's greeting, Xiao Hua gave a bitter laugh and said,
"Wang, when are you coming back?"
Wang Yi unscrewed the cap of his bottle and leisurely took a sip of tea. "Aren't I still suspended? I've served only 20 games. There are 20 more to go."
Xiao Hua gave another bitter laugh. "Your suspension has been lifted. You can come back and play whenever you like."
Wang Yi deliberately feigned surprise.
"Oh, it's been lifted? How can that be? That's against the rules. The NBA is the world's biggest commercial sports league, after all. There's an old Chinese saying: without rules, there can be no order. Everything has to follow the rules. If I was suspended for 40 games, then it should be 40 games—not one less."
Xiao Hua nearly cried when he heard that. Speaking in clumsy Chinese, he said,
"Come on, buddy, could you stop messing with