Zhou Ling'an asked Wang Yi a second question:
"Earlier, you said you came to conquer the NBA. What did you mean by that?"
As she spoke, she repeated the question in English.
Her intention was obvious.
She wanted Wang Yi to explain himself.
What Wang Yi had said earlier had offended far too many people.
If he could give a good explanation now—something like, "I came to win over NBA fans," or "By conquer, I meant earning everyone's respect; people misunderstood me"—then people might change their impression of him.
She was giving Wang Yi a way out.
Wang Yi understood what she meant.
But he didn't explain.
Instead, he simply said:
"I mean exactly what I said."
Zhou Ling'an froze, then secretly shook her head.
It seemed Wang Yi had made up his mind.
Having ideals was a good thing, but in the current situation, it was terribly inappropriate for a player on a ten-day contract to say something like that.
Still, Zhou Ling'an couldn't help feeling a quiet admiration for Wang Yi.
He dared to defy the whole world and voice what he truly thought.
She had imagined doing something like that, too.
But she hadn't dared.
There were probably very few people in the world who would.
At that thought, her gaze rested on Wang Yi with a new glint in her eyes.
Next, she asked him a few brief questions.
After the interview, she asked Wang Yi:
"Are you free? Let's get something to eat. As a thank-you."
Wang Yi shook his head.
"After I get back and take a shower, I have to fly to Portland tonight. I'm afraid I won't have time."
Zhou Ling'an looked a little disappointed.
"Then some other time."
Wang Yi nodded. "Next time."
Meanwhile, at a certain high school in China, it was noon.
Wang Yi's father, Wang Jianhua, was walking toward the staff cafeteria.
He was in a good mood today.
He hadn't wanted his son to play basketball because he knew just how murky the waters were.
He had once played professional basketball himself, and he could say he'd suffered deeply because of it.
When his son joined the NBA, the whole school had been buzzing.
Yet he alone had worn a gloomy expression day after day.
He knew all too well that basketball was a sport that depended heavily on talent.
With Wang Yi's abilities, joining the NBA would only land him on the bench.
Before long, the domestic media would go from excitement to disappointment, then mockery and sarcasm.
And the fans would go from excitement to disappointment, ridicule, and abuse.
Wang Yi would have to bear all of it alone.
The next two years had gone exactly as Wang Jianhua had expected.
Even some teachers at the school had begun gossiping behind his back, though they kept quiet to his face.
But over the past few days, Wang Yi had put together three good games in a row.
The people around them had already started to change their attitude toward him.
However, the boastful remark Wang Yi had made earlier had cooled their attitude toward him again.
But today, he had beaten the Wizards and defeated that Japanese player who'd been acting so smug. It was immensely satisfying.
On his way to the cafeteria, students kept greeting him:
"Hello, Mr. Wang!"
"Sir, Brother Yi is amazing!"
"Mr. Wang, could you get me Brother Yi's autograph sometime? I'm a huge fan of his."
Once he reached the cafeteria and got his food, several PE teachers called out to him:
"Old Wang, come over here! Sit with us!"
"Old Wang's in a good mood today. Look, he's got a few more wrinkles on that old face."
"Of course he's happy. Any father would be, seeing his son do so well."
One of the PE teachers asked him:
"Hey, Old Wang, with your son playing this well, his guaranteed contract for the season must be worth quite a bit. Why are you still working as a PE teacher? If I were you, I'd have quit already and gone off to enjoy life."
Wang Jianhua shook his head.
"NBA contracts get taxed so heavily that there isn't much left to take home. Besides, no matter how much he earns, it's his money. What's that got to do with me?"
That was what Wang Jianhua said, and it was what he thought.
He had never planned to rely on his son to support him.
His monthly salary was over 7,000, which was enough to support him and his wife.
Just then, the head of the PE department came over with his tray.
Seeing Wang Jianhua, he said:
"Old Wang, I wanted to discuss something with you."
Wang Jianhua asked, "What is it?"
The department head said:
"During the NBA offseason, could you ask Wang Yi to come to our school and train the players on the school team?"
Wang Jianhua immediately shook his head.
"He probably won't come back during the offseason. He'll need to stay over there and train."
In truth, Wang Jianhua felt somewhat resistant to the idea.
Back when Wang Yi hadn't made it, those school administrators hadn't even looked kindly at him.
Now that Wang Yi had played a few good games, they were suddenly coming to him.
That was the way of the world: cold and fickle.
Wang Jianhua had seen through it all.
He didn't blame them.
But if Wang Yi had a chance to make it, then he needed to train hard during the offseason and improve.
He shouldn't waste his time on these social obligations.
Even if Wang Yi did come back for a few days during the offseason, he deserved time to rest properly, not to take part in all sorts of pointless activities.
The other PE teachers saw how bluntly Wang Jianhua had turned down the department head.
They all shook their heads to themselves.
Wang Jianhua was capable, but he was too straightforward and had no knack for dealing with people.
That was why, after all these years, he hadn't even made it to head of the PE department, let alone become an administrator.
Seeing Wang Jianhua rebuff him in front of everyone, the department head's smile faded slightly.
He said, "Wang Yi's training is the priority. He's bringing glory to the country, after all. We shouldn't trouble him with something as minor as this."
There was already a hint of displeasure in his words.
The other PE teachers shook their heads.
Wang Jianhua naturally heard the meaning behind the department head's words.
But he couldn't be bothered to put any effort into cultivating social connections.
As long as his son could truly make it, nothing else mattered.
On the bus to the airport, Wang Yi received a call from his agent.
The agency Wang Yi had signed with was the newly established CN Agency.
Its owner was a Chinese descendant.
But the owner had clearly underestimated the importance of connections in the NBA.
As a result, CN Agency wasn't doing very well.
Nearly all the players it had signed were players who couldn't get playing time.
Wang Yi's agent, Luo Lin, was also a Chinese descendant, and a rookie agent.
She had neither connections nor money.
Only players who were truly desperate would sign with an agency like this and an agent like her.
The players she represented were mostly on short-term contracts.
Just then, Luo Lin called.
"Wang Yi, Pelinka just called me. He said that over these four games, you've proven yourself. He wants to convert your deal to a guaranteed contract early—a guaranteed contract worth five million dollars."
There was a note of excitement in Luo Lin's voice, though she was trying to keep it in check.
Five million dollars meant a four-percent commission for her—two hundred thousand dollars.
How could she not be excited?
Luo Lin continued:
"But your performance has already exceeded expectations. Should we wait and see what other teams offer? I'm sure the other teams with cap space could make you a higher offer."
Before you continue