The First Signs?

Since the Celtics had another back-to-back coming up, Chen Xi didn't keep Brown for dinner. They just agreed to catch up next time he went to Boston.

The next day, Chen Xi took Grandpa around the arena again, showing him the training routines he usually followed.

"You must've been through a lot." The old man didn't care how advanced the equipment was or how well the team was equipped. He only cared about his grandson. Looking up at the man who stood a head taller than him, he saw the little boy from more than a decade ago. Back then, Chen Xi had only come up to his thigh, and the old man could pat his head without even raising his hand. How had he grown so tall in the blink of an eye?

Then he looked at the solid muscles on Chen Xi now. The old man couldn't imagine how much effort he'd put into training or how much he'd suffered to become the way he was.

Even though he didn't know much about basketball, he knew that on Earth, it was a sport dominated by other races. There were only a handful of yellow players in the entire NBA. How hard had his grandson had to work to make it in?

"Aw, it's nothing. Working out's good for your health, too. I'm strong as an ox now, and my immune system's great!" Chen put on a carefree grin and showed his grandfather his biceps.

"You've grown up and have a mind of your own now. All I hope is that you don't push yourself too hard. Knowing when to stop is enough. We don't have to reach for the very top. You're already earning plenty. Put some money aside, and when you get tired, retire. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Hahaha, sure. If I ever get tired, I'll retire and come help out at the shop."

"That won't do. You're so clumsy you'd wreck my kitchen."

"Hahahahahaha."

That evening, after dinner, Chen Xi saw the old man off.

In the parking lot, Chen Xi watched the passenger plane streak across the fiery-red sky at sunset, his heart heavy as it grew smaller in the distance.

"Time to go home, time to go home~~" He turned and got into his car, then pulled out his phone.

"I still need to ask Veronica for a ticket. If it's a home game, the one on the seventeenth against the Suns should work."

Though his grandfather had been the focus these past few days, Chen hadn't forgotten to keep in touch with the very forward beauty.

"I'm doomed. I've fallen in love~~" Chen chuckled at himself, sent a text to the team's assistant manager, then started the car and slowly headed home.

Unexpectedly, the Thunder's two-game road trip to Portland and Utah ended in two straight losses. The entire team was left fuming, with nowhere to vent.

Against the Trail Blazers, Portland—whose entire roster seemed to have turned into sharpshooters—had simply shot the Thunder to death. With a 67% field-goal percentage, even the Cosmic Warriors would've had a hard time winning.

As for the game against the Jazz, Salt Lake City's altitude of 1,300 meters left Chen Xi, visiting for the first time, feeling distinctly unwell. He suffered a bout of altitude sickness, and with Odie and Little Sabonis both lost on the court, even Westbrook's 37+6+8 couldn't save them.

On the sixteenth, after landing, everyone went their separate ways.

But for the first time, Chen found someone waiting to pick him up.

Veronica had been waiting there for quite a while.

"Chris, are you okay?" The woman wore a white cashmere sweater under a khaki coat, with a black-and-gray striped scarf around her neck. On the bottom, she had on shorts and thigh-high stockings. Concern in her eyes, she walked up to greet him.

She clearly knew the Thunder hadn't had a pleasant time on their two-game road trip.

"Why wouldn't I be? I'm great. There's an old Chinese saying: 'Victory and defeat are commonplace in war.' It's no big deal."

The moment Chen saw the beauty, his eyes went straight to her. He didn't have a second to spare for the damn game results. Did any of that matter? Not at all!

"Good. Then shall we go? It's a little cold out here."

"Let's go. You're the one dressed so lightly. Aren't your legs cold? Women are so strange."

"How rude. When a lady dresses up, all you need to do is tell her she looks beautiful. There's no need to indulge your curiosity." Veronica rolled her eyes at Chen, then stepped forward, linked arms with him, and headed for the parking lot.

After spending more time together and talking more, Veronica had seen the real Chen Xi. He wasn't some shy little boy at all. He was just a closet flirt; once he got comfortable, he'd start cracking jokes and spouting cheesy lines. Of course, she didn't mind.

Once they were back in the car together, the mood began to heat up. Unable to withstand Veronica's affectionate gaze, Chen started the car and drove toward a well-known restaurant.

Their schedule for the day was already packed, so they couldn't afford to waste time.

But Veronica clearly had no intention of stopping. After all, she'd had to wait so long. She was going to collect some interest first!

She kept touching his face and his thigh. Chen suspected that if he hadn't been driving, she would've devoured him on the spot. The look in her eyes was practically dripping with desire.

He couldn't help pressing harder on the gas and speeding toward their destination.

Thunder Team, general manager's office.

Presti and Donovan sat across from each other in leather chairs.

"Billy, do you think Chris can replace Victor?" Presti asked Donovan, watching him intently and hoping the team's Head Coach would give him the answer he wanted.

"As things stand, Chris still has a ways to go before he can match Victor. But as the Head Coach, if I had to choose, I'd still pick Chris." Donovan considered it carefully before giving his opinion.

"You know, just over a month ago, Chris was a late second-round pick who couldn't get playing time. For a rookie, he's improved a little too quickly. It makes me really curious about his future."

As he spoke, Donovan pulled out a sheet of stats.

A month ago, Chen Xi's shot chart showed only three-pointers. He relied solely on catch-and-shoot opportunities created by his Off-Ball Pest movement, and shot 60%. Half a month later, his shot distribution had expanded to include mid-range shots and a small number of attempts near the basket. His true shooting percentage was 54%, and his three-point percentage was 57%.

His latest numbers showed that he was attempting more shots at the rim than from mid-range. His true shooting percentage had climbed to 62%, while his three-point percentage was 55%.

His defensive rating had also shown visible improvement over the brief span of just a month and a half.

After looking over the stats, Presti felt even more certain of his plan.

With Westbrook on the team, tanking wasn't an option. Wasting Westbrook's prime would earn them a torrent of abuse from Oklahoma City fans.

On top of that, the backcourt was crowded, while the team lacked depth on the wing.

If Chen Xi could successfully take over Oladipo's spot and handle enough of the workload, then Oladipo—an unequivocal positive asset—could be traded for an excellent wing player, greatly improving the team's balance.