A Broken Arm, A Fallen Hat! A Vase Isn't Something a Minion Can Call!

Transition to offense.

"Swish!"

Hamilton used his excellent off-ball movement to create an opening, calmly sinking a mid-range shot.

Knicks possession.

Su Yan caught the ball again at the top of the key, one step behind the three-point line. Prince still didn't close out.

It wasn't that he wasn't defending.

But he genuinely gave another full step of space.

Seriously, man? Giving me that much room—you really look down on me that much?

Pride comes before a fall. Learn the lesson.

Su Yan smiled faintly, didn't hesitate, and raised his hand for another three-pointer like a sharp arrow!!!

The sun shines on the incense burner, producing purple smoke—this three-pointer didn't go astray.

"Swish!"

Another one in.

"Still hitting?"

Prince's expression flickered, disbelief in his eyes.

Let me say thank you, because with you, the seasons stay warm.

Su Yan shot Prince a grateful look, thanking him for letting him sink two three-pointers, instantly earning 6000*2 = 12,000 USD.

He had to express his thanks.

But that look only made Prince more and more irritated.

To the side.

The team's second-leading scorer, dual-guard Rodney Stuckey, also flashed surprise in his eyes: "Last game's eight three-pointers weren't just fluff? A lot of luck, huh?!

Besides.

The coach said he's a vase, no real fighting ability."

Originally, Coach John Kuester called Su Yan a vase, and Stuckey didn't believe it.

Come on.

This is the NBA.

Where are all the handsome guys? It's a bunch of roughnecks. Even those dubbed "good-looking" like Iverson or Kobe.

That's only handsome within the NBA, more of an aura thing.

Compared to the outside world, they're just average.

He initially scoffed at Su Yan's looks.

But after seeing him in person, he realized he was wrong.

Su Yan's handsome face was genuinely stunning.

The key... handsome yet tough, deep yet elegant, exuding an incredibly high masculine charm.

It made it hard for him to connect Su Yan with a basketball player.

He even seriously doubted whether the Su Yan who hit eight three-pointers last game and sealed the win against the Thunder's Big Three was really this guy.

Impressive.

Stuckey had nothing to say about Su Yan's "vase" label.

As for his skills, he still wasn't convinced, same as Prince, thinking those two three-pointers were pure luck.

"Hey, Tayshaun!"

Stuckey found Prince. "Last game's outburst gave him confidence, but he's just a vase, looks like he has no fighting ability.

Watch.

I'll go at him, teach him a harsh lesson, break that weird confidence of his, and he'll be done."

"I'm with that."

Prince replied with interest. "If it's Rodney, Su Yan's in for it!!!"

Stuckey was the 15th pick in the '07 draft, a decent spot.

Playing shooting guard, he excelled at driving through contact and could also pull up for jump shots—a scorer who could both drive and shoot.

In his third year, he averaged 16.8 points, 4.2 rebounds, 4.8 assists, 1.5 steals, and 0.3 blocks per game.

On this Pistons team.

He was a qualified second option. Teaching a rookie undrafted player a lesson seemed like a sure thing.

"Thud!"

Ball possession changed.

Stuckey indeed found Su Yan at the top of the key on the left, sizing him up while dribbling.

What the hell...

Is this the kind of looks an NBA player should have?

If you were a woman, I'd find a way to pin you down.

What the hell am I saying? I'm not even human, having such twisted thoughts about a man.

Stuckey slapped himself to snap out of it.

Su Yan: ???

Bro, what's with the self-slap right off the bat?

Self-harm to lower the opponent's focus?

Or can't stand your own face?

Su Yan couldn't quite figure it out, but he couldn't help teasing, "Hey, man, no one cares about your looks. No need to be that insecure."

"Shut it!"

Stuckey snorted, crossed over between his legs, and the moment his right hand grabbed the ball, he burst forward.

No flashy moves.

Pure brute force.

Su Yan's dashing, elegant image instinctively made Stuckey think he was frail.

Add the "pretty boy" label to that.

One touch, and he'd shatter.

"Bang!"

One collision, and Su Yan took a symbolic step back.

First, he played to make money—if he could easily sink three-pointers, he didn't like contact.

Second, he wanted to gauge Stuckey's strength.

After all... if the opponent really wanted to go hard, he wouldn't back down.

Whether it was a steal, a block, or a successful contest under the rim, all of it earned him points.

That meant playing serious defense could still rake in cash.

"Some strength, but not much."

Su Yan flashed a confident, charming smile.

When Stuckey charged in again with a cold face, Su Yan stepped forward to meet him head-on.

Small Forward vs. Shooting Guard.

With [Basic Body Enhancement], Su Yan's strength surpassed that of an average small forward, so he wasn't afraid of Stuckey at all.

Stuckey's next push felt like ramming into a wall—Su Yan didn't budge an inch.

WTF?!

He'd pushed Su Yan back just a moment ago.

Why was he now immovable, with strength like a wall blocking the way?!

This was supposed to be a pretty boy?!

Stuckey was stunned.

He was dazed, but Su Yan didn't give him more time to think or be shocked. In that split second of hesitation, Su Yan struck.

Fast, precise, ruthless.

He slapped the ball out of Stuckey's hands in one motion, then dashed forward again to snatch it up.

Steal +1.

"What a beautiful steal!"

D'Antoni shouted from the sidelines, and assistant coach Morrison Bolton's expression brightened. "Su Yan's defense really is solid!"

"Yan, over here!"

McGrady sprinted ahead, reaching the frontcourt first with no one in front of him—a perfect fast-break opportunity.

"Got it!"

Su Yan didn't hesitate.

He sent a long pass—not perfect in power or angle, but easy enough to deliver.

McGrady slowed his pace slightly and caught the ball cleanly.

One-on-one against the basket.

Three-step drive, lifting the torch skyward.

"Boom!"

A one-handed tomahawk slam left the fans feasting their eyes.

Not only was he incredibly handsome, but Su Yan—who had caused quite a stir in the previous game—and McGrady, one of the "Four Great Shooting Guards."

These two, the most popular players on the Knicks.

A single connection between them instantly ignited the entire arena.

"You little punk, sneaking an attack like that—you've got no martial virtue!"

Stuckey cursed at Su Yan.

It was somewhat unreasonable.

Su Yan didn't indulge him either, firing back: "You're distracted while playing ball—you're damn worthless."

"Just wait, I'll shatter your pretty-boy act this time."

Facing off again.

Stuckey got completely serious, no longer underestimating Su Yan. At least score on him once before trying to show off.

Contact + crossover + spin + hesitation.

Stuckey pulled out all the stops, shaking Su Yan by half a step, driving in straight for the basket.

"Box out and hold it—just lay it up!"

Ben Wallace growled.

He gave Stuckey absolute security!

"This one's in!"

Stuckey was brimming with confidence, already starting to think in his head how he'd taunt Su Yan.

Rookie, welcome to the NBA.

Or... you little punk, I only need thirty percent of my power to handle you—that's more than enough!!!

The next second.

Just as the ball he released was about to touch the backboard, a massive hand slammed it hard against the board!!!