Monica: Old rules, one at a time!

In a hotel suite in Beverly Hills, Li Fei had just finished showering and walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

Monica Bellucci lay on her side on the sofa, propping up her head. Her deep, captivating eyes watched him with interest, and a teasing smile curled at the corner of her lips.

"So? Our all-powerful champion, you got careless, didn't you?" Her voice carried a languid, magnetic quality.

Li Fei picked up a bottle of mineral water, twisted it open, and took a long gulp. There was no sign of post-loss dejection on his face. He walked over and sat beside her, pulled Monica into his arms, and smiled. "What's the rush? We just... decided at the last minute that winning the championship at Madison Square Garden would feel even better."

"Oh?" Monica's finger lightly traced circles over his firm chest. "I watched the game. Your team didn't seem to have much fighting spirit today. The Lakers, on the other hand, played like they were ready to risk their lives."

"A trapped beast will still fight." Li Fei spoke blandly. "It's normal. One win will rekindle their hope, which is good. Because only when they think they still have a chance can we crush that hope with our own hands and make them despair even more."

From the opening tip, the Lakers' momentum had indeed been stronger.

As for the Knicks, after three blowout wins and with this being an away game, that taut string in the players' subconscious had genuinely loosened.

Rather than fighting to the death against a pack of desperadoes on the road, it was better to return home and lift the trophy amid thunderous cheers.

Once that thought took root, it became hard to tense up again.

Monica giggled. Leaning close to Li