A seemingly ordinary "budget" triple-double.
Those 15 points were his lowest first-half scoring total of this postseason.
And to the commentators and fans in the arena, 10 assists was already an impressive number.
But only Li Fei and his teammates knew that if Houston and Larry Johnson had shot more normally in the first quarter, that number would have been at least 15.
In the locker room, the atmosphere was much more relaxed than it had been at the end of the first quarter.
The players were still exhausted, but the stifled, bewildered expressions had vanished from their faces.
Van Gundy marked up the tactics board, stressing the defensive details for the second half, but he knew perfectly well that the turnaround in the second quarter had come entirely from Li Fei's on-court adjustments.
As head coach, he was more like someone sitting in the passenger seat and applauding.
Meanwhile, in a luxury box at the top of Madison Square Garden, Knicks general manager Scott Layden held a glass of bourbon, frowning deeply as he watched the bustle on the court through the window.
Beside him sat the team's player development coach, a man named Tom Thibodeau.
Thibodeau was known for his obsession with defense and his almost fanatical work ethic.
"Tom, what do you think?" Layden took a sip of his drink. The burning liquid slid down his throat, but it could not dispel the unease in his heart.
"The San Antonio Spurs' strategy has worked very well, Scott."
Thibodeau's voice was hoarse and low, as though he had just spent an entire game shouting. "They found our weak spot. Frankly, our perimeter firepower isn't top-tier in this league."
Layden nodded in full agreement. He set down his glass, folded his hands on the table, and unconsciously tapped his