"When Li Fei decided to take over the game, victory became as inevitable as the sunrise. Last night, everyone at Madison Square Garden, along with fans around the world, witnessed that moment. He did not charge into the paint and finish with violent dunks. Instead, he chose the most elegant—and most despair-inducing—method: mid-range jumpers, one after another. Like a graceful executioner, he precisely severed every last shred of hope from his opponents."
New York's fans had completely descended into delirium.
From the street courts of Brooklyn to Times Square in Manhattan, fans wearing Knicks No. 33 jerseys could be seen everywhere.
In bars, people watched the game highlights over and over. Whenever Li Fei hit a difficult shot, the entire bar erupted in deafening cheers and applause.
"Did you see that? That three-pointer! My God, Duncan's fingers were practically poking him in the face!"
"And that pull-up jumper from the free-throw line! The Twin Towers were contesting it! How did that ball go in? Did God personally press it into the basket?"
"I'm telling you, that's our emperor! He played for 43 minutes, then said, 'All right, game over!'"
"We have Li Fei! What else is there to worry about? Four games! I bet we sweep them in four!"
And across the distant ocean, in China.
It was morning there. Countless fans, still bleary-eyed with sleep, learned the result through all kinds of channels.
In an instant, excitement and exhilaration drove away every trace of drowsiness.
In a college dormitory, a boy abruptly sat up on the top bunk, shaking the bedrail in excitement as he shouted to his roommate below, "We won! We won! Brother Fei scored 12 straight in the last five minutes and wrecked the Spurs' Twin Towers!"
The guy on the lower bunk rubbed his eyes