42: A private invitation from the diva

The aston martin drove smoothly along the empty midnight streets of Los Angeles.

Outside the window, the city's neon lights rapidly sped backward, merging into blurry halos of light.

Lin Feng's fingers subconsciously touched his right cheek.

The warm, moist feel and faint scent of Taylor Swift's lipstick seemed to linger there.

In his mind, the blue progress bar was quietly suspended at ninety percent.

Aomine Daikis Formless Shot.

This string of gray characters, once unattainable, now emitted a faint glow, ready to be illuminated.

Only one final step remained.

Only the final ten percent remained.

Lin Feng's heart beat steadily and powerfully.

He knew that he was within arm's reach of obtaining the power capable of overturning any game.

Just then.

"Buzz—"

The phone resting on the center console lit up and vibrated softly.

He glanced at it.

It was a new text message.

It came from an unfamiliar number.

Lin Feng opened the message, and a line of English appeared on the screen.

"It seems you made your choice tonight. However, my invitation is still valid, if you want to see a different kind of art."

There was no signature at the end of the message.

But Lin Feng instantly knew who the sender was.

Scarlett Johansson.

That husky voice, that playful gaze, that amber whiskey.

This woman was like a lazy yet dangerous feline; even after the party ended, her claw marks were still clear.

She had also become interested in him.

The corner of Lin Feng's mouth curved into a subtle smile.

A choice?

Only children make choices.

He picked up his phone, tapped quickly on the screen, and replied with a message.

"It would be a great honor, and I look forward to having the opportunity to admire your collection."

He neither accepted nor outright refused.

Like an experienced card player, he wouldn't show all his cards too early, instead keeping the possibilities firmly in his hands.

He tossed the phone back onto the passenger seat.

Lin Feng stepped on the gas, the sports car engine let out a low growl, and he accelerated deeper into the night.

He returned to his luxury apartment located in the city center.

Lin Feng took off the Armani suit and casually draped it over the sofa.

He walked up to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the sleeping city below.

Tonight's party felt like a magnificent coming-of-age ceremony.

He was no longer just the basketball rookie who hit the game-winner at Staples Center.

He used the most direct method to announce his arrival to Los Angeles's highest social circles.

He was no longer a commodity to be assessed, but a player qualified to sit at the table.

Whether it was the verbal sparring with Ryan Collins, the mental resonance with Taylor on the balcony, or Scarlett's suggestive probing.

All of this made him realize more clearly that in this arena of fame and fortune, strength and charm were the only passes.

And the charm basketball system was his biggest trump card... The next day, at the Lakers training facility.

Not long after training began, Nick Young approached, holding a colorful entertainment newspaper and grinning mischievously.

He unfolded the newspaper in front of Lin Feng; the front-page headline featured a huge high-definition photo.

The photo showed Taylor Swift intimately holding Lin Feng's arm at the party last night.

The headline was extremely exaggerated.

"Diva's New Romance Exposed! Mysterious Eastern Boyfriend is the Lakers' New King!"

"Dude, nice job!"

Nick Young winked and nudged Lin Feng with his elbow.

"It's only been a few days? And you've already snagged the Diva?"

"Quick, tell me, what happened last night? Is it true, like the papers say, that you two already..."

His voice wasn't quiet, and several teammates who were warming up nearby heard it, casting curious and gossipy glances their way.

Lin Feng glanced at the newspaper, then at Nick Young's face, which was plastered with "curiosity."

He just smiled and ignored him.

He picked up a basketball and walked straight toward the other end of the court.

There, Kobe Bryant had already begun his personal shooting practice, as if all the outside noise had nothing to do with him.

"Hey, don't leave! Share the experience!"

Nick Young shouted reluctantly from behind.

Lin Feng did not look back.

He joined Kobe's morning practice.

Sweat quickly soaked his training uniform.

The soreness and exhaustion in his muscles gradually cleared his mind of distractions concerning parties, women, and gossip.

All he needed to do now was focus.

Kobe's training intensity was, as always, terrifying.

The two silently engaged in various high-intensity drills and shooting practice; the only sounds in the gym were the basketball hitting the floor and swishing through the net.

An hour later, the morning practice ended.

Kobe tossed Lin Feng a bottle of water, and picked up one for himself and twisted the cap open.

"Don't let things off the court affect your focus."

Kobe's voice was flat, but his gaze was sharp as he looked at Lin Feng.

"The Memphis Grizzlies are not a team like the Los Angeles Clippers."

"They will use their bodies, trash talk, and every dirty trick to stop you from scoring."

"Tony Allen will stick to you like gum, and Zach Randolph and Marc Gasol will turn the paint into a slaughterhouse."

"If you're thinking about what a woman's lipstick tastes like on the court, they will tear you apart."

Lin Feng twisted open the water bottle and chugged a few mouthfuls.

"I understand."

He replied calmly.

Kobe looked at his clear and determined eyes, nodded, and didn't say anything more.

He knew that this young man didn't need excessive lecturing.

Deep down, they were the same kind of person.

Over the next few days, Lin Feng completely immersed himself in high-intensity training.

Team strategy drills, personal strength enhancement, and research into the Grizzlies' defensive system.

He dedicated all his energy to preparation.

The rumors about him and Taylor continued to spread in the media, but he made no response.

He was like an isolated island; no matter how strong the external storms, they couldn't move him in the slightest.

The day of the Lakers' away game against the Memphis Grizzlies arrived.

The night before the team was scheduled to leave for the airport.

Lin Feng had just finished extra practice and returned to his apartment.

At the door, there was an exquisitely packaged black box.

He picked it up; the box was light and had no sender information on it.

Lin Feng closed the door and placed the box on the coffee table in the living room.

He unwrapped the packaging.

Inside the box, soft black velvet was laid out.

On the velvet lay a black card and a uniquely shaped silver key.

The card was made of metal, with a matte texture, and had a music symbol LOGO printed on it using hot stamping, but nothing else.

Lin Feng picked up the card and flipped it over.

On the back of the card was a small sticky note.

Written on it was a beautiful line of English with a slightly flowing script.

"Access card and key to my private recording studio."

"I want to sing my new song to you first."

The signature was a capital "T".

Lin Feng stood in the living room, holding the card and key.

Outside the window, the Los Angeles night view was still bustling.

This was an invitation that couldn't be refused.