46: An unpredictable storm is coming!

The mechanical prompt faded into the depths of his consciousness.

The next moment, an unimaginably massive torrent of information, like a flood bursting through a dam, poured arrogantly into Lin Feng's mind.

It wasn't simple knowledge or images.

It was something more fundamental.

It was a total subversion and reshaping of his perception of his body, basketball, and space!

His body tensed uncontrollably, muscle fibers quivering, and his bones let out faint creaks.

Brand new muscle memory was being forcibly written, overwritten, and fused.

In Lin Feng's mind, countless inconceivable shooting motion images flashed and intersected.

Extreme fadeaways.

Releasing the ball with his body twisted to the limit.

Even tossing the ball into the hoop from behind the backboard at an impossible angle.

These movements were no longer exaggerated performances from an animation; they had become an instinct of his body.

He felt his control over every muscle, every joint, and every ligament reach an unfathomable new realm.

He closed his eyes.

A clear scene took shape in his mind.

He could "see" himself lying on his bedroom floor, using an extremely awkward posture to shoot a virtual basketball with one hand, sending it into a virtual hoop on the ceiling in a perfect arc.

Every detail of the process—how the muscles exerted force, how the wrist flicked—was crystal clear.

This was the Formless Shot.

A way of scoring that utilized physical talent and ball feel to the extreme, ignoring rules and form—the freest way to score.

It didn't need space.

It didn't need tactics.

All it needed was to get the ball into that person's hands.

Lin Feng opened his eyes, his consciousness returning to this recording studio filled with an ambiguous atmosphere.

Taylor's soft body was still nestled in his arms, her breathing steady; she seemed to have exhausted all her strength in the intense collision earlier and had fallen into a deep sleep.

He looked down at her peaceful sleeping face, her golden hair scattered across his chest.

This night, this woman, had opened a door to a whole new world for him... The next morning.

When the first ray of sunlight filtered through the gaps in the blinds, casting mottled bands of light across the room, Lin Feng opened his eyes.

He was awake.

Clearer than he had ever been.

His body was filled with an unprecedented sense of power and coordination, as if every cell was cheering.

The fatigue from the previous night had vanished, replaced by an overflowing excitement and energy.

The entire world felt different in his perception.

He could clearly hear the car horns from the street outside and distinguish the unique blend of scents from the incense, the red wine, and Taylor herself.

The beauty beside him stirred and slowly woke up as well.

Taylor opened those charming blue eyes and saw Lin Feng watching her; instead of being shy, she generously offered a lazy morning kiss.

“Good morning, my artist.”

Her voice carried the unique huskiness of the early morning, sexy and captivating.

Lin Feng smiled.

“Good morning.”

Taylor sat up in bed, her silk nightgown sliding down to reveal a large expanse of snow-white skin and perfect shoulder and neck lines.

She didn't mind, instead reaching for the notebook and pen that had been on the nightstand, then picking up the guitar that had been left behind last night.

She leaned against Lin Feng, barefoot, placing the guitar on her lap and casually plucking a few chords.

A new melody, brighter and more whimsical than the one from last night, flowed from her fingertips.

As she played, she wrote something in her notebook, humming out-of-tune lyrics under her breath.

She was completely immersed in her creative world.

Lin Feng didn't disturb her, simply watching this scene quietly.

This woman was a radiant diva on stage, but in private, she was a pure artist who lived for inspiration.

After a long while, Taylor stopped, a satisfied smile appearing on her face.

She turned her head to look at Lin Feng and waved the notebook in her hand.

“I have the chorus for the new song.”

“Oh?” Lin Feng asked curiously, “Can I hear it?”

Taylor cleared her throat, held her guitar, and began to hum softly in her unique voice.

“You got that James Dean, daydream look in your eye...”

(You have that melancholic James Dean look in your eyes)

“And I got that red lip, classic thing that you like...”

(And I have that classic red lip that you love)

“And when we crashed, we came back each time...”

(When we fall apart, we come back every time)

“Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style...”

(Because we never go out of style)

The singing was light and the melody was catchy, filled with the unruly and flamboyant spirit of youth.

After finishing, Taylor looked at Lin Feng with bright eyes.

“What do you think?”

“It's great,” Lin Feng praised sincerely.

“I've thought of the name for this song.” Taylor put down the guitar and wrote a word on the title page of the notebook with her pen.

Then, she showed the notebook to Lin Feng.

Written on it was — "Style".

“For you, my dear wild boy,” she said with a smile, her eyes full of mischief and admiration.

Lin Feng looked at the word, then at her.

In this moment, their relationship entered a new, tacitly understood stage.

No promises, no restraints.

Just two souls at the top of their respective fields, attracting and fulfilling each other... That night, Staples Center.

The Lakers hosted the Phoenix Suns.

The atmosphere in the locker room was somewhat heavy.

The crushing defeat against the Grizzlies in the previous game had everyone on the team feeling a surge of pent-up determination.

head coach D'Antoni was arranging tactics; he walked up to Lin Feng with a look of concern on his face.

“Lin, you flew back from Memphis overnight. Can your body handle it?”

The defeat in Memphis, combined with the fatigue of the long flight, made D'Antoni worry about Lin Feng's condition.

“How about you come off the bench tonight to reduce your playing time and adjust?”

He was acting out of good intentions.

However, Lin Feng shook his head.

He looked up, meeting his head coach's gaze calmly.

But beneath that calm was a sense of power that even D'Antoni found startling.

“Coach.”

Lin Feng spoke; his tone wasn't heavy, but it carried an unquestionable weight.

“Let me play the entire first quarter.”

D'Antoni was stunned.

He looked into Lin Feng's eyes; there was no confusion or anxiety from the last game, only pure confidence and a nearly cruel desire.

It was the look of a beast that had been hungry for too long and had finally spotted its prey.

“Tonight will be different,” Lin Feng added.

D'Antoni was silent for a few seconds.

In Lin Feng, he saw something similar to Kobe.

That paranoid, absolute desire for control over victory.

He finally nodded.

“Alright.”

The whistle blew to start the game.

Staples Center was brightly lit, and the fans' cheers were deafening.

The Suns' coach had clearly studied the footage of the Lakers' previous game.

From the start, they assigned the team's fiercest defender, P.J. Tucker, to play full-court press on him.

The same strategy, the same tight pressure.

History seemed about to repeat itself.

The Lakers' first offensive possession.

Lin Feng held the ball at the top of the arc, facing Tucker, who was pressing against him like a bull.

He didn't rush to break free like in the previous game, nor did he choose to pass.

He simply made a jab step to the right.

Tucker's center of gravity shifted immediately.

Now!

Lin Feng executed a sudden reverse crossover, the basketball tracing a lightning-fast arc between his legs.

His first step was shockingly fast!

Tucker felt his vision blur; Lin Feng had already brushed past his left side like a gust of wind!

Blown by in one step!

The Suns' center, Gortat, rushed over to help defend.

Lin Feng didn't slow down; a step inside the free-throw line, he jumped directly toward Gortat's raised arms.

His body collided violently with Gortat in mid-air.

“Bang!”

A dull thud echoed.

Lin Feng's body was knocked out of balance, and he fell backward uncontrollably.

The fans at Staples Center let out a collective gasp.

Everyone thought this would be a failed drive or even an offensive foul.

However, just a moment before his body hit the floor.

Using a posture that completely defied the laws of human mechanics, Lin Feng gave his wrist a light flick.

The basketball was tossed out casually from an incredibly low position.