48: The performance of the King of Acrobatics

P.J. Tucker and Dragic, like two hungry wolves closing in, instantly blocked all of Lin Feng's paths forward.

Their bodies pressed in tight, arms outstretched, obscuring his vision and compressing the space.

The atmosphere in the Staples Center suddenly tightened.

The suffocating feeling from the previous game seemed about to repeat itself.

However, just as the double-team was about to close, Lin Feng made a move that caught everyone off guard.

He stopped his dribble.

His body came to a sudden halt, and he used the momentum to turn his back, facing completely away from the basket.

This move caused Tucker and Dragic's lunges to miss, and the two almost collided due to inertia.

They were both stunned.

Back to the basket? What was he doing? Passing?

But the other Lakers players were being smothered by the Suns' defenders; there was no passing lane at all.

In the instant countless guesses flashed through the defenders' minds,

Lin Feng moved.

He didn't turn around, and he didn't look.

He simply tossed the basketball from behind his back with one hand, casually lofting it toward the basket.

The action was nonchalant.

There was no sense of power, no apparent technique.

It was like someone in their backyard casually tossing a piece of trash into a bin.

The basketball cleared Tucker and Dragic's raised arms and sailed over their bewildered heads.

It flew into the air, tracing an absurdly high and strangely curved arc.

Everyone's head was tilted back.

That ball didn't look like it was headed for the rim at all.

Its target was the top edge of the backboard!

"Thud!"

A dull sound echoed.

The basketball struck the top edge of the white backboard frame squarely!

Then, under the gaze of twenty thousand pairs of eyes, something that defied the laws of Newton occurred.

The basketball didn't bounce away.

As if pulled by an invisible force, it fell bizarrely and vertically downward.

"Swish!"

Another crisp sound of the ball hitting the net, a sound that broke the hearts of the Suns players.

It went in again!

If the first basket was a stroke of genius born of luck and physical imbalance,

then this shot was a blatant subversion of the common sense of basketball!

P.J. Tucker, the tough guy known for his iron-blooded defense, was completely frozen.

He slowly lowered his raised arms and turned his head, looking at the still-swaying net in disbelief.

He had defended all the top scorers in the league.

He had seen all kinds of unreasonable baskets.

But he had never seen anything like this.

How do you defend this?

How was he supposed to guard a madman who threw the ball at the top of the backboard with his back to the hoop?

Dragic simply threw up his hands; he looked toward the coaching bench, his eyes filled with despair and bewilderment.

Coach, how do we defend this?

Tell me, how on earth are we supposed to defend this?!

On the sidelines, Suns head coach Jeff Hornacek, who had just sat down, sprang back up again.

His mouth was open, but he couldn't say a word.

Roar? Protest?

What was he going to protest?

Protest that the opponent wasn't following the standard playbook?

The Lakers' bench hadn't just exploded; it had gone nuclear.

Nick Young jumped straight out of his seat and rushed to the sidelines, performing a full prostrate bow in Lin Feng's direction.

"My God! This is the true SWAGGY P!"

At the commentator's desk, Marv Albert fell silent.

In his decades in the business, it was the first time he felt his vocabulary was so impoverished.

"I... I don't know what to say, Chris."

"I can only say that what the Phoenix Suns encountered tonight might not be a basketball player."

Chris Webber took over, his voice carrying a dreamlike tremble.

"He's a magician."

"An eastern magician who has turned the Staples Center into his personal magic show stage."

Suns' possession.

Dragic's mindset had clearly been completely rattled by those two previous baskets.

His dribble was unsteady, and under Nash's constant pressure, a rushed pass flew straight out of bounds.

Turnover!

The Staples Center erupted in cheers.

Possession returned to the Lakers.

Nash brought the ball across half-court; this time, he didn't even bother with a symbolic play setup.

He handed the ball directly to Lin Feng.

Then, like a loyal spectator, he ran to the corner to completely clear out the space for Lin Feng.

The stage belongs entirely to you now.

The Suns' defense was in total disarray.

Hornacek was shouting from the sidelines, telling them to maintain their formation.

But the players' conviction had been destroyed.

Facing Lin Feng with the ball again, they were caught in a dilemma.

Go for the double-team?

He would throw the ball in using a method you couldn't even imagine.

Don't double-team?

He would blow past you with his lightning-fast first step!

Amidst the hesitation, the Suns eventually bit the bullet and sent three men over, forming an even tighter enclosure.

Tucker, Dragic, and Shannon Brown, who had rotated over to help.

The three of them pinned Lin Feng down outside the three-point line.

Surely there was no way out this time, right?

However, Lin Feng's personal performance had only just begun.

Facing the triple-team, he suddenly flashed a smile.

Immediately after, he made a move that drove the entire NBA arena wild.

He gently tossed the basketball into the air!

The ball didn't fly high, just enough to clear the heads of the three defenders.

"What is he doing?!"

"Is he committing suicide?!"

Just as everyone gasped, Lin Feng's body moved like a boneless loach.

He squeezed right through the gap between Tucker and Dragic—a gap so narrow it seemed impossible to pass through!

Then, on the other side, he steadily caught the descending basketball.

The entire process was seamless, filled with the creative and uninhibited flair of streetball!

The three defenders were left completely in the dust!

After catching the ball, the path ahead of Lin Feng was wide open.

He took one dribble forward and took off on one foot near the free-throw line!

His body traced an elegant arc in the air, looking as if he were drifting through the sky.

Finally, with an effortless flick of the wrist,

the basketball obediently found the bottom of the net once more.

"Swish!"

At the commentator's desk, Marv Albert could no longer control his emotions. He grabbed the microphone and roared with all his might.

"This isn't basketball!"

"This isn't an NBA game!"

"This is AND1! This is a streetball tour!"

"Oh my God! He's turned an NBA court into his own personal playground!"

At that moment, the Suns' defensive system was declared completely collapsed.

The players' mindsets were totally broken.

On the next possession, Lin Feng drove with the ball again.

A humiliated and furious P.J. Tucker gave up on any defensive play and used a crude football tackle to slam Lin Feng to the floor.

"Whistle—!"

The referee's whistle blew without hesitation.

Flagrant foul!

Lin Feng stood up from the floor, brushed the dust off himself, his face devoid of expression.

He walked to the free-throw line.

Inside the Staples Center, twenty thousand fans spontaneously began a rhythmic chant.

"Show-Time!"

"Show-Time!"

"Show-Time!"

The mountain-shaking cheers heralded the birth of a new king.

On the sidelines, Lakers head coach D'Antoni had already tossed aside his clipboard.

He simply stood there with his arms crossed, a smile of gratification and appreciation on his face.

He didn't need to do anything.

He only needed to quietly enjoy this storm of offense, orchestrated by Lin Feng, which was magnificent to the extreme.

The remaining time turned entirely into Lin Feng's personal show.

Ultra-long-range no-look threes.

Double-clutch reverse layups after the drive.

Fadeaway jumpers over two defenders.

He used all sorts of inconceivable ways that completely defied basketball logic to tear through the Suns' defense time and again.

The whistle blew to end the third quarter.

On the big screen at the Staples Center, Lin Feng's stats for the quarter were displayed.

Thirty points in a single quarter!

The game had officially entered garbage time.

Lin Feng was subbed out, receiving the highest honor of a standing ovation from the entire crowd.

He calmly walked back to the bench.

At that moment, the broadcast camera didn't follow him.

Instead, it focused precisely on another person on the sidelines.

Kobe Bryant.

He wasn't cheering and celebrating like the others.

His expression was more serious than ever before.

He turned his head and whispered a few words to the lead assistant coach, Phil Handy, beside him.

After hearing them, the expression on Phil Handy's face instantly shifted from initial excitement to solemnity and shock.