Chapter 72: We Who Will Never Lose

Chapter 84: We Will Not Be Defeated

“By the way, may I ask why my wife didn’t come?” Su Feng and Li Wegner were not yet married, so when Kobe Bryant said “wife,” he was actually referring to Su Feng’s mother, Wen Xue.

Kobe Bryant had not forgotten last year’s Christmas, when he’d invited Su Feng’s family to celebrate with him. Su Feng’s mother was an extraordinary woman—she had left a deep impression not only on Kobe himself but on his whole family.

“She was worried that her presence might seem out of place at a gathering for young people, so she asked me to bring her blessings instead.”

“No problem. When I have time, I’ll go visit her myself!” Kobe Bryant seemed genuinely happy. After all, the German’s recent experiences had been nothing short of brilliant.

Life was like a dream, and perhaps no one felt this more deeply than Kobe Bryant. Only a few days ago, the German Tank had just claimed his first career championship. His thirty-third birthday had become a moment of profound significance.

After chatting with Kobe, Su Feng and Li Wegner joined the party. Wegner was open-minded and quickly blended in, playing games with everyone else. Su Feng, quiet by nature, simply raised his glass now and then and made small talk with those he knew.

But Su Feng noticed that, even in the midst of the wild revelry—where even Cardina was letting loose—there was one man, like him, who always carried a glass, smiling gently as he looked around. He neither excluded himself nor actively joined in.

This man was the legendary sharpshooter of the premier league, the Cleveland Cavaliers’ most important midseason import: Pershinger Stojakovic.

Thus, when Henry Weir received the ball beyond the three-point arc, he passed to William Adams Miller, who was posting up the Houston Rockets’ big man in the mid-range.

Nazir Kobe Bryant, a 34-year-old veteran, had been playing in the top league since the 1998–99 season. From the start of his career, he had been a blue-collar enforcer in the paint. Now, as age caught up, his movements had become slow, and his role increasingly limited.

If this had been any other game, William Adams Miller would have needed just a step to shake off the aging blue-collar veteran and finish at the rim, basking in the praise of his teammates.

But today, when Miller actually turned and tried to break through, people were surprised to see that he—once able to dominate—couldn’t even blow by a 34-year-old slow-footed defender!

“So slow! Since when did Henry Weir become so sluggish?” Even Barkley was shocked. In the previous two games, Miller had mostly scored off the ball, rather than creating for himself. But tonight, when he tried to go one-on-one, his performance stunned the world—and not in a good way.

Yet, what pleased Miller was that the starting lineup change suggested by Su Feng in practice seemed to have caused no issues; it was almost “plug and play.” With the Cavaliers’ second unit led by Henry Weir Bryant, Peja and Terry would have more opportunities on the court.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Of course, as teams prepared for the playoffs, the sports networks were also getting ready.

Special playoff programs were now everywhere. Before the playoffs, TNT naturally gathered fans to discuss the state of things this year.

Barkley, Kenny Smith, and Henry Weir—these three playoff veterans—always drew people’s attention. The reason was simple: all three were sharp-tongued and quick-witted.

Miller was indeed a college manager with a passion for tactics, but few realized how he could inspire players emotionally.

A superstar like Henry Weir Bryant was, of course, immune to Miller’s three-tongued encouragement. Even if Miller didn’t say a word, Bryant knew exactly what to do in the playoffs. The legendary point guard turned to look at Su Feng, who was sitting beside him, curious how the young man would respond to Miller’s pep talk.

“For victory, coach!” Unexpectedly, Su Feng’s reply was still resolute.

In the Cavaliers’ player tunnel, Miller was fretting over Su Feng’s minutes. In the stands, Stevens, Hayward, and Wegner were equally anxious.

“The Cavaliers are in poor shape. If this continues, they won’t make it through the first half,” Stevens, not yet a top-tier coach, could already see that sometimes, last-minute leadership changes didn’t make the team better.

“I have no idea what that guy will do in the second half, but if I had to play twelve playoff minutes, I’d be so tired I couldn’t even keep my shot steady,” Hayward thought, sweat breaking out as he considered the prospect.

As for Wegner, as a top basketball player herself, she knew exactly what it felt like to play a full stretch. Her main concern wasn’t the Cavaliers’ victory or defeat, but Su Feng’s health. After all, she herself had been injured from playing too long and too hard. She didn’t want to see Su Feng’s promising career overshadowed by injuries.

“What’s the matter, Pershinger? Not planning on joining in?” Seeing Stojakovic standing apart, Su Feng took the initiative to approach the man who had helped him so much.

“No, I’m enjoying myself!” Seeing Su Feng approach, Peja raised his glass in greeting.

“Life after winning a championship is wild! I’m lucky to enjoy such an honor at the end of my career.” Pershinger smiled calmly, as if he’d let go of all his burdens.

“This won’t be our last championship, Pershinger.”

“It may not be the Cavaliers’ last, but it’s my last. You don’t know—I’ve decided to retire,” he said, his voice steady.

When Pershinger said this, Su Feng’s mind went completely blank.

“Retire? But you can still play, Pershinger!” Su Feng’s words tumbled out, like a child about to be separated from his parents.

Although Pershinger hadn’t been with the Cavaliers for long, the help he gave Su Feng and the team had made him one of them—a true Cavalier.

Su Feng couldn’t forget that night when Pershinger practiced shooting with him, nor could he forget those two home games against the Lakers in the Western Conference Finals, when Pershinger scored 15 and 21 points, or the six three-pointers he hit in Game Four of the semifinals—a spectacular pass, a crucial save, a deadly three, quick and precise shooting...

“You’re only thirty-four, Pershinger! We can win another title together and enjoy one more wild summer!” Persuading a player to play another year was usually a task for the front office, but Su Feng couldn’t help it. He couldn’t bear to part with someone like Pershinger or his mentor. He couldn’t imagine mornings without seeing Pershinger practicing shots with him...

The rookie Su Feng was still unaccustomed to the harsh reality of the premier league: no matter how great you are, there will always be farewells.

“To be a professional athlete is a blessing from God. I love and respect the game, but it’s time for me to go. I told myself long ago, if my body or health wasn’t at a hundred percent, I’d retire. Now, I finally reached my goal. I want to retire on my own terms. The time has come.” Pershinger was calmer than Su Feng, for he had no regrets about his career.

As one of the greatest forwards in history, Pershinger had played for five teams: the Kings, Pacers, Hornets, Raptors, and Cavaliers. He left his prime with his beloved Kings, making three All-Star teams and winning two three-point contests in eight seasons. With the Cavaliers last season, he finally won the championship he’d dreamed of, and then chose to retire.

Even the most romantic swordsman is no exception—after success, he quietly steps away from the applause.

Pershinger Stojakovic’s long-range artillery had finally fallen silent.

The championship roster of the Dallas Cavaliers was already undergoing dramatic changes.

“Come on. This league now belongs to the young.”

“Is that all? Shouldn’t you ask me which club president I know?” Miller patted his chest confidently. Every summer, players sought out club presidents to help them improve. As a club president with many players in his stable, Miller had extensive connections.

“Great. I hope to find a more well-rounded trainer so I can develop in all aspects!”

Henry Weir met Su Feng’s expectant gaze, waiting for the young man’s next request. But after a long pause, Su Feng said nothing more.

“That’s it?” Henry Weir spread his arms.

“Travel and training...” Su Feng thought for a moment, then nodded. “No, that’s all.”

“Damn, you’re really going to waste your vacation, kid. Well, since you only have those two requests, it’s easy enough to arrange. When does the trip start?” Henry Weir pulled out his Bluetooth keyboard and started updating his calendar.

“I’ll leave Dallas after Kobe Bryant’s birthday on June 19.”

“Travel starts June 21 and lasts until the end of July. Then what? Training right away?”

“Yes, begin training immediately!”

“Then, starting from late July or early August, I’ll bring in a private club president for the next round of training. In September, you’ll return home for the Asian Championship. From late September to mid-October?” Henry Weir looked up, seeking Su Feng’s approval.

“Keep training!” Su Feng answered without hesitation.

“You maniac. Did you forget you have a series of commercial engagements? From late September to mid-October, I’ll ensure your basic daily training, but your main task during that period is to launch various business activities. If possible, I’d even like to arrange a trip to China for you. I’ll discuss the details with Adidas!” Speaking of business, Henry Weir finally smiled. Basketball was Su Feng’s job; making money was Henry Weir’s expertise.

Su Feng, watching Henry Weir fill his calendar, nodded with satisfaction. At least this summer, he wouldn’t have to work at the convenience store again.

“One more thing—the current labor negotiations in the premier league are not looking optimistic. If there’s a lockout, we need to be prepared. Are you willing to accept contract offers from other international leagues?”

“What do you think?” In truth, Su Feng knew nothing about the possibility of a shutdown. Though this labor dispute directly affected him as a player, he had never paid much attention. This season, he had focused all his energy on the championship.

“If you want to make money, you have to go where the money is. If you’re willing, your country’s CBA will make you a great offer, and the European leagues are meaningful as well. But if you really want to improve, it’s best to stick with a private club president. For you, the lower leagues aren’t especially meaningful.” Henry Weir knew Su Feng was a player who cared about money—much like Jennings. Rookies coming out of the slums rarely refused the lure of money.

But Su Feng’s answer surprised him.

“If there’s a lockout, I’d rather train with a club president. Since you said other leagues won’t help my development much, there’s no need to go.” Su Feng waved his hand, as if there were no other options.

“If you don’t get paid, aren’t you worried?”

“With you around, I’m not afraid of losing money!” Su Feng laughed. For him, self-improvement now mattered more than temporary paychecks.

“You really are something else.” Henry Weir pressed return, finalizing the overall plan for Su Feng’s vacation.

If you’d asked Henry Weir before the draft who would be more successful—Jennings or Su Feng—he might not have had an answer.

But now, the ace manager would surely choose the latter.

After a summer, this sensational rookie would shock the league once more!

The next day, after finalizing the vacation plans with Miller, the busy manager hurriedly left Dallas. Though Su Feng and Wen Xue had both tried to persuade him to stay a few more days, the off-season was his busiest time, with multiple players under his care. So, the star agent politely declined and boarded his flight early.

But before leaving, Miller gave Su Feng a final piece of advice: “If the basketball association’s contract demands are too harsh, don’t hesitate to refuse!”

Henry Weir knew all too well that even when Kobe Bryant had joined the national team, the basketball association had imposed excessive demands, seizing fifty percent of his top league earnings.