Chapter 018 The Massacre (Part Two)

Duan Wei laughed. “You’re already handsome enough! Don’t make the rest of us feel worse.”

“It’s my first time being interviewed by the national television, so I want to look presentable,” Lin Feng replied with a shrug and a smile.

“All right, let’s get started.” Duan Wei gestured for Lin Feng to sit between him and Liu Nan, then turned to the camera with a formal air. “We’re honored to have Lin Feng with us at the commentary desk. My first question is something I’ve wanted to ask personally, and I’m sure it’s on the minds of all the fans watching. Your three-point shooting is unbelievably accurate—how did you train for that?”

“Talent combined with hard work, I suppose. Everyone knows my father used to be a basketball player too,” Lin Feng answered lightly.

“That’s right, Coach Lin was famous for his incredible three-point shot back in the day. Like father, like son!” Duan Wei exclaimed. “By the way, is Coach Lin here at the arena today?”

“He should be, but with so many people around, I have no idea where he is!” Lin Feng shrugged.

“Wherever he is, I’m sure you’re his pride right now,” Duan Wei continued. “Before the game, did you expect to hit so many threes in the first quarter? You broke so many records at once—how do you feel about that?”

“Can I tell the truth?” Lin Feng asked with an earnest expression.

“Uh…” Duan Wei was momentarily taken aback, recalling Lin Feng’s candid remarks at the last post-game press conference. Since this was a nationwide live broadcast, he was genuinely worried Lin Feng might say something too bold.

“Don’t worry, I don’t have the money to pay their fines!” Lin Feng grinned, noticing Duan Wei’s concern.

“Haha, all right, but I still have to remind you—this is live across the country,” Duan Wei said, half joking, half serious.

Lin Feng nodded, then adopted a serious tone. “Honestly, the reason I pushed myself so hard was to prove a point. Some people accused me of having no integrity, saying someone like me could never make it far on the court. Randall even claimed he’d keep my scoring under ten points, and others said last game was just dumb luck, that I hit a few threes by accident. My response to doubts and provocation is always to let my strength speak for itself! Whether on the court or any other battlefield, I’ll fight back with everything I’ve got! That’s why I played as I did in the first quarter.”

After finishing, Lin Feng added with a touch of humor, “Is it okay to air what I just said?”

“It’s already aired,” Duan Wei replied with a smile. Though Lin Feng’s words were pointed, there was nothing inappropriate about them.

“Coach Liu, do you have anything you want to ask Lin Feng?” Duan Wei turned to Liu Nan.

“What I’m most curious about now is whether Lin Feng will play in the second half,” Liu Nan said.

“That depends on Coach Shen’s decision, but personally, I’d love to play more. Only getting ten minutes in a game just isn’t satisfying,” Lin Feng replied, his eyes showing a hint of regret.

Liu Nan nodded. “I hope we’ll get to see more of your precise three-point shooting in the second half!”

“I hope so too,” Lin Feng said with a smile.

Duan Wei checked the time. “The second half is about to begin. Thank you, Lin Feng, for joining us, and good luck!”

“Thank you. Goodbye!”

Lin Feng bid them farewell and headed back to the locker room to change.

The second half began.

Jiangning sent in their bench squad again. With such a big lead, Shen Ziqiang naturally didn’t want to risk his starters—if anyone got injured now, it would be a real loss.

Meanwhile, Beicheng put all its starters on the floor, clearly making one last push. If they couldn’t cut the deficit to under twenty points by the end of the third quarter, the game would be out of reach.

The third quarter commenced.

Beicheng attacked relentlessly, ramping up their defense as well.

They soon went on a 10-0 run, narrowing the gap to forty points. On the sidelines, Wang Chunsheng finally managed a slight smile—the game was finally moving in the direction he’d hoped for.

Seeing this, Shen Ziqiang immediately brought Harris and Wu Xiaoxu—two of his main players—back on the court.

With their arrival, Jiangning stabilized. Harris scored inside and out, and the gap hovered around forty points.

At the end of the third quarter, the score was 119 to 80.

Jiangning still led by thirty-nine points!

Entering the final quarter with such a margin, Beicheng had no chance left—unless they had a miracle worker like Lin Feng.

But they didn’t.

The fourth quarter began.

Wang Chunsheng sent in his bench, signaling his surrender.

Jiangning did the same, turning the rest of the game into pure garbage time.

Even among the reserves, Jiangning dominated. With just a minute left, Beicheng called a timeout.

The score stood at 142 to 94.

Beicheng trailed by forty-eight points!

Wang Chunsheng, his face dark, berated his substitutes. The largest margin of defeat in CBA history was fifty-one points. His team had just set the record for the worst halftime deficit; naturally, he didn’t want to add the full-game record to his shame.

Otherwise, his name would be forever nailed to the wall of disgrace.

Given the way things were going, the deficit could easily balloon past fifty points if he let down his guard for a second.

Now, Wang Chunsheng’s only wish was for his team not to set another shameful record.

So he called the timeout and sent Randall and Chen Xi—his starters—back in.

“Huh? Why is Coach Wang putting Randall and Chen Xi back in? There’s really no reason at this point,” Duan Wei wondered.

“My guess is he’s worried about the score exceeding fifty-one,” Liu Nan said with a smile.

“That’s right, fifty-one points is the largest loss in CBA history. I’d forgotten that. Beicheng already set the biggest halftime deficit—they certainly don’t want to shoulder the full-game record as well!” Duan Wei realized.

As play was about to resume, Jiangning still had all reserves on the floor. Just then, nearly twenty thousand fans in the arena began chanting Lin Feng’s name in unison.

“Lin Feng! Lin Feng! Lin Feng!”

“Looks like the home fans really want to see Lin Feng again!”

“He’s only played less than a quarter all game—even I feel unsatisfied, let alone the fans. Plus, this is Jiangning’s last home game of the season. The next one’s game seven, and they’ll have to play in Beicheng. If I were Coach Shen, I’d consider sending Lin Feng out for a curtain call, a proper farewell to the fans.”

On Jiangning’s bench, Lin Feng had already changed into his warm-up shirt. Shen Ziqiang had told him he wouldn’t play again.

Neither Shen Ziqiang nor Lin Feng had expected the fans to be so enthusiastic—the chants only grew louder and more insistent, making it clear they wouldn’t stop until Lin Feng took the court.

Shen Ziqiang looked over at Lin Feng. “Want to go back in?”

“If the fans are asking, let’s do it,” Lin Feng replied, stripping off his warm-up shirt and standing up from the bench.

Instantly, the arena erupted.

“Lin Feng! Lin Feng! Lin Feng!”

“Lin Feng’s coming back in?” Wang Chunsheng was stunned as he saw the substitution. “Are they trying to crush us completely?”

With Lin Feng on the court, just a couple of threes could cement his place in the record books—and Wang Chunsheng’s in infamy.

The game continued.

Lin Feng’s presence electrified the home crowd—cheers and shouts swelling throughout the arena.

Jiangning’s ball. Lin Feng brought it up.

Randall stuck to him, desperate to salvage a shred of dignity in these final moments.

But Lin Feng showed no mercy—he sprinted across half court, then, two meters beyond the arc, launched a three-pointer right over Randall.

A familiar sight. A familiar trajectory.

With tens of thousands watching, the ball sailed cleanly through the hoop.

Net snapped.

Basket good.

A roar swept the arena.

The home fans erupted, chanting Lin Feng’s name once more.

145 to 94.

The very scenario Wang Chunsheng dreaded had come to pass—the deficit now tied the all-time record at 51 points.

With forty-nine seconds left, Wang Chunsheng could only pin his hopes on Randall, praying he would score.

Beicheng attacked. Randall and Chen Xi ran a standard pick-and-roll. Jiangning’s young defenders were a step late, and Randall scored two points.

As the ball dropped through the net, Wang Chunsheng pumped his fist, as if he’d just won the game.

But in truth, he was fighting against a record of disgrace.

145 to 96.

Beicheng trailed by forty-nine. Twenty-seven seconds remained.

Lin Feng brought the ball up, Randall still shadowing him. But Lin Feng didn’t rush—perhaps he intended to let the clock run out, given the lopsided score and the game nearly over.

The shot clock wound down.

Five, four, three…

Suddenly, Lin Feng leapt and launched a buzzer-beating three.

No suspense—the ball swished cleanly through the net.

The arena exploded once more.

One last supernova sounded across Jiangning Stadium.

148 to 96.

Three seconds left.

Beicheng inbounded, Randall hurried a shot—it missed everything.

Game over.

148 to 96.

Jiangning, at home, obliterated Beicheng by fifty-two points.