Chapter 111: The Stardust No Longer Silent

The Cavaliers launched an attack, and LeBron was beginning to grow anxious. He still held the ball, driving forward, but this time he summoned every ounce of strength, forcefully pushing Ho Xinghui aside and charging all the way to the basket for a powerful dunk.

LeBron pounded his chest with a commanding presence, exuding a fierce confidence. Yet, Ho Xinghui couldn’t help but feel something odd about it—something that made him want to smile for reasons he couldn’t quite explain.

LeBron’s basket was spectacular and certainly uplifting for the morale of his team, but Cavaliers’ coach Mike Brown frowned from the sidelines. If LeBron played every possession with such intensity, his stamina wouldn’t hold up.

“LeBron, the Little Emperor. LeBron, the Little Emperor...” The crowd’s passion flared with that basket, and a large number of fans known as “Star Blacks” and “James Fans” erupted in cheers.

“What’s the big deal? It’s just a dunk,” a loud voice blared, grating like relentless noise to the ears of Ho’s supporter, Evra.

Evra looked down on them, convinced these James fans had never witnessed true, breathtaking dunks before. At the same time, he regretted not cheering when Ho Xinghui had scored earlier. The reason he held back was because Ho’s boasts seemed far-fetched and unlikely to be fulfilled. He feared his cheers would be mocked, leading to an awkward situation.

So, even though Ho’s performance had been impressive, Evra restrained himself from celebrating. But now, the James fans’ provocations had stoked his temper. He resolved that if Ho scored another beautiful basket, he would cheer wildly, regardless of the consequences.

Ho Xinghui did not disappoint. Right after LeBron’s dunk, Ho executed a flawless fadeaway jump shot, backed by a Jordan-esque post move that completely outmaneuvered LeBron.

The ball swished through the net.

6 to 11.

At that moment, countless fans felt that LeBron and Ho Xinghui’s jerseys should be swapped; otherwise, it just seemed incongruous.

“Big Brother, Big Brother, Super Star, Great Emperor!” An ear-splitting chant suddenly erupted, leaving Evra stunned—he could hardly believe his own voice was so loud.

Clearly, he had overestimated his own volume. The high decibels were due to many Star fans shouting in unison. Evra was not the only one cheering for Ho Xinghui; at this moment, countless fans shared the same sentiment and spontaneously chanted together.

However, their cheers were indeed louder than those of the James fans and Star Blacks, because they had been suppressing their excitement for so long, and their release was all the more intense.

Hearing his supporters’ cries, Ho Xinghui raised two fingers toward them, signaling that the score had reached eleven points—count carefully.

The fans responded with even greater enthusiasm; this was the player they truly admired.

TNT commentator Charles Barkley, sounding a bit sour, remarked, “This guy has restored his image in just three minutes. I think even if he doesn’t reach 82 points tonight, his fans won’t abandon him.”

“Charles, why are you so determined to say Big Brother won’t get 82 points?” Smith asked.

“Is that even a question?” Barkley replied.

“If you insist on that, then I’ll have to make a bet with you,” Smith said.

Smith’s words shocked Barkley and countless viewers. Since Barkley’s infamous cross-dressing incident, he had tried many times to lure Smith into betting with him, but Smith had always declined.

Yet now, in a seemingly hopeless wager, Smith was the one who proposed the bet. How could that not be surprising?

Seeing Smith’s confidence, Barkley was momentarily speechless and began to seriously reconsider the question: Was it really so difficult for Ho Xinghui to reach 82 points?

Given the scoring pace he had just displayed, it seemed not difficult at all.

Of course, the Cavaliers would never just let Ho run rampant like this all game.

But could they really contain him?

Barkley’s hesitation amused countless viewers, giving them yet another reason to tease him.

On the court, Mike Brown called a timeout and substituted Damon Jones in for Alexander.

Brown’s main realization was that the Clippers were offering them too many three-point opportunities, yet none of the five players on his team could reliably shoot from beyond the arc—it was a serious problem.

Bringing Damon Jones onto the floor would allow them to respond with three-pointers and also help attract defenders away from LeBron, creating more space.

Brown’s strategy was sound, but he misread Dunleavy’s intentions.

For Dunleavy, the outcome of this game was irrelevant. He was allowing the Cavaliers’ players to take three-point shots simply to speed up the game’s pace and increase offensive possessions, thereby giving Ho Xinghui a better chance to reach his goal.

For this unpredictable protégé, Dunleavy was truly worried sick.

If the league didn’t award him Coach of the Year this season, he wouldn’t accept it.

Play resumed. LeBron passed the ball to Jones.

Mobley watched Jones intently, as if using a Sharingan stare. Mobley could swear he wasn’t using any illusions.

Yet Jones seemed mesmerized, hesitating to shoot immediately.

Well, it was mostly because Jones was unaccustomed to receiving such favorable treatment. Still, he quickly adjusted and released a three-pointer.

With no defender near him, Jones’ three-point accuracy was high—the ball went in.

But the Clippers didn’t care. They quickly inbounded from the baseline. Ho Xinghui had already crossed half court, with only the most focused LeBron standing before him.

LeBron had made up his mind: he would not let Ho score any more points.

Ho planted his feet on the logo at center court. The front was wide open with many paths to drive through.

But he didn’t take any of those routes; such a score wouldn’t be impressive enough.

Instead, he suddenly leapt and took a shot.

“Oh my god, he’s shooting from the logo,” the crowd gasped.

That wasn’t all. After releasing the ball, Ho spun around, raised both hands high, and made a ‘14’ gesture with his fingers.

A real man should be this confident.

“MVP! MVP! 14! 14!” The deafening cheers confirmed that Ho’s showboating had succeeded.

At that moment, LeBron watched Ho’s back and felt a deep, growing apprehension.

He suddenly realized that his earlier thought of teaming up with Ho might have been premature.

In China, on CCTV—

“Oh wow, that shot... it’s good! Wow, truly amazing,” Zhang He, the commentator, said, glad he had spoken slowly enough to avoid accidentally saying “unreasonable.”

But for those familiar with him, it was clear what he meant. The moment he uttered “oh wow,” everyone understood his true sentiment.

Fans watching on television laughed uncontrollably at Zhang’s forced praise of Ho Xinghui’s performance.

They loved moments like these where Zhang was caught off guard and contradicted himself.

Of course, even more exciting than the beautiful shot itself was Ho’s apparent determination to reach 82 points.

So he wasn’t joking after all.

“The clown turns out to be me—I actually doubted Big Brother.”

“The clown is right beside me—no one around me believed in Big Brother.”

...

7,017,000.