Chapter Fifty-One: More Places to Train

"Shit."

In the locker room, Xinghui He kicked the wardrobe in frustration.

On December 27, the Clippers suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of the Kings, and Xinghui He had a poor performance, scoring only nine points—the first time his points failed to reach double digits.

His matchup for the night was fellow rookie Francisco Garcia, a defensive specialist known for his tough defense but weak offense.

Throughout the game, Garcia was locked onto He, and He managed only three baskets out of nine attempts for nine points, while Garcia fared even worse—just one out of seven, and with ten free throws sinking seven, scraped together ten points.

Yet Garcia had delivered exactly what fans expected from him, while He fell far short.

“Calm down, Xinghui. Everyone has an off night or two. Even Jordan had games when he didn’t score in double figures,” Cassell said, giving He a reassuring pat on the shoulder. As a veteran, he had long since learned to take wins, losses, and stats in stride.

“If you had to kick the locker every time you lost a game, the team would go bankrupt,” he added.

“Uh… well, you’re right,” He admitted.

In truth, what frustrated Xinghui He the most was that he hadn’t earned much Rage Value from this game.

And the reason was simple: Garcia primarily spoke Spanish and could only manage basic conversations in English.

If He spoke a little fast, Garcia couldn’t understand him at all, rendering all his trash talk useless.

It was a bug in the system, and there was nothing He could do about it.

He certainly wasn’t about to learn a whole new language just to get under Garcia’s skin; he wasn’t that industrious.

One hundred and thirty-five Rage Points—far too little for someone as fond of splurging on flashy system items as Xinghui He.

Xinghui He: Height 1.97m, wingspan 2.10m, weight 84kg.
Talent: Strength C, Speed C, Vertical C.
Shooting: Three-point A, Midrange C, Attacking the rim C.
Skills: Ball-handling C, Passing C, Stealing C.
Defense: On-ball B, Help Defense C.
Remaining Rage Points: 745.
Overall Assessment: A superstar in the NACC, a potential role player in the NBA with one prominent skill and some tactical utility.
Kind Reminder: Please do not over-rely on the system; focus on training.

The next day, Xinghui He first joined the team for tactical practice, then returned home for an extra strength session.

After a few games, he had gained a better understanding of this unusually simple system.

He had realized that even with the system, regular training was indispensable.

Because the system only boosted his paper attributes—He still had to train in order to master how to use these abilities in a real game.

To use an analogy: a mage may have high spell damage, but that doesn’t mean he’ll win a duel. Skillful operation is just as important.

Only if you hit the opponent does your damage actually reduce their health.

When uncontested, He’s three-point shooting was A-level, with a hit rate as high as 75-80%.

But if someone was guarding him, that rate would drop depending on the level of interference.

If Barkley was sitting on top of him, or if he had O’Neal on his back, his actual hit rate would be zero.

In that kind of situation, there was no way he could sink the shot.

When He first burst onto the scene, coaches around the league didn’t know him well and hadn’t devised targeted strategies, so he could put up good numbers even with average abilities.

But as he got hotter, more and more people started studying him.

There are analysts in the league who can break down a player’s shot chart and even determine whether he prefers to drive left or right—all down to the smallest detail, let alone He’s strengths.

In the game against the Kings, Garcia simply guarded his three-point shot and let him try to drive.

Since He didn’t use any special items, Coach Adelman’s gamble paid off.

He’s layup efficiency after driving was poor; his nine points all came from open looks created by teammates.

In short, because Xinghui He’s rise was so meteoric, he hit his rookie wall that much sooner.

It was not a situation he relished, so he had to redouble his training to quickly master the abilities the system didn’t provide.

Among these, strength was especially crucial, so most of his extra sessions focused on that.

In He’s mansion, a young woman in tight sportswear stood beside him.

“Next set, twenty reps,” said Elena.

Mark had gone to great lengths to find He a personal trainer—most in the business were men, and it wasn’t easy to find an attractive woman.

But Mark didn’t dare let He stay alone in a room with a man showing off his pecs, so he made a special effort to find a woman.

“Why is it twenty again, Elena? Are you sure you’re not lying to me? My mom always said that pretty women are the best at lying,” He joked.

Training was hard, and without a little playful banter, the time would crawl by.

“If you can’t focus, add twenty vertical pulls,” Elena said sternly.

“I’m curious—are you this domineering in every aspect?” He teased.

“Twenty more squats,” Elena replied coolly.

After forty weighted squats behind the neck, He was panting heavily. “Basketball is all about irregular bursts of strength and training multiple muscle groups. See, there’s still one muscle I haven’t worked out.”

“I know, but I haven’t missed a single muscle group,” Elena said, flipping through her training notes, where every exercise was checked off in red.

“There is one,” He insisted.

“Where?” she asked.

“Right there…” He winked, too bashful to say aloud which “place” he meant.

“Where is ‘there’? Oh, I get it. Wait just a moment,” Elena said, turning away.

He was delighted. He wondered if he should shower before or after.

Before long, Elena returned with a rope and a metal weight with a hole in it.

“If you hang this every day, you can increase the hardness and even the length of ‘there,’” Elena said, her expression unreadable. He was left speechless.

He took the iron weight—good lord, it must have weighed five or six pounds.

To train “there” with this contraption… only Elena would come up with something so brutal.

“This thing is too light,” He scoffed, tossing it aside.

“Oh? Then I’ll fetch a heavier one,” Elena replied.

“No, no, thank you. I’ll take care of it myself,” He said hastily.

At the same time, he realized an immutable truth:

No matter how rich, handsome, or witty you are, there will always be women in the world who simply don’t like you.

There was nothing for it but to keep working on his muscles.

Pathetic, Elena scoffed inwardly.

If He weren’t so famous or didn’t pay so well, she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. In the past, she’d dealt with plenty of clients just like him.