NBA: Northeast China's spectacular dunks sweep the entire league.

"I'll go play against the Lakers."

Lin Hao stared at the message five times. He put his phone face down on the table, and Zhao Dabao peeked over from the next bed: "What's wrong? Who sent this?"

"Nobody's here." Lin Hao turned off the lights.

In the darkness, his eyes were open. Tomorrow they play the Lakers. The F4—O'Neal, Kobe, Malone, and Cassell. Four All-Stars, two all-time greats. This is a preseason game, but nobody's treating it like one. The entire Lakers team arrived in Oakland a day early for closed training and no interviews. Kobe didn't speak, O'Neal didn't speak, and Cassell didn't speak. An unnatural silence.

Zhao Dabao muttered in the darkness, "Haozi, be careful tomorrow. That guy in Kassel plays dirty."

Lin Hao rolled over. Dirty? Just fix it.

Oracle Arena. Preseason game, but packed. People in the Bay Area wanted to see F4, but even more so, they wanted to see Lin Hao play against F4. Outside the arena, someone was selling canned yellow peaches for five dollars a can, each with a picture of Lin Hao on it. Zhao Dabao bought two cases, but was stopped by security when he tried to carry them into the arena.

"Sir, what is this?"

"The miracle drug of Northeast China." Zhao Dabao said with a serious face, "Lin Hao's winning buff must be present in every game."

The security guard looked at the canned goods, then at Zhao Dabao, and let them through.

In the locker room, Lin Hao was wrapping his ankle. Payton walked over, toothpick in his mouth, and leaned against the locker.

"Kid, I'm going to be matched up against Kobe today."

Lin Hao looked up: "Where's Kassel?"

"Kassel's yours." Payton took the toothpick out of his mouth. "That old guy's fast, but not physically strong. Stick close to him and don't let him get going."

Lin Hao nodded. Payton glanced at him and added, "Also, don't trash talk him. That guy in Kassel, the more you talk to him, the more motivated he gets."

Lin Hao tightened the last loop of his ankle brace: "Uncle Gary, I won't talk trash. I'll shoot."

Payton paused for a moment, then laughed.

Old Nelson pushed open the door and came in, a cigar dangling from his lips. He stood in the middle of the locker room and glanced at everyone.

"Starting lineup—Lin Hao, Richardson, Van Exel, Murphy, Dampier. Lakers' F4, all in. O'Neal, Malone, Kobe, Cassell, and who the last one is doesn't matter."

He moved the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other: "Fight them, don't be afraid. The four of them combined are older than your whole team. Run, run them out of their lives."

In the player tunnel, Lin Hao heard cheers outside. It wasn't the preseason noise, it was the playoff noise. As he walked out of the tunnel, he saw the Lakers' side—O'Neal was at the front, a mountain of flesh weighing over 300 pounds; Kobe followed behind, expressionless; Malone walked beside Kobe, his arms thicker than Lin Hao's thighs; Cassell was at the back, chewing gum, his eyes like a snake.

The Four Giants. An Era.

Lin Hao looked at them, feeling nothing. It wasn't disrespect, it was that he didn't have time for it. Today he was playing against Cassell—a three-time All-Star, championship-winning point guard with a pinpoint mid-range shot and fierce defense. Payton was right, Cassell played dirty. Not the kind of dirty play where you trip someone, but the kind where "you catch the ball and I pull your arm, you drive and I bump your back." The kind of dirty play the referees don't call.

During warm-up, Cassell walked over to Lin Hao and stood there without saying a word. Lin Hao shot a three-pointer, "swish." Cassell didn't move. Lin Hao caught the ball and shot another one, "swish." Cassell still didn't move. When Lin Hao shot his third, Cassell suddenly reached out and intercepted the ball.

"Kid, warming up isn't your training ground." Cassell tossed the ball to the referee and turned to leave.

Lin Hao watched his retreating figure. This old bastard was here to intimidate him.

The referee blows the whistle. Jump ball. O'Neal and Dampier. Dampier wins the jump—not because he jumped higher, but because O'Neal didn't. The ball is passed to Lin Hao, who catches it, and Cassell closes in.

His hand rested on Lin Hao's waist, his knee pressed against Lin Hao's leg. This was the kind of defense Payton had described—not to stop you from shooting, but to make you uncomfortable. Lin Hao dribbled one step, and Cassell followed. He dribbled another step, and Cassell was still in front of him. Cassell wasn't fast, but his anticipation was accurate. Every time Lin Hao changed direction, he could anticipate and block his position half a step ahead.

Lin Hao called for a screen. Dampier moved up, and Cassell was screened. Lin Hao used the screen to break through, and O'Neal switched to defend. O'Neal stood near the free-throw line, arms outstretched, like a wall. Lin Hao didn't force a shot, but passed the ball to Dampier who was cutting to the basket. Dampier received the ball, and Malone helped defend. Dampier didn't shoot, but passed to Murphy in the corner. Murphy received the ball, and Kobe rushed over, not to help defend, but to kill. Kobe's hand slapped directly onto the ball, Murphy lost his grip, and the ball went out of bounds.

Lakers have possession of the ball.

In the first possession, the seven-second offense was completely dismantled. Lin Hao retreated on defense, and Cassell dribbled the ball over. Cassell wasn't in a hurry, waiting for everyone to get into position. O'Neal called for the ball in the low post, and Cassell lobbed it in. O'Neal received the ball, and Dampier guarded him. O'Neal took a step, turned, and knocked Dampier aside. He dunked with both hands.

"Clang!"

2-0. Oracle Arena fell silent for a moment. A mountain of flesh weighing over 300 pounds hung on the rim, causing the basket to sway three times.

Warriors attack. Lin Hao receives the ball, and Cassell closes in again. This time, Lin Hao doesn't call a screen, but accelerates directly. Cassell can't catch up and reaches out to pull him back. The referee doesn't call a foul. Lin Hao stumbles slightly, regains his balance, and rushes to the three-point line. Kobe helps defend, Lin Hao crosses over Kobe, and drives to the basket. O'Neal helps defend, Lin Hao jumps, and in mid-air, passes the ball under O'Neal's arm to Dampier under the basket. Dampier receives the ball, and Malone fouls. Dampier goes to the free-throw line and makes one of two.

1:2.

Lakers on offense. Cassell dribbles past half-court, Malone calls for the ball in the low post. Cassell lobs the ball in, Malone receives it, Murphy guards him. Malone dribbles once, turns, and uses his elbow to clear a path. Murphy is pushed aside, Malone scores a layup.

4:1.

As Malone retreated on defense, he passed Lin Hao and said, "Welcome to the NBA." Lin Hao ignored him and received the ball on the baseline. Cassell closed in again, this time even tighter. Lin Hao dribbled a couple of steps, found no space, and called for a screen. Dampier moved up, and Cassell was screened. Lin Hao used the screen to break through, and O'Neal switched to defend him. Facing O'Neal, Lin Hao didn't pass and jumped directly. O'Neal lunged at him, and Lin Hao leaned back in mid-air and shot.

"Whoosh."

4-4. Oracle Arena erupted. Not because he scored, but because he scored over O'Neal.

Cassell dribbled over and glanced at Lin Hao. His gaze wasn't angry, but scrutinizing. He was reassessing the young man before him. Cassell passed the ball to Kobe, who caught it and was closely guarded by Payton. Kobe took a step, then fadeaway jumper. Payton pounced, and the ball went in.

6:4.

Kobe landed, glanced at Payton, and said nothing. Payton also remained silent. These two veterans didn't need trash talk.

Six minutes into the first quarter, the score was 18-16, with the Warriors trailing by 2 points. Lin Hao had 4 points and 2 assists, shooting 2-for-3. Cassell had 6 points and 1 assist, shooting 3-for-3. Cassell's mid-range shot was incredibly consistent; it wasn't a fancy shot, but the kind where "even if you guard me right in the face, I can still make it." Lin Hao guarded him for six minutes, and he took three shots, making all three.

Don Nelson called a timeout. He called Lin Hao over: "Don't tackle Cassell too aggressively on his mid-range jumper. He'll fade away, you can't reach him. Give him a step, let him shoot. If he makes it, that's fine. But don't let him drive. If he drives in and passes, O'Neal and Malone will have an even harder time guarding him."

Lin Hao nodded.

After the timeout, Cassell dribbled over. Lin Hao stepped back, letting him shoot. Cassell glanced at the basket, didn't shoot, and called for a screen. Malone moved up, and Lin Hao and Murphy switched defense. Facing Murphy, Cassell accelerated, stopped abruptly, and took a mid-range shot.

"Whoosh."

20 to 16. Kassel raised three fingers and pointed to the sky. This wasn't a celebration, it was a custom.

Warriors attack. Lin Hao receives the ball, and Cassell closes in again. This time, Lin Hao doesn't call a screen and pulls up for a jump shot. Cassell lunges in, but the ball is already out of play.

"Whoosh."

20:18.

Kassel glanced at Lin Hao. This time, his gaze changed. It wasn't scrutiny, but seriousness.

第一节结束，24比22，勇士落后2分。林昊8分3助攻，投篮5中4。卡塞尔8分2助攻，投篮4中4。

In the second quarter, Don Nelson substituted Lin Hao for Arenas in charge of the ball. Lin Hao sat on the bench, a towel draped around his neck, watching the game intently. The Lakers' bench wasn't strong, but Kobe and Shaq were still there. Arenas was having a tough time against Cassell's defense—Cassell was too strong; Arenas couldn't penetrate, and his shots were contested. The score gradually widened. 32-26, 34-26, 36-26.

Old Nelson glanced at Lin Hao. Lin Hao took off the towel.

"superior."