"Pa pa, I haven't played in so long. I wonder if I can still do it..." Jiang Hai muttered softly, dribbling the basketball on the court floor. Then, his expression sharpened as he fixed his gaze firmly on the basket at the far end.
Ever since Feng Yunchen spoke with him that night, Jiang Hai had made a decision. The next morning, when he sent Taraga to school, he told the vice principal he would participate and that he could be considered a local of Winthrop.
Hearing Jiang Hai's confirmation, the vice principal was ecstatic. This time, three people from Winthrop would be participating in the charity game—Jiang Hai and two players from the school team. With Jiang Hai on board, the vice principal finally felt relieved.
The following days kept Jiang Hai busy at the vineyard. By yesterday, the harvest was complete. They had gathered all the grapes they needed, leaving about two acres to be used later for ice wine, once the frost passed. After a good night's rest, Galina took Taraga to school in the morning. Jiang Hai had breakfast, took a short walk, and then headed to his warehouse—converted into a basketball court.
Although it hadn't been used much, the place was still well-maintained. After opening the doors to let the air settle, Jiang Hai fetched some water and mopped the court clean. He then pumped up a basketball, changed into sportswear, and laced up his shoes.
On his feet were his beloved LeBron James 10s. Jiang Hai had always been a sneaker enthusiast. Some pairs were just for casual wear—like the "Galaxy Spray," the "Foamposite One," or the Joe 28—while others he actually played in.
Of course, Jiang Hai only bought authentic sneakers, but the prices could be steep. His most expensive pair was the Nike Air Mag, which set him back nearly $5,000. Another was the "Foamposite One Galaxy," which he'd bought directly from Nike's official store for around $2,000.
Still, sneakers in the U.S. were far cheaper than in China. For example, the latest Kobe and LeBron releases usually sold for around $180 at launch. The LeBron 10, KD 5, and Kobe 7 all debuted at that price, while the Kobe 8 and LeBron 11 came in at $200. The Kobe 9 high-top was the priciest at $225. Even Jordan's Air Jordan XXVIII, the most expensive practical model, cost $250—still at least 20% cheaper than in China.
So after coming here, Jiang Hai finally indulged his old sneaker dreams, collecting quite a few pairs. But when it came to actual play, he still preferred the LeBron series. With his wide feet, they were incredibly comfortable, and the Air Max technology was his favorite.
After stretching and warming up, Jiang Hai took a deep breath, dribbled hard a few times, and charged toward the basket. The last time he played seriously was back when he only had his basic abilities. Even then, his talent was undeniable—dunking from the three-point line and hitting shots with near-perfect accuracy. That was why recruiters in Boston had once tried to sign him after his physical test.
But Jiang Hai hadn't been tempted. Was he crazy? Why would he join the NBA? The best players might earn tens of millions a year, but Jiang Hai made far more than that in a single year—more than most players would see in their entire careers, even including endorsements. Signing with them would have been pointless. He wasn't short of money or brains. Why struggle for a living with them?
And if he were offered the chance again, he would still turn it down.
But today was different. Today was for testing himself. As he crossed the free-throw line, Jiang Hai gathered the ball, launched himself upward—and instantly realized his mistake.
He had jumped too high. With a bang, the rim was suddenly at his waist while he continued to rise. This was with only 70% of his strength. By the time he realized, his feet were nearly level with the top of the backboard. On instinct, he stepped on it, crouched, and landed again, stunned by his own power.
"At full strength, I can jump almost four meters? No… at least four and a half. Damn, I'm getting less and less human," Jiang Hai muttered, staring down at the backboard beneath him. This was exactly why he couldn't play in the NBA. His abilities were too abnormal. What if the government discovered him and wanted to dissect him?
He experimented further—50% strength from the free-throw line sent him soaring above the backboard. At 30%, his hips cleared the rim. At 15%, his chin was level with it. From the three-point line, 20% was enough to dunk. At the basket, just 5–10% did the trick.
By the time he finished testing his limits, the afternoon had nearly passed. He finally sighed in relief. His power was indeed too overwhelming for basketball. His decision to avoid the sport professionally had been the right one.
After lunch, he returned for more practice. This time, he worked on dribbling and shooting. To his surprise, despite his increased strength, his shooting accuracy hadn't dropped—it had improved. Back then, he had been nearly 100% accurate in half-court shots. Now, even from full court, he never missed. If the rules allowed, he could sink shots from the baseline.
Even more incredible was his versatility. In the past, he had to maintain a proper shooting form for accuracy. Now, it didn't matter. He could toss the ball casually, or even kick it toward the basket—it would go in every time.
"This is too broken..." Jiang Hai muttered, shaking his head. What would others think if they saw this? He didn't even want to play anymore. It was like using a cheat in a video game—fun at first, but boring once you became invincible.
After fooling around for a while, Jiang Hai returned home, determined to simply play smart in the upcoming charity match—make a show of it, then leave cleanly.
"Why are you back so early? Weren't you supposed to practice basketball?" Qi Jie asked curiously when she saw him come home before three. She had been busy juggling grape picking with helping Taraga keep up with her schoolwork. Thankfully, American elementary and middle schools weren't too strict, so Taraga wasn't falling too far behind. Even so, Qi Jie—being the most educated of them—naturally took charge of tutoring her. Darlene and Marianne, after just a month of study, already felt dizzy whenever they opened a book. Jiang Hai could only sigh. Though they were technically his daughters, they were just like him—bright enough, but hopeless when it came to studying. Even the sight of a textbook gave him a headache.
"Hey, basketball is too easy. Just watch me dominate," Jiang Hai boasted, sitting down with a smug grin.
"Bah, shameless! Whose husband are you?" Qi Jie shot back, wrinkling her nose. "Don't think I don't know. Basketball may be easy to pick up, but being good is another matter. You've got the physique, sure, but don't think you can crush pros. I heard from Taraga that some real professional players are coming this time."
Jiang Hai only smiled. No matter who came, it wouldn't matter. With the abilities he had just displayed, no one could touch him.
"You'll see soon enough. Just watch me soar into the sky and stand shoulder to shoulder with the sun," he said proudly. But before he could boast further, someone tapped him on the shoulder.
Turning around, he found Qi Ya holding up a camera.
"No matter how high you fly, you'd better go get me some pork. I'm making sweet and sour pork tonight," she said matter-of-factly.
At those words, Jiang Hai instantly leapt off the sofa. Sweet and sour pork was his favorite.
"Wait for me—I'll be right back!"
(To be continued)