Chapter 413: New Skill Unlocked, Chen Yan's Role
Ding.
As Chen Yan landed and jogged back on defense, the familiar system sound rang out.
He always perked up when it appeared. The system never brought bad news.
"Congratulations, Host, for comprehending the original skill: Buddha Crossing Move."
"Buddha Crossing Move, active skill. After activation, the Host's deception increases by 5 percent, the chance of reading a defender's center of gravity increases by 5 percent, and if the breakthrough succeeds using this skill, subsequent shooting percentage increases by 6 percent."
Chen Yan had almost forgotten the last time he unlocked an original skill. Even for the system, it was rare.
Tonight really was his night.
And the buff was ridiculous. Since the season started, he had used that move in almost every game, and almost every game he had fooled defenders with it.
A big reason was simple, too. His jumper was terrifying. When the shot is real, every fake becomes sharper, every hesitation becomes deadly.
…
Chicago answered.
Hinrich drove, kicked to Westbrook, and Yi stepped up to set a screen on Chen Yan. With Chen Yan momentarily clipped, Westbrook exploded straight down the lane and finished with a violent dunk.
At this stage, Westbrook was pure gasoline. He wanted to attack the rim every time the ball touched his hands, like the basket owed him money.
The United Center erupted.
"Wow," Barkley shouted. "Westbrook got into the paint and threw it down. That's all talent."
Kenny nodded. "Phoenix had a big breakdown there. The switch was late, and there was no help inside."
Barkley shrugged. "That's an old problem, but Phoenix isn't built on defense. D'Antoni wants offense. They'll give up 110, even 120, and just try to score more."
Kenny smiled. "Offense is the best defense, that's their whole mindset. They won a title playing that way. I'm curious how many teams try to copy it."
"The league still leans defense," Barkley replied. "One championship doesn't flip the whole NBA. If Phoenix wins 2 more and turns it into a dynasty, then people start rewriting their playbooks."
Barkley was right. A single ring did not change the league's foundation, especially when contenders already had their roster structures set.
But a young team like the Bulls was willing to experiment. Speed and stamina were their biggest weapons, and those were the raw ingredients for run and gun basketball.
…
While the booth talked, Phoenix was already flying the other way again.
Nash crossed half court in about 4 seconds. Chen Yan cut in from the wing, and as Westbrook tried to shadow him, Chen Yan snapped back out to the arc.
Nash swung it to him.
Westbrook closed hard.
Chen Yan took 1 dribble, froze the ball with a hanging fake, and lifted his eyes.
That little pre shake looked like the Buddha Pose again, and Westbrook had already been burned twice. This time, he refused to bite. He stayed down.
Third time's the charm, Westbrook told himself.
Of course, he had still fallen for it.
Because Chen Yan's goal was not a drive this time. It was the shot.
Westbrook did not close the gap.
So Chen Yan rose and drilled the 3.
Westbrook's vision went dark. How exactly was he supposed to guard this?
Chen Yan smiled at him. "I've been hoping you'd stop me at least once."
The tone was light, almost gentle.
Somehow, that hurt worse than any curse word.
About 30 seconds later, during a dead ball, Del Negro pulled Westbrook.
At this point it was no longer development. It was demolition.
Westbrook came off to a quiet building. There was not much applause. Bulls fans felt like he had ruined the start, since most of Chen Yan's early points had been scored on him.
A few minutes later, the crowd realized the ugly truth.
It did not matter who guarded Chen Yan.
He kept scoring anyway.
It was not that Westbrook was too bad.
It was that Chen Yan was too good.
…
The tempo climbed through the rest of the first quarter until the game felt like it was playing on fast forward.
After 12 minutes, it was 36 to 29.
In this era, plenty of teams finished a full game with 70 or 80 points. Phoenix and Chicago nearly hit that in a single quarter.
D'Antoni was the king of run and gun. Del Negro, with a young roster, was not exactly preaching slow grind defense either. Compared to old school coaches who worshiped post ups, both of them encouraged pace, early offense, and 3s.
Phoenix's secret had always been the same.
Transition and 3 point volume.
No team ran like Phoenix, and no team launched like Phoenix. Tonight, Chicago had stepped into Phoenix's rhythm and got pulled along.
Chen Yan was scorching.
He put up 21 points, 2 rebounds, 2 blocks, and 1 steal in the first quarter alone.
…
In the second quarter, D'Antoni went to the bench. Chen Yan, who had played almost the entire first, finally sat.
Phoenix's second unit struggled.
Ben Gordon led Chicago's response, and Phoenix's shooters could not find the rim. Azubuike and Grant Hill missed their early looks. Novak had the same old issue. Next to Chen Yan and Nash, he was a sniper. In the bench unit, he became a ghost, because he needed someone to create those clean catches for him.
DeAndre Jordan played with energy, grabbing 2 straight offensive rebounds, but the misses kept coming. His extra possessions turned into nothing.
Less than 3 minutes into the second quarter, the game was tied again.
Chen Yan checked in early by choice, for the team and for himself. He could feel the night was special, and more minutes meant more points.
He went right at Ben Gordon.
Gordon was Chicago's top scorer, but he was still a level below Chen Yan. After a few possessions, Gordon cooled off.
Chicago tried to double.
It barely mattered.
The pace was too high. There was no time to get set, no time to build the trap. In constant transition, double teams arrived late and broke down faster.
Chen Yan steadied the rhythm and turned it into Phoenix's kind of chaos. Chicago's young legs played harder, which only made them play faster, which only pulled them deeper into Phoenix's quicksand.
With 13 seconds left in the second quarter, Phoenix led 69 to 57, up 12.
Final possession.
Diaw inbounded. Chen Yan cut out near mid court and caught it clean.
One on one time.
Westbrook crowded him, reaching and leaning, not truly trying to steal, but trying to make the air heavy.
He had rested earlier. He had energy.
Chen Yan dribbled with his left, using spins and crossovers, using his body like a shield. Westbrook stayed glued.
Chen Yan faked a shot from a step beyond the arc.
Westbrook stayed down.
Not only stayed down, he pressed tighter.
The clock bled.
Chen Yan's dribble stalled, awkward for a beat, and with no clean angle left he twisted his shoulders to the right and launched a contorted push shot, barely a jumper and barely a prayer.
The halftime buzzer sounded while the ball was still in the air.
A lot of Bulls fans shook their heads. The shot looked impossible, no balance, no rhythm, no space.
But Chen Yan had a talent for turning impossible into routine.
Swish.
A buzzer beating 3.
A clean snap of the net, then the arena exploded.
Even the TNT booth did not jump straight to praising Chen Yan.
Kenny sighed first. "You can't ask Westbrook to do more than that."
Barkley agreed. "That's not on him. That's just ridiculous."
The first instinct was to comfort the rookie, which made the whole thing funnier, because everyone watching knew what had really happened.
Some fans at the United Center even applauded. Chicago had lived through years of watching Jordan do the impossible. Ordinary stars did not impress this building easily.
Chen Yan did.
By halftime, he already had 40 points, 3 rebounds, 2 assists, 2 steals.
The stat line said everything about his focus tonight.
He could do a little of everything. He could chase triple double looking numbers any night he wanted.
But that would hurt the team.
Phil Jackson's old cake theory existed for a reason. Everyone has a slice, everyone has a job. Rebounding, organizing, defense, scoring. When everyone gets their piece, the team becomes stable and dangerous.
Stats are not decoration in the NBA, they are paychecks. Players live off them, negotiate with them, protect them. If you start stealing someone else's slice, you create resentment, fast.
Chen Yan understood that.
His role in Phoenix was clear.
He was the scorer. The dagger. The one who absorbed shots and still kept them efficient.
He would make the right pass when it was there, but he would not chase assists. He would rebound in his area, but he would not dive into the paint to steal a big man's numbers. He wanted teammates hungry, not annoyed.
And honestly, he liked the role.
Only when the core pieces were missing, or when teammates were completely out of rhythm, would he switch into that everything mode and drag the game by himself.
.....
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