At noon, after a hearty meal for Kobe, the two exchanged stories about their summer vacations.
Kobe was intrigued by Su Feng's offensive move—faking a shot before spinning around to finish at the rim.
Su Feng recalled that this move had originally been Kobe's trademark, yet in this timeline, it was Su Feng who had taught it to him.
Interestingly, after their meal, Kobe also brought up the upcoming senior season.
Defending the title was certainly the goal, but to Su Feng, simply defending it didn't seem that difficult.
He knew that not many NBA teams were willing to take chances on high school prospects, especially guards.
That summer, Su Feng had already upgraded his "Sewer Brush Data Plan" to version 2.0.
So, while Kobe was still in high spirits after eating, Su Feng made his pitch—half casual, half strategic.
Kobe didn't object to Su Feng's suggestion.
Especially after Su Feng told him, "I think your organizational skills are far better than Magic Johnson's. If you were born a few years earlier, that nickname—'Magic'—would've definitely belonged to you," Kobe was completely won over.
Flattery like that is easy to brush off, but Su Feng backed it up with convincing logic and facts.
It's hard to say how often Su Feng twisted truth and fiction with his keyboard, but 17-year-old Kobe was still impressionable.
"Yes, this is the birthday gift I bought for you in Orlando."
Though Kobe had spent his 17th birthday at training camp, Su Feng knew better than to forget it—especially if he wanted to keep wearing those "A Cone" sneakers.
Kobe had always treated grudges with great seriousness.
In front of him appeared an Orlando Magic jersey signed by Shaquille O'Neal—purchased by Su Feng from a die-hard Magic fan for a steep price.
Originally, the fan had refused to part with the jersey out of loyalty to O'Neal, but Su Feng's irresistible offer made him give it up in euphoric defeat.
"Cool! I love Shaq!" Kobe was thrilled with the gift, unaware of how little "cool" Shaq might've felt about it back in Los Angeles.
"But Su, this gift is too valuable."
Signed jerseys from NBA superstars aren't just rare—they're collector's gold.
Kobe felt guilty, having only given Su Feng a pair of A Cone sneakers in return.
"We're friends. Friends shouldn't measure gifts by price. Didn't you sacrifice a lot to help me?" Su Feng said.
Kobe was touched. Their meeting the previous summer now felt like one of the most precious blessings of his high school career.
"Don't worry—as long as I'm around, the Penn State scoring crown is yours!" Kobe said, pounding his chest.
Watching Kobe, utterly won over by his charm, Su Feng felt that his plan to "fast-track high school" was already halfway done.
…
In the afternoon, Su Feng and Kobe returned to their "old spot" and played what felt like a hundred million games.
Although Su Feng still couldn't defeat Kobe, the dynamic had changed.
There were several rounds where Su Feng left Kobe doubting his own existence.
"What kind of defensive method is that?" Bryant asked, baffled by Su Feng's relentless guarding.
"I call it magnetic defense," Su Feng replied.
To Su Feng, this style of defending felt almost mystical. After all, defense is half talent, half tenacity.
"If your dribble were as strong as your defense, beating you would be nearly impossible," Bryant said with admiration.
"..."
Better not to bring up the dribble—Su Feng grew agitated every time it was mentioned.
Thanks to summer training with McGrady, under Frazer's guidance, McGrady picked up advanced dribble techniques easily. Su Feng could learn them too... but they didn't quite click when he tried to use them.
He knew the label "Dribbling the Sky" might need a system update—or an NBA breakthrough—to become his reality.
After a whole afternoon battling Kobe, Su Feng found a little more confidence in skipping college and heading straight to the NBA.
"Six wins and 38 losses. Hmm... I can barely keep up with Kobe Bryant now," he reflected.
Su Feng understood their styles differed vastly. Chasing one-on-one wins wouldn't serve him well.
Besides, making the NBA isn't just about beating people one-on-one.
Su Feng was already prepping for his pro career.
It's well known that most high school and freshman players end up riding the bench—"guarding the water dispenser," as they say—because they dominated in school but didn't adjust.
But does the NBA really need that many superstars?
Obviously not.
Su Feng wanted to pad his stats—because at every level, scoring is the number one metric scouts pay attention to.
He knew what would truly impress teams: efficient play without monopolizing the ball, and elite defense.
Every NBA team in that era valued strong defenders.
If even one team dared to bet on him, Su Feng believed he'd adapt faster to the league than Kobe or McGrady—unless, of course, the coach turned out to be a contrarian genius like Larry Brown, who famously benched rookies.
In pursuit of his goal, Su Feng didn't mind playing the "Ariza" role for a while.
After all, toppling a dynasty takes time—and you have to gather resources before a revolution.
Ultimately, with his "Speed Through High School and Enter the NBA as a Role Player" strategy in place, Su Feng felt like he had completed the [Talent Road] mission—with a 90% chance of success.
…
"It's strange." At the NBA headquarters on Fifth Avenue, New York—inside the Olympic Building—Commissioner David Stern had been feeling troubled for days.
"Mark, are you sure that China received the videotapes and materials we sent?" Stern asked, looking directly at Mark.
Mark nodded. "They should have received them... but why haven't they responded?"
"Hmm..." Stern felt dizzy.
Is this about me?
According to Stern's plan, Su Feng should already be stirring some buzz...
Although Su Feng was only 17 and not NBA-ready for another couple of years, Stern saw those years as time to lay important groundwork.
After providing Datianchao TV free coverage of the All-Star Game and Finals for two consecutive seasons, the enthusiastic feedback from China had filled Stern with optimism about tapping into the Chinese market.
Introducing a Chinese player to the NBA now, Stern believed, would accelerate full broadcast deals—it would only be a matter of time.
Initially, Stern had modest hopes for Su Feng.
But after Su Feng's breakout in the high school basketball league last season—and with his association with Kobe boosting his visibility—Stern now viewed him as the prime candidate.
Compared to Hu Weidong, nicknamed the "Chinese Jordan," who was still far off, Su Feng—right under Stern's nose—was the more strategic pick.
"Forget it, we won't wait any longer..." Stern finally decided.
"David, what should we do next? Should we get media involved to promote it?" Mark asked.
"No, we only need to give subtle hints." In the NBA, no one outmaneuvered Stern when it came to strategy.
He knew that prematurely hyping Su Feng could backfire.
"After the meeting, let the team owners quietly mention that we're preparing to collaborate with China in an all-encompassing way. But don't specify a timeline."
"Oh—and tell them that there's a talented high schooler in Philadelphia from China. As for his actual skill level... they'll have to judge for themselves," Stern added.
"I understand, David," Mark said.
In his office, Stern rubbed his forehead as Mark left.
Still...
Why is there no response from China?
They definitely received the footage from the Pennsylvania High School Basketball Finals...
What Stern didn't realize was—China had responded. He just hadn't heard about it.
After the NBA sent its tapes and press materials, Datianchao TV promptly forwarded them to the Chinese Basketball Association.
And upon receiving them... confusion erupted.
Who is this Su Feng?
There was no record of him in their system.
Was this some fake hype cooked up by the Americans?
But upon watching the footage and reading the reports, became clear: they weren't fabricated.
Even so, the Basketball Association couldn't determine from just the footage whether Su Feng had NBA-level potential.
And the NBA... that's the same league Jordan played in, right?
Don't be surprised—back in the 1990s, international sports communication was still fragmented.
So whether Su Feng really existed, and whether he was as talented as claimed, the Basketball Association wasn't ready to make a verdict.
Since the 1992 Dream Team's dominance in Barcelona, the NBA had held near-mythic status.
After airing the NBA All-Star Game and Finals the past two years, Chinese fans found their entire worldview changed.
The Basketball Association felt the same way.
So, amid the uncertainty—and in the first year of the Chinese Basketball Association's new CBA league—they shelved the matter.
But while the Association paused, others saw Su Feng's emergence as an open door to something transformative.
And so, after lengthy approvals, just as Stern was growing impatient, a scouting team was dispatched to Philadelphia.
Formed by CCTV basketball consultant Xu Jicheng, China Sports Daily reporter Su Junyang, and former national team player Zhang Weiping, their mission was simple:
Collect every possible report and piece of footage about Su Feng.
Using Hu Weidong as a benchmark, they would evaluate Su Feng's true basketball level and determine if the American press was simply blowing smoke.