"Chen! Be honest with me. Do you sneak out every night to practice basketball?"
"Your progress is just unreal. That crossover almost sent Damian flying off the court!"
"Hahaha! Did you see Damian's face after the scrimmage? If I didn't know better, I'd say he just swallowed a pound of crap!"
After the team training session, Durant was still hyped. While slurping his instant noodles, he replayed every moment of Chen Yan's performance in his head.
"KD, chill. That's just basic stuff..." Chen Yan smiled.
"Chen, you're definitely gonna light it up in this year's March Madness!" Durant handed over the noodle pack. "Wanna try some?"
"Smells pretty good," Chen Yan sniffed.
"I'll pour you some. Hold out your hand."
It was the end of the school day. Groups of girls walked past, chatting and laughing, with the scent of fresh grass in the air and the sun shining down.
Chen Yan took in the beauty of the campus and let out a sigh—what a great day to be alive.
On the way back, he overheard a lot of chatter about Durant.
Everyone on campus—students, teachers, even janitors—was fired up about the upcoming March Madness. Every corner of the school buzzed with excitement. And as the top dog of the Texas Longhorns, Durant was naturally the center of attention.
Chen Yan, walking right beside him, felt like a ghost. But he believed—once March Madness officially began—everything would change.
Soon, the two returned to the dorm.
Chen Yan and Durant lived pretty well for college students: two bedrooms, a living room, a private bathroom, a kitchen, and even a balcony. That setup was considered luxurious on campus.
Splash!
As soon as they got back, Chen Yan headed straight for a shower. Durant, meanwhile, flipped open his laptop.
When he wasn't on the court, Durant's favorite pastime was surfing the web—especially checking out news and articles about himself.
"Chen, I feel like I've hit my ceiling," Durant called out just as Chen Yan stepped out of the bathroom.
"Huh? What do you mean?" Chen Yan wiped his hair with a towel.
"Look." Durant pointed at his screen. "Every draft board out there's got me going either first or second. Where do I even improve from here?"
Chen Yan gave him a look. This dude was clearly just showing off.
"Kevin, what's the first thing you'll do when you get your NBA paycheck?"
"I'll give most of it to my mom," Durant said, rubbing his chin.
Durant had been raised in a single-parent household. Money was always tight. His mom juggled two jobs just to keep him in school and on the court. Life had never been easy for them.
Chen Yan nodded, touched by Durant's words.
Just as he was getting sentimental, Durant grinned and added, "And then I'm buying a mountain of instant noodles—filling the whole room with it. Eat one, toss one. No hesitation!"
Chen Yan: "..."
No wonder people online used to say Durant was the richest goofball in the league. Now he understood.
---
As the days passed, March Madness drew closer.
The Texas Longhorns had finished the season with 25 wins and 10 losses. As the No. 4 seed in the South Division, their first game would be against the No. 13 seed, New Mexico State University.
The NCAA tournament was split into four regions: East, Midwest, South, and West.
Each region had 16 teams, seeded 1 through 16 based on performance. The format was simple:
1 plays 16.
2 plays 15.
3 plays 14... and so on.
Winners advance each round.
Get through three rounds? You're in the Sweet Sixteen.
Win one more? You're part of the Elite Eight.
Each region crowns a champion, and those four move on to the Final Four.
Win again, and you're in the championship game.
Every match was win or go home.
High stakes. Maximum hype.
That's the magic of March Madness.
---
March 18 — 7:30 PM
The night had finally arrived. Texas Longhorns vs. New Mexico State.
To keep things fair, the NCAA picked neutral courts for the tournament.
Tonight's battleground? The home of the Phoenix Suns—American West Arena.
The place normally held 19,000 fans. Tonight? Over 25,000 packed in.
Every seat was taken.
The crowd energy? Through the roof.
"Let's go, Longhorns!"
"Don't give them a single chance!"
"Come on, New Mexico State!"
"Bring that W back to Texas!"
The crowd was electric before tip-off. The air was thick with basketball fever.
Chen Yan felt the tension. The moment he stepped into the arena, the excitement hit him like a wave. His blood boiled.
He was ready.
Among the fans were several NBA stars watching courtside.
Suns players Steve Nash, Amar'e Stoudemire, and Grant Hill sat together, chatting and laughing.
Nobody was surprised. March Madness always drew celebrities and NBA players.
The three looked relaxed. For once, they weren't the ones grinding on this court. Tonight, they were just spectators.
"Amar'e, who you got winning this one?" Nash asked during warm-ups.
Stoudemire shrugged. "No clue, man. Don't even know these squads."
Amar'e clearly wasn't invested. If it weren't for an argument with his wife that got him kicked out of the house, he probably wouldn't even be there.
"What about you, Grant?" Nash turned to Hill.
Hill smiled. "Texas has the edge."
"Because they're a No. 4 seed?" Nash raised an eyebrow.
"No," Hill said. "Because they've got Kevin Durant."
Hearing that, Nash shifted his gaze to the tall, lean kid on the court.
He'd read a lot about Durant. And tonight, he was curious to see if the hype was real.
The NCAA didn't have the marketing machine the NBA did, but stars still rose from college. And Durant? He was already a frontrunner for this year's No. 1 draft pick.
All eyes were on him.
At this time, Chen Yan was shooting warm-ups next to Durant, quiet as a shadow. Nobody paid him any attention—just some random nobody.
After a while, the cheers from the crowd grew louder, rising by several decibels.
The entrance ceremony had begun.
"The atmosphere in college basketball... How's it even better than the NBA?"
Stoudemire couldn't help but sigh, feeling the electrifying energy around him.
Like Kobe Bryant, Garnett, and a few other big-name stars, Stoudemire never played college ball. He'd toured campuses, sure—but he never got the real NCAA experience.
"This is March Madness," Nash said, eyes focused on the young players walking onto the court one by one. His mind wandered back to the days when he'd played college ball himself.
After the pre-game ceremony, the entire Texas Longhorns squad huddled around head coach Rick Barnes.
The pre-game pep talk was a Texas tradition.
"Boys! After grinding all season, we've finally made it—the stage we've all dreamed of!" Rick Barnes bellowed. His voice cut through the noise.
"Keep your heads in the game! Don't get distracted by all the hype. Lock in—twelve points of focus! And enjoy your March Madness!"
"We fight for our families! We fight for the fans! We fight for the name on our chest!"
His voice lit a fire under every player. The team roared back.
"Let's win this game!"
"Send 'em packin'!"
"One, two, three—Texas Longhorns for the win!"
Everyone threw their hands into the center and shouted in unison.
Chen Yan followed along, shouting with the rest of the team. The game hadn't even started yet, but the energy in the arena and the team's spirit had already set his blood on fire.
After the rally, Chen Yan and the bench squad took their seats.
Even though his recent performance during practice had stunned the coaching staff, Rick Barnes still had him on the bench. At this stage of the tournament, no coach would risk shaking up the starting lineup. One wrong move could ruin the chemistry and rhythm the team had built all season.
All Chen Yan could do now was wait.
Beep!
The referee's whistle echoed through the arena. The game had officially begun.
Texas Longhorns Starting Lineup: DJ Augustin, Justin Mason, AJ Abrams, Kevin Durant, Damian James.
It was a small-ball lineup. Durant, playing small forward, was the tallest guy on the floor.
New Mexico State University Starting Lineup: Doug Brown, Noel Richardson, Branson, Sutton, Marcus Gill.
Unlike Texas, New Mexico State didn't have any NBA-level talent. They'd made it to March Madness strictly through hard-nosed team basketball.
On the jump, Texas got possession.
First offensive play—DJ Augustin brought it up and quickly dished it to Durant.
From the get-go, Texas ran their safest set: just hand the ball to Durant.
With a smooth dribble and a quick jab step, Durant pulled up right in Branson's face.
Swish!
The jumper was clean. Branson reacted half a beat too slow, barely contesting the shot.
On the return play, New Mexico State did something entirely different.
Noel Richardson curled around the top of the arc off a screen, caught the ball, and quickly passed to Sutton, who'd slipped to the free throw line. Sutton dumped it low to Marcus Gill in the paint, who banked it in off the glass—easy two.
They didn't have any standout scorers, but their team execution was sharp and unselfish.
Next Texas possession—DJ Augustin used a high pick-and-roll, drove inside, didn't like the look, then swung it back to Durant near the elbow.
Durant sized up his man. One jab, then a clean rise-up.
Swish!
Perfect rhythm. Smooth release. Nothing but net.
That made two clean mid-range jumpers in a row to start the game.
People were starting to think Durant was about to go nuclear—but they had no idea that would be his only field goals for the next ten minutes.
New Mexico State clearly did their homework. After those two buckets, they locked in on Durant with tight fronting and constant double-teams, cutting off any clean looks or entry passes.
On offense, State kept things fluid—whoever had an open shot took it.
It looked like they had no go-to guy, but in truth, every player on that squad could be a threat.
Ten minutes in, New Mexico State held a five-point lead.
DJ Augustin was struggling—1 for 4 from the field with just 2 points. Worse, he wasn't managing the offense well.
Durant had to fall back deep into the half court just to receive the ball.
That's exactly what New Mexico State wanted.
They baited Durant into taking it to the rim, then had their big man, Marcus Gill, step up to contest. They limited Durant's shooting and funneled him into help defense.
It was straight out of the 2004 Detroit Pistons playbook.
According to scouting reports, over 70% of Durant's offense came from mid and long-range jumpers. Shutting those down made him uncomfortable and forced him into low-percentage drives.
With his jumper sealed off, Durant had no choice but to draw contact and get to the line.
It was like watching someone force out points—slow, painful, and messy.
The Longhorns offense started looking clunky.
Coach Barnes kept rotating his guys in and out, but none of the bench players could stretch the floor or create space for Durant.
Five minutes left in the half—DJ Augustin finally drained his first three of the game.
Coach Barnes kept shuffling his lineup, bringing in Dexter Pittman and Martin Hill to help crash the boards and secure defensive rebounds.
On offense, though, Barnes still leaned on the Durant-Augustin combo to carry the load.
The score difference hovered around five points.
Then came a dead ball.
Barnes looked down the bench.
His eyes paused on Chen Yan.
But he didn't make the call.
Chen Yan hadn't proven himself in a real game yet. And in a knockout tournament like this, trust wasn't something that came easy.