Chapter Two: Once More?

Frank Vogel, who coached the Indiana Pacers last season and led them to the Eastern Conference Finals two years in a row, parted ways with the team before this season began. Fortunately, a coach of his caliber was never going to lack suitors. This season, as the head coach of the Orlando Magic, Vogel found the burden on his shoulders even heavier as he looked at this young roster.

Two consecutive losses to start the season had already made it clear that this Magic team was missing too many ingredients needed to win. Now, on the road against the Eastern powerhouse Cleveland Cavaliers, with five and a half minutes left in the fourth quarter, they were still trailing by 21 points.

What frustrated Vogel even more was the front office’s decision in the second round of this year’s draft. The Magic’s pick wasn’t high, but it was still a precious chance to find a diamond in the rough. Vogel never imagined the management would squander that opportunity on a young forward from Asia—specifically, from China.

Poor team results and questionable decision-making from the higher-ups had left the former Coach of the Year feeling impatient. With the team on the verge of a third straight loss, Vogel decided to pull all his starters and sent out the third unit, led by the Chinese rookie, effectively announcing his surrender for this game.

And the rookie did not “disappoint” Vogel.

No sooner had he stepped onto the court, he was caught daydreaming while facing an offensive player.

“Michael!” Vogel finally lost his patience, roaring at the absent-minded Wu Rui on the court. He planted his hands on his hips, silently vowing to report this to the front office after the game. Such a player, Vogel believed, had no place on his team.

But in the very next moment, Vogel was caught off guard by what happened.

On the court, Cavaliers guard Iman Shumpert, standing beyond the arc on the wing, adjusted his shooting stance slightly before letting a three-pointer fly. After all, in front of him stood nothing but a clueless Asian rookie—practically a wide-open shot.

Yet just as the ball left Shumpert’s hands, his peripheral vision caught a sudden movement. The rookie, who had seemed frozen in place, suddenly burst into action, covering the ground with two long strides. Launching himself off one foot like a great bird, he spread his arms wide.

His palm swept toward the ball just as Shumpert released it.

A crisp smack echoed through the arena as the ball, destined for the hoop, was swatted out of bounds by Wu Rui’s outstretched hand.

Landing on the court, Wu Rui immediately lowered his head, staring intensely at his own legs as his heart pounded. He didn’t know why he was here, nor whether this was reality or a dream—but he knew one thing: he had truly jumped.

“After all these years, I… finally jumped?” His voice trembled as he gazed at his legs. “If this is a dream, it’s just too damn good.”

Years of paralysis had brought countless dreams of standing, but never one as real as this—never the sensation of truly leaping. In that instant, Wu Rui thought that even if he died the next second, it would be worth it.

A collective gasp swept through the Quicken Loans Arena crowd in Cleveland.

“Hey, that guy was at least five meters away from Iman! But he still blocked him!”

“You’re wrong, it was more like a hundred meters! I thought he was going to fall asleep out there, and then—boom! Massive block!”

The Cavaliers fans chattered in astonishment. Clearly, Wu Rui’s sprinting, soaring block had left them stunned.

But the surprises weren’t over. On the court, Wu Rui, fresh from his block, bounced up and down three times in place, each jump and landing powered by all his strength.

The referee’s whistle finally brought his excitement to a halt.

“That’s enough, rookie!” Shumpert, still fuming from the block, couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you trying to humiliate me?”

“I’ll tell you this—next possession, I’ll shoot from the same spot, right in your face!”

With that, Shumpert stalked over to whisper to the teammate preparing to inbound the ball, then set up again on the wing beyond the arc.

Richard Jefferson, the veteran tasked with inbounding, shook his head. They were up 96-75, leading by 21—was there really any need for this grudge match? But after so many years in the league, Jefferson understood: to get blocked by a rookie beyond the three-point line was a humiliation no NBA player could let slide.

“Kid, I hope you understand—this is the NBA.” Jefferson muttered, glancing at the spirited Wu Rui with a hint of pity. Hopefully, Shumpert’s lesson wouldn’t ruin this rookie’s future.

“Hey, you really mean you’ll shoot from the same spot?” Wu Rui walked over, speaking in his best English. “Are you serious?”

“Of course. I always keep my word,” Shumpert replied, still irritated. It was bad enough to get blocked, but did this kid have to jump around like that? Was he just showing off his youth?

“So, should I block you again, from the same place?” Wu Rui grinned, stepping back two paces. “What do you think—will this do?”

A murmur ran through the crowd at that.

“What’s this kid up to? Is he really giving Iman an open three?”

“Michael! Guard your man!” Vogel’s furious shout echoed again. He’d been reconsidering his judgment of Wu Rui, but here the rookie was, making the exact same mistake as before.

Wu Rui’s taunt had stoked Shumpert’s anger. He signaled to Jefferson, who passed him the ball.

“You’d better not regret this,” Shumpert spat, letting the three-pointer fly without even a dribble.

But as decisive as his shot was, the defender’s reaction was even faster.

A powerful hand clamped down on the ball at the apex of its rise, sending it flying out of bounds once more.