Chapter Thirty-One: Do You Want to Win?

“Coach Frank Vogel has finally run out of patience. The Magic have found their rhythm on offense, but their defensive issues remain unresolved. They need to start with their defense!” The courtside commentator was quick to weigh in as he spotted Magic players preparing to check in.

Now that Orlando was in the role of the pursuer, it made sense for them to try to break the strange equilibrium on the court. Since the current lineup wasn’t working, Vogel had no choice but to make adjustments!

However, it wasn’t just the Orlando Magic making substitutions. On the Bulls’ side, Coach Fred Hoiberg also called two players from the bench—Jimmy Butler and Robin Lopez!

“The Bulls are making substitutions too—Jimmy is coming back!” The commentator, seeing the leading team making moves, could no longer remain calm. “Coach Fred Hoiberg is sending in two starters at once, not giving the opponent any chance to change the momentum!”

The commentator’s words proved true. With Jimmy Butler and Robin Lopez re-entering the game, Rajon Rondo and Dwyane Wade still brimming with energy, and Nikola Mirotic providing outside shooting, the Bulls’ offensive firepower was more overwhelming than ever.

The Magic, despite trying to adapt, were completely overpowered by the Bulls’ onslaught. Butler went up against Jeff Green, pulled up for a jumper, and calmly sank two points. On defense, he locked Green down, utterly dominating his matchup.

Rondo’s control of the tempo was masterful, Wade still had plenty left in the tank, Mirotic was flawless from three, hitting two in a row, and even Robin Lopez, thanks to Rondo’s playmaking, found himself with two cuts to the basket—one for a layup, another drawing a foul on Vucevic for free throws.

“Whew—”

Robin Lopez took a deep breath and sank both free throws.

“64 to 45! The Chicago team leads their opponents by nearly twenty points on their home court!” The commentator was nearly speechless. “Tonight’s Bulls are like a beast with bloodshot eyes—on both ends of the floor, they’re performing at their highest level this season!”

The commentator’s words echoed the thoughts of Wu Rui, who watched anxiously from the bench. He could accept losing to LeBron James in the final quarter, or being overwhelmed by Joel Embiid’s sheer talent, but this—his team entering garbage time before halftime for the first time all season—was something he’d never expected.

Clang!

As the Magic launched a desperate three-pointer from beyond half court and missed, both teams’ last possessions of the second quarter came up empty. The scoreboard read 64 to 45 as the teams headed to their respective locker rooms.

Of course, only one side was celebrating as they filed off the court.

“Just look at your performance in the first half.” Vogel was too exhausted to even raise his voice. He’d hoped the second quarter might help them recover, but instead they’d fallen even further behind.

To Vogel, this outcome wasn’t entirely surprising. The team’s mood had felt off even before the game started. No matter that their opponents hadn’t won a single game all season—this was the NBA. You can never afford to relax. There are no weak teams in the NBA!

“So, does anyone have anything to say?” He looked around at his players, all of whom stared at their shoes in silence. Vogel shook his head helplessly, then turned to Wu Rui, sitting in the corner. “In that case, Michael, you’ll start the second half.”

“Coach, I don’t think that’s a good idea!” As soon as Vogel finished, Bismack Biyombo, sitting beside Wu Rui, was the first to object. “The opponents are definitely going to ramp up their intensity in the third quarter—putting Michael in now isn’t wise!”

Despite his own poor performance in the first half, Biyombo was still protective of his young teammate.

“Bismack, I’m putting Michael in. He hasn’t said anything yet.” Vogel didn’t pay Biyombo’s protest any mind. He looked at Wu Rui, who stared back at him.

“Tell me, Michael, do you want to win?”

“Coach, I do.”

Vogel’s question was direct, and Wu Rui’s answer was crisp. After all, no one ever wants to lose.

“Good.” Hearing the answer he wanted, Vogel smiled slightly. “Then tell me, Mr. Michael Wu—how are you going to win?”

Whether it’s soccer or basketball, halftime always feels interminable, but every interval has its end. As the break drew to a close, fans began to return to their seats, waiting for the players to emerge.

Even with such a lopsided score at halftime, the fans were determined to stay—to get their money’s worth.

With anticipation mounting, the players finally took the court. Yet, as soon as they did, an uproar swept through the arena.

“Who is that guy?”

A puzzled shout came from somewhere in the stands, and soon the whole crowd was abuzz, all discussing the one unfamiliar face among the ten players on the floor.

“Michael Wu? Coach Frank is actually starting this rookie from China at the beginning of the third quarter?” The commentators, watching number 0 for the Magic tuck in his jersey, were equally perplexed. “Are the Magic conceding this game already? But aside from Michael, the other four are all regular starters!”

No matter how much confusion there was off the court, it didn’t change the fact that Wu Rui was in the game. This time, stepping onto an NBA floor again, he felt none of the nerves from his previous appearances. He was locked in from the moment he set foot on the court.

Previously, every time Wu Rui checked in, Biyombo would remind him not to space out. But now, with Wu Rui on the court without him, and watching from the bench, Biyombo’s worries began to ease as he saw his teammate fully engaged.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Wu Rui closed his eyes and opened them again. He’d fought for this opportunity in the locker room—he would not let it go to waste.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

With tens of thousands of eyes on him, Wu Rui stood on the Bulls’ center court logo and did a series of high-knee drills right there.

“Hey, what’s that kid doing?”

“What is this—a performance? Did the Magic send out an actor?”

Wu Rui’s actions sent the Bulls fans into fits of laughter. It was the first time they’d seen a player do something like this on the court.

“Hey, kid, are you that excited to see me?” Dwyane Wade grinned and joked, watching Wu Rui’s energetic routine.

To be honest, Wade didn’t think it was impossible. He had a huge fanbase worldwide—surely not all the fans preferred Kobe Bryant and LeBron James?

Wade didn’t believe it for a second.

“Of course!” Wu Rui paused his high-knee drills and caught his breath. “But I’m sorry—I’m a Kobe Bryant fan.”