T/N: No update tomorrow.
...
In Wuhan, at the men's basketball training camp, head coach Deng Huade couldn't stop shaking his head.
He really wanted to say to the other Asian Championship teams, "You might as well pack up and go home."
The moment the news broke that Lin Yi had officially announced his participation in the Asian Championship, Weibo practically exploded.
Where do I buy tickets for the Wuhan Asian Championship?
The betting odds are out—how many points do you think the Chinese team will win by on average?
Not since the Yao Ming era had Chinese basketball fans felt this confident.
Back then, Yao Ming was a one-man demolition crew, making Asian teams cry every summer. But now, Lin Yi was back—and that was an entirely different story.
Fans weren't even debating if China would win the title. The only question was how badly Lin Yi would dominate.
"You think Lin can average 50 a game?"
"Fifty? I don't think so. He barely plays three quarters in the NBA. Over here, he might check out after, what, half a quarter?"
Across FIBA Asia, panic was setting in.
Yao had once been called a missile, and now the NBA's reigning MVP was coming to play in the same tournament.
But what could anyone say? Lin Yi was Chinese. He had every right to represent his country.
The NBA was in a lockout—playing at home was the logical thing to do.
If you're weak, it's not his fault you're about to be dominated.
Even FIBA Asia seemed to enjoy the attention Lin brought to the tournament on the low.
Just a few days of joint training left the national team in awe. The impression Lin Yi had left during the Houston training camp last year still lingered vividly in everyone's minds.
On the first day, poor Zhang Zhaoxu—tormented again and again by Lin Yi—could only groan, "Give me the ball… I want to go home."
Lin Yi quickly realized he was even more terrifying under FIBA rules.
The shorter three-point line? That turned his NBA threes into mid-range jumpers. His turnaround fadeaways and pull-ups—already lethal—were now practically unfair.
Do you know what it looks like when someone hits a turnaround fadeaway from the three-point line?
And this was Asia, where, in one memorable game against one team, guard Sun Yue had actually been taller than their center.
So, really… who could stop Lin Yi?
Haddadi? Please. In the NBA, Haddadi saw Lin Yi like a mouse seeing a cat. When Memphis played New York, they didn't even dare put him on the floor.
Yi Jianlian and Wang Zhizhi were smarter about it. Yi knew better than to let Lin Yi bruise his ego, and Da Zhi was a seasoned vet by now—more focused on recovery than proving a point.
During a break, Yi Jianlian approached Lin Yi. "Lin, how long do you think this lockout will last? Should I just go back and play for Guangdong?"
Lin Yi frowned. He didn't want Yi Jianlian messing up his NBA prospects after finally earning recognition.
"The league will definitely resume before December," Lin Yi said. "The players' union will have to concede. Most of those guys can't survive without paychecks—they've got mortgages, loans… You can train with Guangdong, sure, but don't actually play in the CBA. Look at Yao—trained with Shanghai, but never played official games."
He wasn't wrong.
Chinese players could be sentimental. Once their old club begged them to stay, it'd be hard to walk away, even with a clause allowing early termination.
Yi Jianlian nodded. He trusted Lin Yi's judgment—after all, Lin Yi had started to build a budding legacy overseas.
Since changing his play style, Yi Jianlian has also found success. His long-term deal with the Wizards was solid, and he'd even started house-hunting in Washington.
Back at camp, Lin Yi's dedication left the younger players speechless. His focus was almost unnerving.
At first, only he and Yi Jianlian stayed behind for extra drills. But before long, everyone followed suit. No one dared leave early when the NBA MVP was still sweating through free throws.
Wang Zhizhi looked on, a little nostalgic. "Back in our day, we trained till we bled. If we'd had this kind of scientific approach, the national team would've gone even further."
He wasn't wrong. Many of the old generation's bodies had broken down precisely because their training was all grit, no science.
…
Then came September.
NBA labor talks fell apart again. David Stern canceled the preseason and warned that if things didn't improve by October, the Christmas games would be gone too. If November came with no progress, the entire season might be scrapped.
Lin Yi could tell—the players' union was close to giving in.
Meanwhile, across the Pacific, Chinese fans were losing their minds.
On September 15, the Wuhan Asian Championship tipped off.
China's first opponent?
Bahrain.
Lin Yi played only 15 minutes. Not because he was tired—but because the game was a joke. Bahrain's players were practically lining up after the buzzer to for a chat.
He was an NBA MVP in the flesh—who cared about the score?
For the record, it was 139–30. China by 109.
It looked less like a basketball game and more like a highlight reel.
"This is bullying," commentator Yu Jia laughed.
"Absolute bullying," Zhang chuckled. "I can't wait for the Philippines game. Remember, before Lin Yi confirmed his participation, they were talking big about dethroning China."
The next day, the Philippines learned its lesson.
Jump ball, Lin Yi received the first pass from Guo Ailun, drove straight into the paint, and—bam. Three defenders, all around 190 cm, jumped. Lin Yi soared above them and dunked like thunder.
The Wuhan crowd erupted.
"M-V-P! M-V-P!"
He blocked shots, drained threes, and turned the game into an exhibition.
China crushed the Philippines 125–55.
Then came the UAE—120–60.
Syria—115–65.
Jordan—131–82.
Even Japan, which came armed with heart and skill, stood no chance.
Coach Deng Huade had asked Lin Yi before the tournament about tactics. Lin Yi just smiled and said, "Give me the ball and spread out."
He wasn't joking.
Sometimes, power alone breaks strategy.
And Lin Yi's power meant one thing: Asia was, once again, at peace.
By the end of the group stage, China had swept every game by an average margin of over 50 points.
The rest of Asia?
"Give us the flight tickets," one meme read. "We just want to go home."
...
Please do leave a review and powerstones, helps with the book's exposure.
Feel like joining a Patreon for free and subscribing to advanced chapters?
Visit the link:
[email protected]/GRANDMAESTA_30
Change @ to a