I made all five of my shots right from the start, and the whole league was stunned.

Chapter 51 Spring Festival, Dumplings, and the Super Bowl

February 26, 2009, the first day of the Lunar New Year.

The streets of New York were not decorated with lanterns and colorful decorations, but in the Knicks' locker room, the air was filled with the "Chinese New Year smell" of vinegar, garlic, and flour.

"Damn it... why is this damn stick so slippery?"

Randolph was sitting in a chair.

He stiffly gripped a pair of bamboo chopsticks with two fingers, trying to pick up the pork and cabbage dumpling from the lunchbox.

His expression was even more serious than when he was shooting free throws.

"It's stuck...it's stuck..." Randolph carefully brought the dumpling to his mouth.

"Clatter".

Just as the dumpling was about to reach my mouth, it suddenly slipped and fell to the floor.

"Damn it! I'm not playing anymore!"

Randolph completely lost his patience, slammed his chopsticks on the table, reached out, grabbed another dumpling, and stuffed it into his mouth, mumbling a complaint as he chewed:

"Li, why do you have to use those two damn sticks?"

Li Xiangbei sat to the side, watching the group of burly American men grimacing as they were tortured by chopsticks, a smile on his face like that of an auntie.

"Zack, those are chopsticks. They are the culmination of our thousands of years of wisdom."

Li Xiangbei skillfully picked up a dumpling with his chopsticks, dipped it in vinegar, and took a bite, releasing a burst of juice.

"Where we're from, eating dumplings on the first day of the Lunar New Year signifies the transition to the new year, family reunion, and good fortune. And..." Li Xiangbei pointed to the pair of chopsticks on the ground, "using chopsticks can help you catch good luck. You're just grabbing them with your hands? Then you might lose money this year."

Upon hearing the words "losing money," Randolph's large face instantly froze.

"No! I'll take it! I'll take it, okay?!"

Randolph quickly picked up his chopsticks and looked at David Lee, who was eating with great relish next to him.

"David! Damn it, how did you do that? Teach me! For my dollars!"

David Lee gracefully picked up a dumpling: "Zach, this requires a feel for it. Like your hook shot in the paint, be soft, don't just rely on brute force like a bear."

The entire locker room was filled with laughter and cheerful conversation.

After finishing the dumplings, Li Xiangbei stood up and took out a stack of red envelopes from his bag.

"Here, one for each person. This is also a Chinese custom, called lucky money."

Little Potato Robinson excitedly rushed forward to take the red envelope and eagerly opened it.

Inside was a brand new $1 bill and an Under Armour flagship store 50% off coupon with Li Xiangbei's portrait on it.

"Boss, you're being way too stingy! One dollar?" Nate looked at the bill with disbelief.

"It's called 'A New Beginning, A Fresh Start.' The point is the auspicious meaning, not the amount," Li Xiangbei patted Nate's head, spouting nonsense with a straight face. "Besides, that coupon can save you a lot of money; it's an employee discount."

"Come on, repeat after me." Li Xiangbei cleared his throat.

"Gong Xi Fa Cai!"

A group of burly black and white men shouted in unison in various strange accents:

"May Gong Xi get rich!"

Just then, Li Xiangbei's phone rang.

It's a video call.

On the other end of the screen was Yao Ming at his home in Houston.

"Happy New Year, Xiang Bei!" Yao Ming, wearing a festive red sweatshirt, asked in the background, "Have you eaten dumplings yet?"

"They're eating right now, Yao." Li Xiangbei turned the camera around to let Yao Ming see his teammates struggling with chopsticks. "They're doing cultural export. Zach is almost driven crazy by the chopsticks."

"Haha! Not bad, not bad!" Yao Ming's hearty laughter rang out. "It must have been tough for you in New York. Don't be too lonely spending the New Year alone. Even though you're far from home, as long as you're in your heart, anywhere can be home. After the season ends, let's go back to Beijing and have a good get-together, and have some real Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor)."

"Definitely, Brother Yao. Please give my regards to your uncle and aunt."

After hanging up the phone, Li Xiangbei felt a surge of warmth in his heart.

Although I am far from home and facing a demanding schedule and public pressure, I am not alone as long as I have these brothers.

……

Scarlett Johansson's private mansion.

Today is the biggest holiday in the United States—the Super Bowl.

For Americans, this is their Spring Festival Gala.

Scarlett threw a top-notch party for the game.

Those invited were all Hollywood stars, Wall Street tycoons, or darlings of the fashion world.

To complement Li Xiangbei, Scarlett wore a red silk cheongsam tonight. The tight cut accentuated her perfect S-curve, and the high slit revealed glimpses of her long, beautiful legs. The vibrant red made her the absolute focus of the entire event.

She linked arms with Li Xiangbei, as if displaying her most precious trophy, as they weaved through the crowd.

"Hey, Li!"

A well-known Hollywood producer, clearly a bit drunk, had a flushed face.

"It was such a shame you lost to the Grizzlies last game. I was watching on TV and I was so worried for you." The producer hiccuped, his tone slightly teasing. "Worried about tomorrow's game? I heard that guy named Kobe is already in New York. He's a real perfectionist."

The surrounding air seemed to freeze slightly.

In this circle, no one will expose someone's shortcomings to their face unless they want to see them make a fool of themselves.

Li Xiangbei swirled the champagne glass in his hand, showing no sign of being offended or annoyed.

"Winning and losing are normal; no one can win all the time."

He pointed to the Super Bowl halftime show being broadcast live, where Bruce was performing passionately.

"This kind of competition only happens once a year. Everyone just enjoys the excitement, has a few drinks, and that's fine."

Li Xiangbei turned his head, looked at the producer, and smiled slightly.

"But tomorrow night at Madison Square Garden."

"I'll put on an even better show than this. If I were you, I'd buy a ticket."

Scarlett leaned on Li Xiangbei's shoulder at the opportune moment, parted her red lips slightly, and left a kiss on his cheek in front of everyone.

"I trust you."

Scarlett's voice wasn't loud, but it conveyed unconditional adoration and support.

"My scoundrel, tomorrow night, I'll be sitting in the front row watching you kick that Mamba out of New York."

……

After the party ended, Li Xiangbei returned home.

My phone vibrated.

A text message from Kobe.

"I heard you're having a party?"

"I hope your legs can still run tomorrow. Because I'm going to score 60 points against you and break the Madison record—KB!"

Li Xiangbei looked at the text message and smiled.

This paranoid maniac.

He went into the dressing room and took a picture.

The photo shows his entire wall of sneaker collection, with the unreleased "Rogue 1 All-Star Edition" in the very center.

Send a picture.

"Remember to wear comfortable shoes, old man. Because you'll be following me around the whole time."

Put down your phone.

Li Xiangbei looked out the window at the night scene.

"60 points? In the world before the time travel, Kobe would score a whopping 61 points in tomorrow's game."

"This is my territory. Want to break the record? No way."