Chapter 444: Triple Happiness, Security Guard's Overtime Day
70 to 79.
The Phoenix Suns were up 9 after 3, and it felt like the building had tilted in their favor.
Chen Yan had 30 of the team's 39 points in the quarter. It was the kind of stretch that made an NBA game look unfair, like the other 9 guys were just extras in his highlight reel.
During the break, Mike D'Antoni pulled out his oldest, simplest card.
"Chen, keep shooting in the 4th. Keep the offense alive. Steve, push the pace even more. We need shots before their defense gets set. Amare, run pick and roll with him. After the screen, don't dive to the rim, float around the free throw line and open driving space."
"Understood!"
Chen Yan, Steve Nash, and Amar'e Stoudemire answered together.
The plan was as clean as it gets. Everything flowed through the hottest hand on the floor.
Nash had no complaints. He loved turning a teammate into a weapon. Stoudemire was fine doing the dirty work and cashing in when it came back to him. The entire Suns roster trusted Chen Yan's scoring, and with the rest of the team ice cold tonight, the correct decision was also the obvious one.
The 4th quarter started.
Phoenix had the first possession. Nash brought it up, and Chen Yan fought through James Posey to catch the ball beyond the 3 point line on the wing.
Phil Jackson had shelved Trevor Ariza for the final quarter. After what Chen Yan did to him in the 3rd, Ariza needed a breather. Posey checked in instead.
Posey's defense came from a different place. He was not a speed demon, but he was seasoned, sharp, and aggressive in the way veterans are when they know exactly what they can get away with. He liked to crowd, bump, front, and threaten doubles early.
But guarding Chen Yan was a different animal.
If Posey guessed wrong on a front, he would be dead in the play. Chen Yan's first step would turn the mistake into a layup or an open 3 before Posey could even blink.
Chen Yan caught the ball. Posey glued himself to him, chest close, feet active, hands busy. Tenacity was Posey's calling card, he wanted to make every touch exhausting.
Chen Yan signaled for a screen.
The Lakers had too many elite perimeter defenders for him to live in isolation every trip. This was the NBA, not a street court. Efficiency mattered.
He crossed over and drifted toward the top of the arc. Posey clipped the Stoudemire screen, and Marcus Camby stepped up cautiously to contain.
Chen Yan planted his left foot and flashed a fake pose with his left hand, a signature look that sold shot and rhythm at the same time.
Camby twitched forward, then stopped himself.
He had already been burned by that in the 3rd. He was not interested in donating points twice to the same trick.
Seeing the hesitation, Chen Yan lifted the same motion again.
Fake Pose, real jumper.
The release was smooth, almost calm. The ball kissed the back rim and dropped cleanly through.
70 to 82.
The moment it fell, the arena knew the heat had followed him into the 4th.
The Suns crowd surged to its feet. The noise rose in waves, and the chant was immediate.
"Defense!"
On the other end, Chen Yan stayed attached to Posey on the perimeter. Posey could hit open shots, but if you took away the daylight, he was not beating anyone off the dribble.
The Lakers did not force it to Kobe Bryant right away. They flowed into the triangle. After a few exchanges, Kevin Garnett got a layup at the rim.
His shooting touch had been rough all night, but he was not missing that.
Phoenix came back.
Chen Yan tried to work without the ball, but Posey's off ball pressure was relentless. Little bumps, little grabs, constant contact. It was legal enough to avoid whistles, annoying enough to get under your skin.
So Chen Yan stopped playing polite.
He received the ball at the top, tucked it behind his back in his right hand, and waved his left arm.
Clear out.
The crowd read the gesture like a promise.
"MVP!"
"MVP!"
"MVP!"
Posey's jaw tightened. He kept telling himself the same thing, over and over.
Second year rookie. Nothing special. Don't blink.
It was the kind of mental trick defenders use when they are trying to stay brave in a place that is getting louder by the second.
Chen Yan could not hear any of it. Not really.
His focus narrowed to the ball, Posey's hips, and the space between them.
He dribbled between his legs, then behind his back, shifting the ball to his left. He paused for half a beat.
Fake Pose again.
His eyes locked on the rim. His left hand floated like he was about to rise for a 3.
Posey reacted, hand up, step forward. He could not afford to give Chen Yan air, not from that range.
He did not lunge wildly, but his weight tilted.
That was enough.
Chen Yan snapped a front crossover and slid past him. No full sprint, no wasted motion, just perfect rhythm and timing. The lane opened.
He cut inside along the middle. Camby left Stoudemire to help, and Kobe on the weak side started to shade toward the paint, ready to leave Raja Bell and trap.
Chen Yan dribbled behind his back on the move, eyes still pointed toward the arc where Bell waited.
Kobe hesitated. Camby's attention shifted.
Then, in the next instant, Chen Yan pushed the ball forward with his left hand, a bounce pass straight to the open Stoudemire.
A feint and pass.
The Lakers bought the look and lost the ball.
Stoudemire caught it, gathered with 1 step, and detonated at the rim with a 2 handed slam.
The building shook.
In the broadcast booth, Charles Barkley let out a sharp laugh.
"That's the right play," he said. "Y'all want the hero shot every time, but that's winning basketball."
Kenny Smith nodded, voice steady.
"They sent help early. He read it instantly. When a scorer is that locked in, the defense panics, and the easiest points on the floor show up."
The crowd still wanted blood. Fans always want the hardest shot, the most impossible finish, the highlight that makes tomorrow's replay loop.
But Chen Yan wanted the win. He did not care what was more entertaining.
The Lakers answered, staying with the triangle. Derek Fisher found the corner off a Kobe touch and buried a 3.
They sprinted back. Phoenix settled into the half court again.
Posey battled Chen Yan for position, forcing him toward the elbow. The wrestling match every possession was draining, so Chen Yan trimmed the extra moves. Quick decisions. Clean looks.
He caught it. One crossover in place, half a step of separation, and he rose into his signature fadeaway.
Posey extended a hand out of habit. At that point, it was more prayer than contest.
Swish.
Posey did not even turn around. The net snap and the roar told him everything.
The arena shouted Chen Yan's name. Up in the stands, Taylor Swift was on her feet too, yelling with everyone else, eyes locked on the court like she had forgotten there was anything outside that rectangle of wood.
The Lakers tried again.
This time the triangle stalled. Garnett caught in the post and looked to spray it back out, but the pass was telegraphed. Chen Yan jumped the lane and stole it clean.
The crowd exploded again.
"MVP!"
Barkley's tone rose.
"He doing it on both ends now," he said. "That's when you know the whole building is his."
Kenny added, "Phoenix loves him. You can feel it. This isn't just scoring, it's ownership. He's dictating the game."
Chen Yan pushed the break and finished, and Phil Jackson finally had enough.
Timeout.
The Lakers had opened the 4th with a brief pulse, a couple of triangle scores that hinted at life. But the shooting stayed ugly, and after the timeout there was no real change. Halfway through the quarter, the suspense was gone.
With 4:58 left, Chen Yan checked out to a standing ovation.
Final line, 51 points, 7 rebounds, 4 assists, 4 steals.
40 of the 51 came in the second half.
When the horn sounded, it was 101 to 89. Phoenix won on a night that already felt marked on the calendar.
The fans celebrated in their seats, soaking it in. Beating a rival at home on Christmas Day, that was the kind of joy you could carry for weeks.
For Chen Yan, it was triple happiness.
A win in the Christmas Day game, the release of his new AeroWing shoes, and his new song dropping the same day.
Almost everyone in the building was smiling.
Almost everyone.
The only people who looked like they wanted to file a complaint were the arena staff and the security guards. A Kobe loss meant extra practice later, which meant more overtime for them, and as usual, it came with the same bonus as always.
[TL: My new fanfic is out now—One Piece: Pokémon Master of the Seas! Check it out!]
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