The article titled "China's First NBA Player," written by Philadelphia Evening News reporter Maxson, was like a small stone striking a calm lake—sending ripples across the surface in an instant.
Of course, the vast lake quickly returned to calm.
Traditional print and television media are nowhere near as influential as future social networks, which is why it took five days for NBA executive Mark to notice the report.
After all, the Philadelphia Evening News is just a local newspaper.
If Maxson's report had been full of industry ridicule, it's likely that Stern wouldn't have even noticed this intriguing Chinese high school player in Philadelphia.
Even when ESPN broadcasted the game between Lower Merion and Chester High School, Su Feng and Kobe had to rely on Sam Golde's clips. Yet, the focus of everyone's attention was primarily on this new breakthrough technique.
In Su Feng's previous life, "Sam Gold" had to wait two more years before gaining recognition. But even in the future, despite "Sam Gold" becoming popular, Sam Gold himself never did.
The reason is simple: Sam Gold never made a name for himself in the NBA.
That's also why many in the industry considered Maxson's report unprofessional.
You want to talk about a talented high school basketball player in the U.S.?
Well, American sports media frequently hyped up prospects—but this was a country where new basketball phenoms emerged almost daily.
Unless you were someone like Kobe Bryant, Vince Carter, or Tracy McGrady—players who would frequently be featured in major basketball magazines and newspapers—even in the American basketball world, few people would know who you were.
A player who hadn't even competed in an official high school league game wouldn't be considered worth discussing by industry insiders.
Thus, after Maxson's article was published, the waves of cynicism directed at him grew stronger and stronger.
Yet, ironically, this very backlash allowed NBA executive Mark to notice the report—and, in turn, pay attention to Su Feng.
That's fate.
Mark and Stern occupied different positions, meaning their perspectives naturally differed from those of industry insiders.
From Mark and Stern's standpoint, whether Su Feng could play in the NBA remained uncertain—but so what?
In the future, they could offer Su Feng other opportunities.
What the NBA needed was a bridge. Whether that bridge was a grand suspension bridge or a simple stone archway—did it really matter?
Well…
At this stage, it certainly didn't.
Of course, from Stern's point of view, a proper investigation was still necessary.
Thus, after a private discussion with Mark, Stern had someone sent to Philadelphia to assess the situation surrounding this Chinese high school player.
If Su Feng was truly talented, then, in Stern's opinion, action needed to be taken.
Because if the hype wasn't strong enough—given the pace of news circulation in the 1990s—who knew how long it would take for the story to reach China, a nation so vast and distant?
And if the NBA failed to generate buzz in China, how could the cross-sea bridge between the NBA and the Chinese market ever be established?
Furthermore, if they didn't make a big impact now, what if Su Feng did eventually make it to the NBA—only for teams to overlook him simply because they didn't believe Asian players could succeed in the league?
For Stern, as NBA president, he had to develop Plan A while simultaneously preparing Plan C.
Still, Stern had been feeling much more optimistic in recent days.
And as he looked at the young Chinese player in the newspaper—sitting in a chair, clutching a basketball—Stern couldn't help but feel an uncanny sense of familiarity.
"He's got the look. And if he can play, he'll be an icon," Stern thought, deep in reflection.
…
The secret surveillance from the higher-ups remained temporarily unnoticed.
Philadelphia.
As a journalist with strong ethics and a clear conscience, Maxson now felt deep regret.
Of course, his regret wasn't over writing the report itself.
What he regretted was failing to consider Su Feng's feelings when drafting it.
"He's just a kid… I was so thoughtless!"
A speculative report with shaky foundations was bound to draw industry ridicule.
Maxson had been prepared for that, and so had the newspaper. But had Su Feng?
What if he couldn't handle the external pressure and crumbled under the weight of scrutiny?
Driven by guilt, Maxson felt the urge to visit Lower Merion and personally apologize to Su Feng.
Meanwhile, on the basketball court at Lower Merion High School, the reliable Swartz was nervously passing the ball to Kobe.
Swish—!
Another picturesque fadeaway.
"Su, forty push-ups!" Bryant said with a smile after sinking his shot, glancing at Su Feng.
"Damn it!"
Something wasn't right.
Sure, facing Kobe one-on-one was tough, but why was Su Feng's team still getting dominated in the three-on-three matchups?
Su Feng wasn't underestimating Kobe. In fact, with his strong court vision and team-first mentality, he couldn't believe his squad kept losing three-on-three matchups to Bryant.
Luckily, Stewart and Russman—his teammates—couldn't hear his thoughts.
Otherwise, they might have fallen to their knees and pleaded, "Brother, please, bring back your passing skills!"
It wasn't that Su Feng didn't want to pass the ball.
But right now, both his passing ability and potential were extremely low.
Plus, with the system still locked at version 6.0, Su Feng couldn't gauge his own court vision accurately.
So instead of taking a risky pass that might end up in the opponent's hands, he figured relying on his shooting was the safest way to impact the game.
On the court, after powering through forty push-ups in one go, Su Feng looked at Bryant with a dissatisfied expression.
"No, let's go again!"
Losing wasn't the end—failure only paved the way for future success.
Besides, he hadn't accumulated enough iron value today!
Since setting his sights on the NBA, Su Feng had been pushing himself harder than ever.
In his mind, his biggest issue wasn't a lack of ability—it was that his body couldn't keep up with his ambitions.
Otherwise, he'd gladly battle Kobe until the end of time without stopping for food or water.
"Let's take a break first," Kobe suddenly said, waving Su Feng over.
Su Feng was stunned. Yo… Kobe? Did you go recharge your emotional intelligence today?
The moment Bryant's words left his mouth, the rest of Lower Merion players immediately fled the gym—nicknamed "Moriya Mine"— as if escaping disaster.
For the first time, they felt a rare sense of mercy from their leader.
"Su, have you been keeping up with the news lately?" Kobe asked, eyes filled with concern.
"Yeah, what happened?" Su Feng replied.
"Well… I mean, Su, don't let the media's opinions get to you. They've been comparing me to Vince for years, and it never mattered."
What?
Su Feng nearly sent Kobe a full-blown Shaquille O'Neal-style reaction meme.
Oh—right!
It finally clicked.
Because of Maxson's report, the Philadelphia media had now firmly embraced the idea that Su Feng wanted to play in the NBA.
Even some professional basketball publications had weighed in—criticizing Maxson's work as amateurish and questioning Su Feng's ability.
But…
Reasonable. After reading these media reports, Su Feng actually found himself agreeing with them!
Su Feng wasn't naive—he knew Maxson's report was simply an attempt to make a bold prediction, hoping that if it came true, he'd be hailed as a visionary.
He had seen plenty of similar articles in his past life. As for the media questioning his abilities, well—he might as well have been Maxson's long-lost son!
To be honest, Su Feng's first reaction after reading the reports was:
"That's it?"
"Really, that's it?"
Was media coverage in the 1990s this tame?
Did critics not even try to be harsh?
As someone who had gone through countless online battles with every kind of sports fan—whether NC Honey or hardcore Kobe fans—on various forums, earning badges for enduring endless verbal attacks, Su Feng found these reports laughably harmless.
Moreover, even negative press wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
At the very least, it meant people were starting to pay attention to him.
After all, if you strip down a hater to their core, aren't they technically still fans?
Su Feng almost wanted to teach these reporters how to criticize him properly—otherwise, their weak attempts would lose traction, and the buzz around him would fade too quickly.
And, as it turned out...
The wave of attention Maxson stirred up didn't last long.
Of course, unlike Su Feng, Kobe viewed these reports as a big deal and worried they might negatively affect him.
After all, public criticism in this era wasn't nearly as vicious as what the future would bring.
For example, take DOTA2—a game Su Feng had loved playing in his past life.
As everyone knew, at TI4, Newbee won the championship, and Chen Zhihao, a key player, became an icon.
But later in life, Chen admitted that he was lucky the media environment wasn't as harsh back then.
If public scrutiny had been as brutal as it would become, he might have retired the moment he had a bad tournament at TI3.
In Su Feng's past life, as social networks expanded, not only did the speed of information transmission increase exponentially, but the cost of public criticism dropped drastically.
People found new and creative ways to attack others.
Take LeBron James—Su Feng's favorite player in his past life.
Objectively speaking, the kind of relentless negative reports about LeBron… Any normal person would explode from the stress.
Even though wearing the crown meant bearing the weight of responsibility, people in the future had a level of resilience that was far beyond what anyone in the 1990s could handle.
Still, while Kobe's words of comfort felt unnecessary to Su Feng, it was heartwarming to have the support of his best friend in this life.
There was real friendship in the world.
This was ironclad friendship!
Just as Su Feng was about to reassure Kobe that he was fine, suddenly...
"Excuse me, is Su here?" Maxson stood outside the gym, calling out loudly.
"Is it because of the report? Are they questioning you?" Kobe clenched his fists, ready to rush forward and confront Maxson.
Su Feng, however, remained calm.
To him, Maxson's report had actually helped his reputation rather than hurt it.
Besides…
If people were going to question him, he almost wanted to teach them how to do it properly!
Otherwise, what fun would it be when he actually made it to the NBA?
"Su, I'm sorry… I made a special trip here to apologize because my report may have damaged your reputation." Maxson walked up to Su Feng and Kobe, his voice sincere.
Kobe, standing next to Su Feng, was about to lash out—but Su Feng quickly stopped him.
"Sorry… I didn't consider that you're just a high school student when I published the report."
"If you need psychological counseling, here's some money to cover the cost," Maxson added, looking at Su Feng apologetically.
Su Feng hadn't expected Maxson to be such a principled journalist.
This wasn't like the reporters he remembered...
"Are you talking about the articles?" Su Feng asked. "To be honest, I'm fine. I think you already know my story."
"And I'm not the kind of person who gets discouraged easily."
Su Feng wasn't overly sentimental, but he did have a sense of fairness.
There was no need to make Maxson feel guilty.
"No, no—I know about your background in Nefalia," Maxson said quickly.
"But Su, this is my fault. I didn't do my job properly."
"Maybe you won't accept my apology, but that's okay."
"Su, I've spoken to the editor-in-chief."
"Starting next season, I'll be launching a special column dedicated to covering Lower Merion's games."
Su Feng froze.
A Lower Merion column?
He immediately understood what Maxson was implying.
Since the basketball industry wasn't acknowledging him now, Maxson would ensure his story was recorded—so that once Su Feng made it to the NBA, the critics wouldn't be able to ignore him anymore!
This was perfect!
Su Feng knew this was precisely what he needed at this moment.
Because without media coverage, paving his way to the NBA would be significantly harder.
People thought NBA talent emerged out of nowhere?
No—every step had to be calculated.
Whether it was playing high school basketball or eventually competing in the NCAA, in Su Feng's mind, it was all part of the plan.
And what good was a strategy without media backing?
Especially in the 1990s—before social media had revolutionized public perception.
Take Kobe, for example—his rise in popularity had been manufactured by journalists consistently building hype with their reports.
Looking at Maxson's sincere expression, Su Feng suddenly felt that even his plain-looking face held a certain dignity.
"But if you do this, I'm worried people in the industry will criticize Su even more," Kobe interjected, concerned.
"I know—I'm just an ordinary reporter," Maxson admitted.
"My words and judgment will likely continue being mocked by insiders."
"But don't worry—I've already sent Su's résumé to my brother. He's very interested in him."
"By the way, I forgot to introduce myself. My brother is Jackson—he's an NBA scout."
NBA scout?!
Wait...
This felt too perfect.
Something was off.
This wasn't how things were supposed to unfold!
Su Feng couldn't shake the feeling that his life...
Was going way too smoothly.
"I really am just too ridiculously handsome," Su Feng mused to himself, regaining his confidence.