Chen Yu had once read a long, detailed article about Jordan’s story—how diligent he was, how hard he worked, and how he created a series of unbelievable miracles.
And one sentence from it had left a deep impression on Chen Yu.
It said that Jordan’s triple threat was the *real* triple threat. When he was one-on-one, ball in hand, standing in front of you, you shouldn’t be thinking about how to stop him. Instead, you should be considering what pose to strike as you watched the ball go into the net.
Kobe’s defense was excellent; he had made his name as a defender. While O’Neal was wreaking havoc in the paint, it was Kobe who anchored the Lakers’ perimeter defense.
But facing Jordan, even when his subconscious knew Jordan would likely use a fake, he still couldn’t stop himself from being deceived and losing his balance.
And then he was a step too slow.
With a simple crossover, Jordan had already slipped past him, stopped on a dime, and pulled up for a mid-range jumper.
Even though Kobe desperately tried to recover and leap up to contest the shot, it was already too late.
As Jordan hung in the air, his body fully extended, you could feel that his vertical leap wasn’t what it used to be. But his form in mid-air was still worthy of a 360-degree camera to capture its perfect posture.
As the clock hit zero, the basketball swished precisely through the hoop.
There were only 2.7 seconds left in the first half.
Jordan had hit the buzzer-beater on the final possession.
He landed without much celebration, simply giving the stands a small wave. A calm smile hung on his face, his expression so serene it was as if he’d made countless shots like that before.
In front of Chen Yu, Little Curry was shouting excitedly, yelling at him over and over, "Did you see that? Oh my god, he’s amazing!"
Chen Yu watched Jordan walk off the court at the end of the half. ’25 points in a half,’ he thought. ’This old guy is really giving it his all.’
Who would have thought he was already 40 years old?
Olajuwon, also 40, and Ewing, who was close, could maybe score 20 points on a good day, even if their bodies were perfectly healthy.
But Jordan had done it.
There were no flashy drives or dunks; it seemed he couldn’t drive or fly like he used to.
But his mid-range shot was still as solid as a mountain.
It was the weapon of a god!
However, looking at Jordan’s expression, Chen Yu felt he didn’t seem entirely satisfied.
’Are the opponents too weak?’
It was the All-Star Game, after all, so the defensive intensity was naturally low.
And for the entire West, Hardaway wasn’t competing or trying to show off. He had no intention of going head-to-head with Jordan, instead diligently playing his role as a playmaker and creating opportunities for his teammates.
Only Kobe was defending Jordan with all his might, constantly trying to take him on one-on-one and score on him.
In this battle of the successors, Hardaway had already fallen behind.
The players didn’t return to the locker room, and there was nothing for Chen Yu to do. They just stood by the court, waiting for Kelly’s performance.
The blonde-haired Kelly took the stage amidst the cheers of the entire crowd.
For a star of her caliber, even Hardaway’s eyes lit up, and he stared at her without blinking.
And when Kelly began to sing, a rendition of "Hero" set the arena ablaze. Even Jordan, sitting quietly beside the stage, had a faraway look in his eyes.
As the song reached its crescendo, the corners of his eyes even began to glisten with tears.
Chen Yu noticed and couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking in that moment. Was he thinking about his journey—how with his own effort and persistence, he had broken through the shackles of Detroit, then gradually came to dominate the entire league, dimming the light of all the other superstars of his era? How he had single-handedly pushed the NBA to incredible heights and become synonymous with the sport itself?
As a behind-the-scenes professional, Chen Yu had a better understanding of the players off the court and knew more about their struggles and efforts behind the games.
When a player like Ewing, riddled with injuries, was still willing to give it one last shot for a championship, one could only imagine how much Jordan must have sacrificed for his own incredible achievements.
He might have had many, many flaws, but on the basketball court, he was indisputably great—the one and only God of Basketball.
Kelly gracefully extended a hand, inviting Jordan onto the stage.
At that moment, the entire arena rose to its feet. Jordan said his thanks and waved for the applause to stop, but it wouldn’t.
The applause lasted a full two minutes before slowly dying down.
Now, holding the microphone, Jordan was visibly moved, his eyes shimmering with tears.
"I want to thank you all!"
He turned his head and looked toward the courtside area, which was filled with legends. "My teammates, my opponents, and all the fans. I also want to thank my family for supporting me for so long, for supporting me in achieving my dream on the court."
He paused, then continued, "I can leave with peace of mind, for I have passed the game of basketball into more capable hands. I took the baton for the NBA from Dr. J, Magic Johnson, Big Bird Bird, and the other legends who came before me."
"And now, here, on the All-Star stage, I want to pass that baton on again."
He turned his head, looking at the many stars standing beside the stage.
Hardaway, Kobe, Hill, Carter, Iverson...
All of them stared intently at Jordan, as if in anticipation of something.
The gazes of everyone present, and indeed the focus of the countless fans watching the game, seemed to converge on this single moment.
Chen Yu subconsciously looked over at Hardaway and the others.
The media, and the fans, were always debating who Jordan’s true successor was.
Even Jordan himself had publicly named names before.
But the discussion seemed as if it would never end.
And in this moment, it seemed Jordan was about to finally put the question to rest.
But, looking at the group, Jordan didn’t give a clear endorsement. Instead, he said, "For me, this year may be an end point. I can go home and enjoy the peace and comfort that basketball has brought me. But I hope even more that it will be a starting point. I hope that you..."
He gestured with a broad sweep of his hand toward the crowd of standing stars.
"...will take this game we love to new heights. You shouldn’t try to become me; you should surpass me!"
He pressed his lips together and gave a firm nod.
The whole arena was silent for a beat, and then erupted in thunderous applause.
Chen Yu was clapping, and clapping hard.
Before this game, Jordan had been out for a month, working hard to get his body in shape, all for the sake of playing better in this one game.
And he had indeed played very well. 25 points in the half, the highest of anyone, unmatched.
Chen Yu had honestly thought that Jordan, like a prankster, would use his unparalleled dominance to tell everyone that a god is always a god, far beyond their reach.
But in this moment, Chen Yu suddenly realized he had been wrong.
Deep down, he didn’t want to be the one and only. He hoped someone could follow in his footsteps, go even further, and surpass him.
Just as he had said earlier, that he had followed in the footsteps of Dr. J and the others.
He had taken the baton, and now, he wanted to pass it on, so that those who came after could take the sport of basketball to even greater heights.
That’s what sports are about: only higher, only farther.
On stage, Jordan scanned the arena, his gaze complex. It seemed he wanted to say something more, but in the end, he held it back. With just a smile and a wave, he walked off the stage.
He walked up to the crowd of players.
As it happened, Kobe, Hardaway, and Hill were standing in the front row.
Kobe stared at Jordan with burning intensity, ready to extend his hand.
But Jordan went to Hardaway first, stepping forward to give him a hug.
"Keep it up."
Jordan patted Hardaway on the back, let go, and walked toward Kobe.
Kobe subconsciously took a small step forward, preparing to hug Jordan.
But Jordan just stuck out his hand and gave Kobe a high-five.
Then he moved past Kobe and high-fived Hill.
Kobe was still clapping, but his expression was clearly a bit unnatural.
Jordan didn’t notice. He continued down the line, high-fiving players, until he saw Little Curry standing at the very end, in front of Chen Yu, his face full of anticipation and excitement as he clapped furiously.
He smiled slightly, casually pulling Little Curry into a brief hug, then turned to wave at the cameras.
It was as if he were saying a final goodbye to his past self.
Watching him, Chen Yu suddenly felt a little melancholic.
He thought of Batty, who, with red-rimmed eyes, told all the reporters after a match that it would be his last World Cup.
He also thought of Baggio, giving his all in one last dance before retirement.
’Then again,’ he mused, ’perhaps their endings were good ones, finishing their careers amidst glory and well wishes, concluding the work they had strived and fought for.’
’But so many others, who worked just as hard, ended up like shooting stars vanishing in the sky—flashing for just a moment before disappearing without a trace.’
’And even more never even got to flash at all.’
"Dr. Chen, what’s wrong?" Little Curry asked with concern, noticing Chen Yu’s expression.
"It’s nothing. Let’s watch the game."
Chen Yu smiled and ruffled Little Curry’s hair.
KA-THUNK.
It was Hill.
Even now, he still possessed the quickest first step in the league. Like a sharp knife, he easily tore through the West’s defense and finished with a one-handed slam dunk.
At that moment, Chen Yu suddenly felt the game had become much more interesting.
Especially these so-called successors, who were all starting to turn it on.
Hardaway was no longer coasting. He hadn’t even crossed half-court with the ball when he suddenly threw a long pass. Under the basket, O’Neal instantly shoved aside Ben Wallace and leaped up to complete the alley-oop slam.
The West, which had been trailing, was slowly closing the gap.
But standing in their way was still an insurmountable mountain.
A sudden stop, a spin, a pull-back. Even though Kobe hadn’t lost position, he was still unable to bother Jordan’s fadeaway shot.
Swish.
By the end of the third quarter, Jordan had already exploded for 36 points.
From the sidelines, Chen Yu could clearly feel that Jordan’s stamina was heavily drained.
But the reason he was a god wasn’t just his unparalleled skill; it was also his vast experience. Precisely managing his stamina was one of the things he did best.
In the fourth quarter, after resting for only three minutes, Jordan put on his armor and returned to the court.
As long as he was on the court, he could score.
"That’s 40 points."
Standing next to Chen Yu, even Budenholzer couldn’t help but sigh in amazement, his voice trembling slightly.
At 40 years old, to be able to score that many points under Kobe’s full-on defense... how many people in the entire history of the NBA could do that?
Or rather, only Jordan could.
Chen Yu didn’t say anything, but he could clearly feel the West had ramped up the intensity.
Everyone started playing for real.
Hardaway stopped coasting. A series of crossovers shook off Iverson, and he hit a mid-range shot while drifting.
And then there was O’Neal. He started putting in the effort too, using his massive body to repeatedly push aside Da Ben and score.
In the paint, the East was clearly outmatched by the West.
But Hill was also going crazy. The much taller Garnett couldn’t keep up with his footwork at all, and could only watch as he scored again and again.
But even as all the stars shone, there was only one light that blazed like the sun.
It’s unknown whether it was a tacit understanding or mere coincidence, but with 11 seconds left in the game, the East and West were tied.
114-114!
At this moment, the ball was in Jordan’s hands.
Standing before him was Kobe.
The clock ticked down, second by second. Kobe was completely focused, watching the slowly advancing Jordan with a look that was almost ferocious. He clapped his hands hard and let out a low roar.
Everyone else had cleared out.
The whole arena held its breath, the only sound the ticking of the clock.
After stepping inside the three-point line, Jordan suddenly stopped and gave Kobe a slight nod.
In that instant, Jordan’s gaze, as calm and deep as an abyss, made Kobe’s heart tremble inexplicably.
And then Jordan shot the ball.
He shot it just like he had shot it countless times over the past decade and more to win a game.
Kobe lunged forward, but still couldn’t touch the ball as it left Jordan’s hand.
The two of them landed.
Without even looking, Jordan turned away.
Behind him, as the clock hit zero, the basketball pierced the heart of the net, sending the white mesh rippling.

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