The TV in the apartment was on, the volume turned down low.
ESPN's SportsCenter was breaking down the highlights from last night's games.
The screen flashed, cutting to a press conference from the league office.
"Let's look at the latest news from the league office," the anchor said, speaking at a clipped pace.
"Voting for the 2006-2007 NBA All-Star Game officially opened early this morning, Eastern Time..."
"The league has released the first wave of voting returns..."
Andrew, who was eating breakfast at the dining table, paused mid-bite.
Two familiar posters appeared on the TV screen.
On the left, a frozen shot of Kobe Bryant roaring in his Lakers jersey.
On the right, a powerful dunk by LeBron James in his Cavaliers gear.
The chyron read: First Round Leaders: Kobe Bryant (West), LeBron James (East).
"As expected, the two superstars continue to lead the pack," the anchor's voiceover continued.
"Additionally, Houston Rockets center Yao Ming ranks second among Western Conference players, trailing Kobe by only a slim margin."
"..."
"But the biggest surprise of this round of voting is Lakers forward Link. His name has appeared on the Western Conference frontcourt list for the first time!"
"Whoa!!!" Andrew shouted, dropping his fork and rushing to the TV in a single bound.
"Link! Did you hear that? The All-Star ballot! Your name is on it!"
Link was sitting on the sofa, flipping through the game notes from the previous night. He merely raised his eyes at the news.
"It's just the ballot, Andrew. That's a long way from actually making the team. There are dozens of guys on that list every year."
"But this is the first step! The most critical first step!" Andrew waved his arms excitedly.
"This shows the league is starting to take you seriously. The fans are starting to remember you. You..."
"Stop," Link cut off his agent's daydream, his tone perfectly calm.
"I'm afraid more than half of those votes came from across the ocean. When fans vote for Yao Ming, they're just checking the box for me while they're at it. If we're talking about on-court performance, I'm still a long way off."
Andrew stopped pacing and looked at Link.
His friend and client showed absolutely no excitement on his face—only calm.
"But..." Before Andrew could finish, the news on the TV shifted to another story.
"According to league sources, power forward Yi Jianlian has officially decided to enter the 2007 NBA Draft."
"The seven-foot young big man is considered one of the top international prospects in this class..."
"Yi Jianlian?" Andrew's attention was drawn back to the screen.
He turned to Link. "Link, I remember he's a few years younger than you, right?"
Link's fingers, which were turning the pages of his notebook, paused slightly.
Yi Jianlian...
The name triggered fragments of memories from deep within his mind.
In his past life, Yi was selected by the Milwaukee Bucks in the 2007 draft.
They had high hopes for him, expecting him to carry the franchise.
Yi's talent was undeniable. His running and jumping ability, his shooting touch—he was top-tier among Asian big men.
But the story that followed didn't go as planned...
Injuries, cultural barriers, and frequent changes in his tactical role.
And then there was the heavy weight of expectation and pressure that always accompanied him.
Yi Jianlian's NBA journey was a rollercoaster of ups and downs, and he ultimately never reached the peak people expected.
It brought up complex emotions for Link.
Yi deserved respect.
Although he never reached Yao Ming's heights, later on, he carried the torch.
He led the National Team forward during some very difficult years.
"He's a genius," Link finally said, his voice laced with complex emotion.
"A true genius. Height, wingspan, athleticism... all top-notch. It's just a pity..."
Andrew keenly caught the imperceptible sigh in Link's tone. "What's wrong, Link?"
"...Nothing." Link shook his head, clearing out the emotions regarding the future.
---
A few days later, Staples Center.
The Lakers had just gone through a grueling battle at home, regrettably losing to the Houston Rockets.
The locker room still smelled of sweat.
Link sat in front of his locker, towel-drying his hair.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
The screen displayed "Andrew John."
He picked up, and Andrew's voice sounded serious.
"Link, we have a very important visitor. I think you'll want to meet him..."
Andrew didn't go into details, and Link didn't think much of it.
Maybe it was an important business negotiation.
After showering, Link drove to the location mentioned on the phone.
It was a small office building.
When he arrived at the designated room, Andrew was already waiting inside.
Besides him, there were two other people in the room that surprised Link.
"Big Yao?" Link walked over, surprised to see Yao Ming there.
"I'm not interrupting, am I?" Yao Ming smiled as he walked over. His voice was deep and gentle, carrying a natural aura that put people at ease.
"You played great today. Those backdoor cuts were really smart!"
"Your interior offense is what I call unstoppable," Link replied with a smile, simultaneously casting a questioning glance at the stranger beside Yao.
Yao understood immediately and turned to introduce him.
"Link, this is Team Manager Zhang from the National Team. He's here in the States to handle some business and came to watch the game."
"Mr. Link, I'm Zhang Ping. Please forgive the intrusion!" Manager Zhang stepped forward and offered his hand.
"Manager Zhang, hello. You're too kind. Please, sit!" Link shook his hand and gestured to the empty chairs.
He had a vague idea of what this was about.
"I've heard about you for a long time, Mr. Link. Seeing you play live today, you really live up to the reputation!" Zhang laughed.
"You flatter me," Link smiled politely.
"I'll get straight to the point, Mr. Link," Zhang said, his gaze open and sincere.
"The National Team is currently planning a series of exhibition games for next summer to prepare for some important international tournaments."
"One of the stops will be here in the United States. We plan to play a friendly match against the USA Select Team. Yao Ming has already confirmed he will return to the team to participate."
Link nodded, listening intently without interrupting.
"We very much hope that this game will not only showcase the National Team but also serve as a window connecting and American basketball," Manager Zhang continued earnestly.
"Therefore, we would like to formally invite you to attend this friendly match as a special guest."
"You don't necessarily have to play. You could participate in some pre-game activities, and if time permits, you are welcome to join some of the team's informal training sessions."
"We believe that seeing you and Yao Ming on the same court would be significant for the promotion of basketball in China and Asia!"
Invitation... Guest...
Link didn't speak immediately.
This proposal wasn't just a standard commercial or promotional event; it had deeper implications.
It was more like a tentative olive branch—smart and dignified.
Zhang seemed to sense Link's silence and added understandingly, "Of course, everything depends on your season schedule and your own wishes. We sincerely hope, regardless of the outcome, to maintain a friendly relationship with you."
Link took a deep breath, keeping his voice calm.
"Manager Zhang, I am very honored. Please allow my team to evaluate the schedule, and we will give you an answer as soon as possible!"
"Of course, I completely understand. This is just a preliminary invitation."
At this point, Yao Ming chimed in at just the right moment. "It's just to show your face, get acquainted. Maybe we can train together later, let you feel the level of play back home."
He winked, easing the slightly formal atmosphere.
They chatted briefly about some game details before Manager Zhang politely stood up to leave.
Yao patted Link on the shoulder. "Good luck. Stay healthy. We'll be in touch."
With that, he accompanied Manager Zhang out of the room.
Link took a deep breath and walked to the window.
Deep inside, a subtle emotion was surging.