Chapter 117: A Historic Moment

The entire arena was no longer chanting "MVP," but "Beat Michael Jordan." For the fans, winning an MVP might be difficult, but breaking one of Jordan's records often felt like an impossible dream. Some people began to cover their mouths in disbelief, while others were already praying.

How would Lin Fei break the scoring record? He needed just six more points to step over Michael Jordan in the playoff scoring history books.

On the next possession, the Warriors were clearly disorganized. Even a fool knew the ball was going to Lin Fei, and before he could even receive it, a turnover occurred. Many began to curse the Mavericks for their lack of cooperation, though perhaps one should consider it from the Mavericks' perspective. A blowout loss was one thing, but such a crushing defeat was hard to swallow. To add to that, letting a green kid drop sixty-plus points on their defense and etch his name into history would be an even greater tragedy.

The Mavericks continued their desperate resistance, even dragging out the clock, hoping for the game to end quickly so Lin Fei’s point total would remain where it was, sparing them further embarrassment.

On the next Warriors possession, Lin Fei received the ball and initiated the play, trying to calm his heart. He focused on controlling his heartbeat, his breathing, the rhythm of his strides, his dribbling frequency, and even the tempo of his final release, all guided by his own instincts.

Under a screen from his teammates, Lin Fei reached the midcourt line, where three Mavericks players stood directly in his path, forming a defensive wall. Exhausted, Lin Fei felt sweat trickling down his cheeks; no one but he knew how tired he truly was. Perhaps when fully rested, he could have easily broken through two defenders without a screen, but now, he was genuinely drained. His teammates, accustomed to clearing space for him, even hesitated for a moment when they saw him holding the ball.

Perhaps 58 points were already enough to rank in the top five for single-game playoff scoring, far surpassing the previous record for an active player—the 51 points set by the Celtics' Ray Allen. But reality is often cruel; people remember the first, not the second. Just as everyone knows Mount Everest is the world's tallest peak but few know the second, or that Neil Armstrong was the first man on the moon while his successor is largely forgotten, this is a winner-take-all world. Being second is not much different from being last.

Lin Fei understood this. He chased victory, but while prioritizing the win, he would always pursue his own legacy.

Facing the Mavericks' defense at the midcourt line, Lin Fei assessed the situation. With a subtle feint, he left his opponent unsure whether he would shoot or drive. Even tired, Lin Fei’s speed left no time for the defender to react. By the time the opponent realized his intent, Lin Fei had already risen for the shot.

The ball left his hand.

Lin Fei knew it was off. The moment he released it, his heart jolted and his breathing became shallow. He had felt something was wrong as soon as he jumped; he hadn't fully adjusted to his optimal state during his ascent.

His teammates seemed to sense it too, rushing toward the basket to fight for the rebound. The Warriors were the league leaders in offensive rebounds; because of their blistering pace, opponents often couldn't box out in time, and the Warriors' players were full of explosive energy. The bench was no exception.

Lin Fei sprinted forward as well.

At the free-throw line, Jock leaped. He realized that the Mavericks' Haywood had better positioning, so his only chance was to alter the ball's trajectory before Haywood could secure it. Jock and Haywood touched the ball almost simultaneously, but while Haywood intended to pull it into his arms, Jock aimed to deflect it. Haywood only had one objective—to grab the rebound—but for Jock, simply preventing Haywood from getting it was a victory, which was much easier. As expected, Jock tipped the ball with one hand to the perimeter, right into the hands of Lin Fei.

With only Barea within two meters, it was irrelevant; at that distance, anyone was the same to Lin Fei. They had no impact on his offense because his release was swift and accurate. This shot was no exception. Lin Fei fired decisively, and Barea, rushing over from two meters away, felt only helplessness as the shot was released.

As the ball left his hand, Lin Fei’s face was brimming with confidence.

The ball swished cleanly through the net, and all his teammates rushed over to celebrate! It no longer felt like a basketball game. When the gap reached 30 points in the fourth quarter, it ceased to be a mere game—at least to the Warriors. To the Mavericks, it remained a battle of pride and dignity, one they would not take lightly.

Sixty-one points! He had shattered his previous single-game record of 60! It was unthinkable that he would break his scoring record in the high-intensity environment of the playoffs. These 61 points carried significantly more weight than the previous 60. Moreover, Lin Fei had come off the bench, playing fewer than 30 minutes. In this game, Lin Fei had become synonymous with greatness.

One more basket! Lin Fei would make history! Just one more!

Lin Fei was excited, yet he tried to suppress it, knowing this wasn't the final result. Only one more bucket would truly represent a transcendence.

The chant of "Beat Michael Jordan" roared through the arena again; the fans were screaming until their throats were raw. From the Warriors to the Mavericks' bench, every player stood up, eager to witness how Lin Fei would perform his final act. It could be said that this shot carried no less historical significance than a buzzer-beater, for while the league had seen countless game-winners, there would only ever be one single-game playoff scoring record.

Lin Fei held the ball. He moved to his rhythm. The entire arena erupted! The Warriors players waved their arms, cheering him on. For decades, this was undoubtedly the most feverish scene the league had ever witnessed.

Dribbling! Running!

Lin Fei felt as if the massive arena were empty. Whenever he possessed a desperate desire to score and a fierce hunger for victory, the entire arena would fall into a silent trance. It was a feeling he had experienced back in college, and again when he scored 28 points in three minutes—and now, it had returned.

No one saw how he reached the front court, nor how he navigated past two defenders. When people finally spotted him, he was just over a meter beyond the three-point line.

He jumped, raised the ball over his head, took aim, and released it. The ball spun rapidly, with an extraordinary, fluid grace.

Nothing but net.

The officials called a timeout, perhaps just for this moment.

The entire Warriors team flooded the court. Lin Fei was buried in the middle, attempting to embrace his teammates and coaches. On the other side, despite the inevitable loss, Kidd and Nowitzki graciously came over to offer Lin Fei deep, respectful embraces.

The giant screen began replaying Lin Fei’s shots from the game. In the center, a large number was displayed—64. Following it was a string of text and a ranking, prominently showing Lin Fei in first place, with Jordan, just surpassed, in second. There was no need to wonder what it meant.

In that moment, the fans were reminded not just of Jordan, but of many others—Shawn Kemp, Ralph Sampson, Kobe Bryant, Wilt Chamberlain—that long list of legendary names. They began to recount the league's scoring history: Kobe’s 81 points, the ancient record of Chamberlain’s 100. These milestones began to surface in the minds of the fans, one by one.