Chapter 68: "Twenty-six Points"—Within Reach of the Divine

The scene featuring an all-star lineup invigorated the entire atmosphere of America; this week belonged to the NBA.

The Skills Challenge, as always, was a contest between several rising point guards—Rose, Westbrook, Paul, and Rondo. In truth, the Skills Challenge was merely the opening act, with the Three-Point Contest serving as the main event, and the Dunk Contest as the climactic finale. But this year’s Three-Point Contest promised exceptional excitement, for it featured the league’s most acclaimed shooters: Ray Allen of the Celtics, Matt Bonner of the Spurs, James Jones from the Heat, and Lin Fei from the Warriors. Originally, Curry from the Warriors would have been a formidable contender, but Lin Fei’s three-point prowess was so dazzling that it eclipsed Curry’s own abilities.

Ray Allen was the first to take the stage. Though his shooting motion was relatively slow, his accuracy was astonishing. At the first shooting spot—the left corner—he sank all five shots, earning five points (there are five spots, each with five balls; the last ball at each spot is worth two points, the others one point each). At the left wing, he scored four points. The top of the arc, always the easiest spot, yielded six points. Knowing his speed was slower, Allen intentionally quickened his release at the right wing, but this disrupted his rhythm, and he made only two shots, earning three points. For the right corner, pressed for time, he launched his shots rapidly, sometimes not even jumping; with a buzzer-beater, he got four points. His total was twenty-two—a remarkable score. The crowd erupted in applause, honoring the league’s finest shooter.

Next was Matt Bonner, who scored sixteen points. Third came James Jones, who managed fifteen. Ray Allen was now certain to advance to the finals, while James Jones was eliminated—perhaps his reputation as a three-point shooter was somewhat exaggerated, for on the Heat he merely converted open looks created by their star scorers. Bonner’s fate depended on Lin Fei’s performance.

Amid cheers, the diminutive Lin Fei stepped onto the court. He possessed numerous advantages: his shorter stature meant he could grab the ball quickly; his hands traveled a shorter distance from pickup to release; his release was lightning-fast; and Lin Fei often didn’t need an open shot, being able to create his own opportunities. Under the time constraint, his shots remained closest to his usual form.

“Ready?”

“Yes!” Lin Fei replied, brimming with confidence. For him, this contest posed virtually no difficulty.

The first spot, the right corner, was actually Lin Fei’s weakest. Yet he launched five shots rapidly—at times, it seemed three balls were airborne simultaneously. The first two went in; the third bounced off the rim and collided midair with the fourth, eliciting laughter from the crowd at his misfortune. Lin Fei chuckled as well, but luck returned—the final ball, the two-point money ball, was good, netting four points.

At the second spot, the left wing, his performance improved. Lin Fei steadied himself, missing only the second shot—earning five points. The third spot, the top of the arc, was his stronghold; missing one would be failure. He sank all five, earning six points, prompting gasps from the crowd. If he made just two more shots, he’d advance to the finals.

The fourth spot was Lin Fei’s best—five for five. He played like a marksman, a true sniper. The last spot, the left corner, was unfamiliar territory for Lin Fei, as point guards rarely operate there—it’s the domain of wing players. But pressure was gone; he had twenty-one points, needing only one more to secure first place. His first shot went in, showing his composure. He missed the next three, but on the final ball, Lin Fei paused, released, and scored. Time: fifty-five seconds—unbelievable. His release speed surpassed all other competitors. Lin Fei’s five money balls—all final shots—were perfect. He tallied twenty-four points. The arena boiled over; players rushed to congratulate him on his extraordinary shooting.

The finalists: Ray Allen and Lin Fei. Lin Fei held a slight advantage after the first round. Now, in the finals, only the highest standard would prevail.

Ray Allen, the gentleman of the court, grinned widely—he too marveled at Lin Fei. All his three-point records seemed likely to fall to this newcomer.

The second round began. Ray Allen wiped his sweaty brow and launched the first ball. At the first spot, he made all five—fans rose from their seats. At the second spot, he missed the last ball; at the third, he missed the third shot, making the rest. His release slowed noticeably, perhaps from fatigue. At the fourth spot, he made three, including the money ball. Lin Fei’s first-round record was within reach. At the final spot, Ray Allen suddenly quickened his pace, but in doing so, disrupted his rhythm. Yet he made all five—earning twenty-five points. Astonishing. This was unprecedented. Celtics teammates embraced him, celebrating his greatness.

Lin Fei faced immense pressure. Yet he smiled calmly—it was the All-Star Game, after all; the main purpose was to entertain the fans, and winning or losing mattered little. With this perspective, everything felt easier.

Lin Fei picked up the ball, clearly not fully rested. His shooting was slower than in the first round. At the first spot, he missed the second shot—fans shouted “One,” helping Lin Fei count his misses. The entire crowd stood and counted, reflecting their excitement. Never before had the All-Star Three-Point Contest been so exhilarating or so fiercely competitive—Ray Allen had delivered a legendary performance; now all eyes were on Lin Fei.

Lin Fei made the other four shots at the first spot. At the second, he missed the first—“Two!” echoed throughout the arena. Lin Fei took a deep breath, steadied his heartbeat, and sank the remaining four. The third and fourth spots were his strongholds; in the first round, he missed none, and in the second, he remained exceptionally steady.

The fifth spot, the left corner—earlier, Lin Fei missed three here. How would he fare now?

Lin Fei paused before his first shot, controlling his rhythm. He was exhausted; sweat gleamed on his brow. The first shot went in. The second, too. The third missed. The fourth was off. Now, the last ball—if he made it, he'd win; if not, he'd lose. Lin Fei took another deep breath, exhaled slowly, gazed at the distant rim, leaped high, released—swish! The ball went in. Another perfect, game-winning shot.

The arena erupted again. Never before had a Three-Point Contest been so spectacular.

Ray Allen came up and embraced Lin Fei. Soon, players crowded around, identities lost in the celebration. Lin Fei scored twenty-six points in this Three-Point Contest, setting the all-time record—a feat worthy of the gods.

Perhaps Lin Fei’s championship was long expected, but people wanted to see just how much three-point power this young man could unleash. Today, he exceeded all expectations.

God, this man is soaring—about to touch your hand. How will you respond?