Sorry, Steph.

Han Sen wasted no time walking up to the woman.

She noticed him too, turning around as their eyes locked.

Up close, Han Sen took in her striking features—a high nose bridge, deep-set eyes, and full lips. What he'd previously admired from a distance now radiated an unmistakable exotic allure. She was unmistakably of Indian descent.

As he admired her, he realized with a start that she was smiling back at him, her expression lighting up her entire face.

Her smile was captivating, but then it struck him—he was staring. Maybe for too long.

Feeling a little awkward, he thought of a way to start a conversation, but before he could, she beat him to it.

"Han?" she asked, her voice carrying a lilting accent.

He blinked, slightly surprised. She recognized him?

In Memphis, it wouldn't have been surprising. But in Oakland? Then it hit him—of course, she was a cheerleader. There was no way she wouldn't know him.

He nodded and decided to go for broke. "Can I get your number?"

The woman froze momentarily before bursting into laughter, covering her mouth with one hand.

Han Sen tilted his head, puzzled.

"You know," she said between chuckles, "you're the first guy I've ever met who asked me for my number straight away like this."

Han Sen couldn't help but laugh as well. "I'm not great at this kind of thing," he admitted. "Honestly, I wanted to say something when I saw you back at Oracle Arena months ago, but I couldn't find you afterward. I didn't want to miss the chance again, so..."

His sincerity caught her off guard. She had to remind herself that this wasn't just any guy—this was Han Sen, a two-time Finals MVP and one of the league's brightest stars.

"You're serious?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her tone.

"Completely," Han Sen said earnestly.

She smiled, extending her hand. Han handed over his phone, and she quickly entered her number before calling herself so her phone would ring. The ringtone—a melodious Indian tune—confirmed her background.

"I'm Anjali," she introduced herself confidently.

"Anjali," Han Sen repeated, the name ringing a faint bell. He couldn't quite place where he'd heard it before, though.

"You here to get a pet?" Han Sen asked casually, now more relaxed.

"No, I just like visiting. I'm still in school, so I don't have time to take care of one," Anjali replied, her tone tinged with regret.

"You're still a student?" Han Sen was a little surprised. His eyes involuntarily drifted downward. Students sure matured well these days.

"Yes, I study at Berkeley," she said.

"Berkeley? That's one of the top music schools, right? You must be really talented," Han Sen said, trying to score extra points.

Ajali's face lit up. Compliments always worked, even on her.

"Oh, right." Han Sen pulled out a few tickets from his pocket. "I've got some extra tickets for tomorrow's game. If you and your friends want to come, feel free."

"Thanks," Anjali said, accepting the tickets graciously.

Just then, someone called out to her from across the store. She glanced back, then turned to Han Sen. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"For sure," Han Sen replied, watching as she walked away.

He stood there for a moment, feeling an unexpected surge of happiness. Somehow, getting her number felt better than hitting a game-winning shot.

He could finally understand Scarlett's words about being proactive when you meet the right person.

"Interesting woman," Rondo said, appearing out of nowhere.

Han Sen glanced at him in confusion.

"She knows you're an NBA superstar, but she didn't act overexcited."

Han Sen shrugged. "She's a cheerleader. She's probably used to seeing NBA players all the time."

"That's exactly why it's weird. If she's used to it, she should've been more impressed—she knows how rich you are."

Rondo gestured to the tickets Han Sen had handed over. "Those seats cost thousands. She took them like they were nothing. Definitely not ordinary."

Han Sen paused, considering Rondo's words. There was some truth to them.

But none of that mattered now. He had her number.

...

The next evening, the Grizzlies faced the Warriors at Oracle Arena.

As Han Sen entered through the tunnel, he scanned the crowd, looking toward the seats where he'd sent Anjali and her friends.

Sure enough, there were a few students sitting there, though they looked far less… developed than Anjali.

Anjali wasn't among them.

Confused, Han Sen continued searching and spotted her instead in the front row.

He was stunned. Those front-row tickets were nearly impossible to get, no matter how much money you had.

Rondo was right—there was something different about her.

What made Han Sen's expression turn icy, though, was her outfit: she was wearing a Warriors jersey—specifically, Steph Curry's #30.

Anjali was a Curry fan?

Han Sen's jaw tightened as he turned his gaze toward the court, locking eyes with Curry.

Curry, warming up, felt a sudden chill run down his spine. He turned and saw Han Sen staring at him like a wolf about to pounce.

Curry hesitated. Han Sen had been dead serious this season, but this felt personal. He still tried to smile and nod, but Han's expression didn't budge.

Han Sen approached Mike Conley before tipoff. "Let's switch assignments. I'll take Curry."

Conley didn't even flinch. Han Sen had been setting the tone all season by guarding the opposition's best player.

The person caught off guard was Curry.

From the first possession, Han Sen was relentless. Off-ball movement? Han Sen shadowed him like a second skin. On-ball plays? Han Sen applied suffocating pressure.

At one point, Curry tried to shake him with a quick dribble move, only for Han Sen to snatch the ball cleanly. Curry, attempting to recover, was dragged to the floor as Han powered through.

On the ensuing fast break, Han Sen slammed down a vicious dunk, flexing toward the crowd in celebration.

Anjali's seat was close enough that she could feel the intensity radiating off him.

Curry, who had trained at Han Sen's camp in the offseason, knew how good Han's defense was. But this was on another level. By the end of the night, Curry—a player averaging 24 points per game—was held to just 9 points.

"Honestly, I think Han has a real shot at becoming the next perimeter player to win DPOY." The commentator couldn't help but express admiration for Han Sen's performance.

For perimeter players, winning the Defensive Player of the Year (DPOY) is much harder than it is for big men. Not only do their stats often look less impressive in comparison, but the defensive challenges they face change every night.

A big man's primary job is to protect the rim, but for perimeter defenders, one night they might face a slasher, the next night a post-up specialist, and then someone who excels at drawing fouls. They also contend with opponents who are taller, faster, or stronger.

The difficulty increased significantly after the NBA introduced the no-handcheck rule, which made it almost impossible for perimeter players to win DPOY.

Yet tonight, Han Sen's defensive adaptability brought back that faint hope.

What's even more remarkable is that Han Sen is also the offensive centerpiece for the Grizzlies. The only other player to dominate on both ends and win DPOY was Michael Jordan.

This is one of the reasons why more people are starting to compare Han Sen to Jordan.

Of course, Han Sen is still far from matching Jordan's accomplishments or skill level, but compared to other 'Next Jordans,' at least Han seems within reach of that legacy.

After the game, when Curry shook hands with Han, his expression was one of feigned innocence.

"Is it too late to switch back to Nike?" Curry joked.

"Steph, this was all to make you stronger," Han replied, patting Curry on the arm.

The 'Verticality Rule' had bolstered the Warriors' performance this season, but Coach Mark Jackson's conservative tactics still held the team back from truly breaking out.

While Steve Kerr's reputation might be somewhat overrated, his offensive system undoubtedly played a key role in the Warriors' later success.

After the game, Han asked Chris Rondo to investigate Anjali's background.

If she wasn't an ordinary person, finding out her identity would be straightforward.

And indeed, the investigation jogged Han Sen's memory.

No wonder her name had seemed vaguely familiar.

Her full name was Anjali Ranadivé, daughter of Vivek Ranadivé, the NBA's first Indian-American team owner.

Last season, Vivek Ranadivé had been a minority owner of the Warriors. However, over the summer, he sold his Warriors shares and led a group to purchase the Sacramento Kings, becoming their majority owner.

It suddenly made sense why Anjali would be a fan of Curry. Vivek joined the Warriors' ownership group in 2010, right as Curry was starting to shine.

It also explained why Han had spotted Anjali performing at Oracle Arena last season but hadn't found her name on the cheerleading roster or encountered her again—she had only temporarily joined the squad for one performance as the owner's daughter.

Now that he knew her identity, Han felt at a bit of a loss on how to proceed further.

When dealing with ordinary people, you could create surprises and romance with money. But when both parties were wealthy, it was all about effort and thoughtfulness.

Still, this revelation added a spark to Han Sen's otherwise mundane life.

This season, he had to play the 'villain' for the Grizzlies, maintaining a serious, aggressive demeanor every time he stepped onto the court. It was like wearing a mask he couldn't take off, even at home.

But now, as he thought about how to win over Anjali, that mask seemed to fall away without him realizing it.

Han followed Anjali on social media and discovered she was someone who genuinely loved life.

Her posts showcased snippets of her vibrant lifestyle—sports photos, scenic travel shots, selfies with animals, and even underwater snaps with marine creatures during diving trips.

The more Han saw, the more his fondness for her grew.

Their conversations were going well, too.

His past experiences with Swift and Scarlett had taught him a lot about relationships.

And Anjali's admiration for Curry wasn't just because of his talent; Curry's looks undoubtedly played a role.

But when it came to looks, Han didn't lose to anyone. His Asian features gave him a unique appeal that seemed to align with Anjali's mixed-race aesthetic preferences.

In just a week, they had already planned to visit the Memphis Zoo together on Christmas.

While Han's personal life was finding its rhythm, the Grizzlies encountered a significant setback.

In late November, during a game against the Spurs, Marc Gasol suffered a Grade 2 MCL sprain. While surgery wasn't necessary, he was out indefinitely, with no clear timetable for his return.

It was Gasol's first major injury in his career. Known for his methodical, 'below-the-rim' playing style, commentators often said such a style could extend his career to age 50.

The injury was unfortunate but not entirely surprising. After the NBA Finals, Gasol had immediately represented Spain in the EuroBasket tournament, leaving his body overworked and fatigued.

This was a common issue for international players, as Yao Ming's career demonstrated.

Gasol's sudden injury was a significant blow to a Grizzlies team that had finally found its groove.

It was not only a test for Kenneth Faried but also for Han Sen.

With the Western Conference as competitive as ever, even the eighth seed might need 50 wins to secure a playoff spot. A losing streak could drop Memphis not just out of the top four but potentially out of the playoffs entirely.

In their first game without Gasol, the Grizzlies lost to their old rivals, the Spurs.

This season, the Spurs had perfected their 'Hammer Action,' excelling on both ends of the court and sitting comfortably atop the Western Conference.

However, there was a silver lining: after the Spurs game, Han Sen's [Death Wrap] defensive talent had finally hit its ceiling.

The Grizzlies' next opponent was the Knicks.

Since it was an away game, the team traveled to New York a day early.

Before departing, a UA executive visited Han Sen in Memphis, presenting a new marketing plan called Operation Guillotine at his residence.

(To be continued)