Chapter 5

Between Street Heat and Pro Precision

Early in the morning, New York had not yet fully awakened. A thin mist shrouded the towering skyscrapers, and only a few scattered pedestrians and sparse vehicles remained on the streets. Ze Yu had long since risen, walking alone toward the Nets training facility. In his mind, the shouts and rhythms from last night's streetball court echoed incessantly—those rough, free movements and raw, fervent cheers kept his blood boiling even in the silent night. He remembered the glimmer of anticipation and the unrestrained smiles in the eyes of his streetball brothers at parting—they had promised to come and witness his professional training the next day. It was precisely this call from grassroots basketball that filled him with both gratitude and a deep sense of responsibility: no matter what stage he was on, the soul of basketball must never be lost.

Stepping through the doors of the training facility, Ze Yu took a deep breath of the fresh air, which stood in stark contrast to the polished wooden floor and the neatly arranged training equipment. He looked around and saw his teammates already warming up in their respective areas, their faces etched with sweat and concentration. At that moment, the training facility lacked the casual, wild atmosphere of last night's streetball court, yet every detail exuded the disciplined rigor and scientific approach of professional training—exactly the environment in which he needed to hone himself and elevate his skills.

Before long, Calipari appeared not far from the shooting area, his gaze as sharp as ever, clutching a notebook like a scorecard. "Ze Yu, this morning we're going to focus on fine-tuning your shot rhythm and decision-making ability," he said in a steady yet forceful tone. "The passion of last night's streetball is indeed invigorating, but here, you must execute every movement with utmost precision."

Ze Yu nodded, silently calculating the day's training content. First, he began a series of high-intensity shooting and dribbling drills as directed by the coach. In the early stages of training, he weaved between several fixed shooting spots, constantly adjusting his shooting form; every shot he took was an effort to render his movements as smooth and stable as possible. The ball spun in his hands and struck the floor with a crisp sound, and each time it swished through the net, it served as a reminder—success comes from countless repetitions of diligent practice.

Just as he was completely absorbed in his technical work, a murmur and a stifled laugh drifted in from the entrance hall. Ze Yu looked up to see a group of streetball players—clad in loose athletic wear and wearing worn sneakers—gathered outside the glass door, their expressions filled with both curiosity and excitement. It turned out that his words from last night on the streetball court, "Come see how professional players train tomorrow," had taken hold, and these streetball brothers had arrived as promised.

Among them, a tall player with determined eyes stepped forward and shouted loudly, "Yo, Ze Yu! We're here to see how the pros do it!" His tone carried both a challenge and admiration, drawing the attention of those nearby. A smile flickered in Ze Yu's eyes as he responded to the call, his voice ringing out, "Welcome in, but please respect our training environment and learn about true professional spirit!"

This brief exchange immediately caught the coach's attention. Calipari walked toward the glass door and nodded slightly at the group of streetball players, saying, "This is a professional training facility. We welcome anyone with a passion for basketball, but please remain quiet and do not disturb the players' training." The tall player smiled and replied, "Don't worry, Coach, we're just here to observe and learn, not to cause any trouble." In that moment, two entirely different basketball cultures collided at the pristine entrance—on one side, the scientific discipline of NBA training, and on the other, the creative, free-spirited nature of streetball.

For the remainder of the session, Ze Yu focused even more intently. He absorbed Calipari's instructions and embarked on high-intensity individual technical drills. First came a full-court fast break and penetration simulation, where the coach required him to make split-second decisions while dribbling at high speed—using feints to shake off defenders before quickly passing to teammates in position. Throughout the drill, Calipari continuously corrected his footwork and hand movements: "Keep your rhythm even, lower your center of gravity, don't overexert your force, and let your movements be natural and fluid." Every word echoed in his ears, making him keenly aware that every bit of progress was hard-won.

At that moment, outside the glass, the streetball players had already gathered at the facility's entrance, their eyes intently following every move inside. They whispered among themselves—some praising Ze Yu's precise shooting, others marveling at his rapid decision-making, and many simply curious about this form of professional training. The tall player occasionally exchanged glances with those beside him, murmuring, "Look at his movements; every detail has been meticulously refined. It's completely different from our spontaneous play on the streets, but it's precisely this fine craftsmanship that produces top-tier players."

As the training progressed, Calipari arranged the final, most challenging drill—a simulated full-court pressure offensive-defense confrontation. Instantly, the gym grew tense. Teammates were assigned specific roles, and the interplay between offense and defense tested each player's ability to react on the fly. Standing on the court, Ze Yu was forced to make split-second decisions amidst the dense defensive pressure. During one offensive play, when confronted by a double team, he suddenly drove forward; first, he executed a feint to shake off one of the defenders, then immediately delivered a precise pass to a teammate cutting in from the side. At that moment, his decision-making and execution earned high praise from both the coach and his teammates, and even the streetball players watching through the glass erupted in a round of low, approving applause and exclamations.

After the simulated confrontation ended, a sense of tired satisfaction filled the training facility. Calipari approached Ze Yu, who was wiping sweat and tidying up his gear, and patted him on the shoulder. "Today, your performance has improved significantly, especially your passing choices during fast breaks and your calmness under pressure—keep it up." Ze Yu nodded in response, silently calculating how he might translate today's training gains into on-court advantages in the upcoming games.

Not long after the training concluded, the group of streetball players quietly left the observation area. As they exited the facility, they murmured among themselves, "Today was truly eye-opening; professional players' training can be so full of wisdom and power." The tall player looked back toward the training facility one more time, a complex expression flickering in his eyes—as if pondering the fusion of these two basketball cultures and what it might mean for the future.

Quiet Reflections

After training ended, teammates gradually gathered their gear and left the training facility. It was already late morning, and sunlight streamed through the glass windows into the spacious gym, leaving traces of sweat on the floor. Calipari had given each player a brief review in the locker room, commending everyone on their performance during the simulated confrontation. Meanwhile, Ze Yu found a quiet corner to carefully peruse the detailed notes he had taken during today's training, pondering how to perfect every breakthrough and every pass.

Standing before the mirror, Ze Yu looked at his slightly tired yet resolute reflection and silently vowed that in the upcoming games, he would perfect every detail and forge his own legend with sweat.

By evening, New York had gradually been draped in a soft twilight. Once back at his apartment, Ze Yu couldn't wait to fire up his computer and review the day's footage. On the screen, every move and every decision made in the training facility was clearly visible—the high-intensity breakthroughs, the decisive passes, and his cool handling of double-teams. Every frame reminded him that there were no shortcuts on the road to growth; only constant grinding and reflection could make him even better.

At that moment, he received a text from the assistant coach: "Tonight, review the footage, analyze every detail of today's training, and patch up any gaps." This message filled him with both a heavy sense of responsibility and a renewed passion for basketball. So, he closed the curtains, dimmed the lights to a soft glow, and began a careful replay. With every brilliant moment reappearing on the screen, he kept asking himself: What else can I do better? How can I create another masterpiece against the next opponent?

Late into the night, as New York's clamor gradually subsided and only the soft glow of his computer screen illuminated his profile, Ze Yu finally set aside his work. Leaning back in his chair, he savored the memory of every drop of sweat and every breakthrough achieved during the day's training. The images of those streetball players remained vivid in his mind—they had come with genuine, unadorned anticipation to witness how a young player continually surpassed himself through rigorous professional training. That raw passion and determination from the streets was precisely the driving force that kept him moving forward.

He gently closed his computer, turned off the lights, and sat by the window gazing at the twinkling city lights in the distance. In that quiet moment, a single conviction filled his heart: no matter how grueling the next games might be, no matter how demanding the system's tasks, he would face every battle with unwavering determination and boundless enthusiasm. Every night's reflection, every single second of diligent training, was an indispensable step on the path to the pinnacle of basketball.

Time passed silently, and in that stillness, Ze Yu quietly told himself, "On this road to becoming a legend, each day is a new beginning. As long as I give my all, the dawn will eventually come for me." This resolve filled him with an inner peace and steadfast determination—he knew that on tomorrow's court, he would once again don his gear and let his actions honor every ounce of effort and sweat invested today.

In the depths of that somber night, Ze Yu closed his eyes, his heart brimming with infinite hope for the future. Basketball was not just his dream; it was his faith—a constant challenge to himself to surpass every limit. As he silently repeated in his heart, "As long as I persevere, the future will surely belong to those brave enough to chase their dreams."

The Calm Before the Storm

The tension in the team's conference room was palpable. Under the soft glow of the lights, Coach Calipari stood before a whiteboard, marking key opponent strategies with his marker. The screen beside him flickered with data—numbers that told the story of the Bulls Dynasty's dominance: an impenetrable defense, a fluid and unpredictable offense, and a legendary leader whose sheer presence commanded respect across the league.

"Listen up," Calipari's voice was steady yet forceful. "Tomorrow, we face the most dominant team of the season—the Bulls Dynasty. Look at their defensive pressure, their synchronized offensive execution. No team we've trained against has even come close to this level."

A low murmur spread across the room as teammates exchanged glances. Ze Yu, however, remained focused, his pen swiftly moving across his notebook. He knew this game wasn't just about tactics and execution—it was a battle of will and composure.

"We have to stay calm," Calipari continued. "Don't let their accolades intimidate you. Remember, we've trained for adaptability and teamwork. Every precise pass, every decisive drive—that's our arsenal."

Ze Yu scanned his teammates, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. The raw, untamed joy he once felt on street courts was a stark contrast to the meticulous discipline of professional training, yet it was that same love for the game that fueled his defiance in the face of overwhelming odds.

After the meeting, Ze Yu lingered outside the conference room, eventually making his way to the far end of the hallway. Gazing out at the bustling New York skyline, he saw glimpses of his past self—hustling on the streets of Los Angeles, playing for pride and survival. Now, that same drive was pushing him toward an even greater battle, one that would soon unfold under the brightest of lights.

"Against the Bulls Dynasty, I have to be sharper, more precise. Every detail must be perfected. Only then will I be worthy of this challenge."

As dawn broke on game day, the team gathered at the training facility for their final warm-ups. The gym echoed with the rhythmic sounds of sneakers squeaking on hardwood, basketballs bouncing, and Calipari's sharp instructions cutting through the tense atmosphere. Excitement and pressure hung thick in the air.

Pacing along the sideline, Calipari carefully observed his players, occasionally pulling Ze Yu aside for a quiet discussion.

"When they double-team you, find the open space immediately," he advised in a low voice. "Use quick ball movement and precision shooting to break through their defense. They're relentless—don't panic. Outsmart them."

Ze Yu nodded, mentally engraving every key point into his mind. He played out different scenarios in his head: the moment their defense collapsed onto him, how he'd read his teammates' cuts, when to attack, when to pass. His focus was razor-sharp—he could already picture the battle unfolding on the court.

By midday, the team ran through their final tactical drills. Under the bright gym lights, the crisp white of their jerseys stood out as they executed fast-paced simulations, reinforcing every strategy they had rehearsed. Ze Yu, stepping into his playmaker role, delivered passes with pinpoint accuracy, his chemistry with teammates drawing approving nods from Calipari.

Back in the locker room, the team buzzed with quiet conversations about their looming opponents.

Gill, his voice low and steady, remarked, "The Bulls win with discipline and suffocating defense. Every move they make is calculated. We have to be just as precise."

Another younger player, equal parts anxious and eager, chimed in, "I heard they play with an insane level of intensity. We'll need to bring everything we've got just to keep up."

The weight of their words hung in the air. Everyone knew that tomorrow's game wasn't just another matchup—it was a proving ground. Ze Yu sat in silent contemplation, Calipari's words replaying in his mind. He understood that his growth wasn't just about racking up stats; it was about molding a mindset capable of thriving in the most unforgiving battles.

As the final pre-game meeting commenced, Calipari stepped into the locker room, his gaze sweeping across each player. His voice carried both resolve and challenge.

"The Bulls Dynasty didn't build their legacy on luck. They built it on championship DNA and unshakable grit. Today, you must be more than just skilled—you must be united. Every possession matters. Stick to the plan, trust your teammates, and execute with precision. That's how we win."

A charged silence filled the room, the collective fire within the team igniting. Ze Yu exhaled slowly, locking eyes with his own reflection in the mirror. Determination burned behind his gaze. He knew this game would be one of the toughest of his career, but every moment against the Bulls would forge him into something greater.

With Calipari's final words still ringing in their ears, the team rose, one by one, stepping out of the locker room and into the tunnel leading to the arena. The night air was sharp with winter's chill, but inside their hearts, a relentless fire burned. The game had yet to start, but the intensity of the impending battle had already gripped the entire stadium.

Above them, the New York sky darkened as night fell, while the court awaited its players. This wasn't just another game. It was a test of passion, intelligence, and unwavering belief.

For Ze Yu and his teammates, this was more than a prelude to battle. It was a rite of passage, a chance to etch their names in the annals of basketball history.

And as they stepped onto the floor, the challenge of the Bulls Dynasty awaited.