Chapter 126: Persistence

The team doctor was unable to persuade Lin Fei. Lin Fei stood still, took a long, deep breath, and exhaled quietly. Everyone fell silent, eager to see how he truly felt.

Lin Fei attempted a half-squat. As he tried to perform the movement, a sharp pain shot through him, and sweat began to pour down. Nevertheless, Lin Fei managed to squat down. The doctors began to relax, as being able to squat suggested there was likely no major injury; it was probably just a hard impact when his knee hit the floor—painful, but ultimately causing no damage to the bone.

His knee was visibly bruised instantly, a testament to how heavy the fall had been.

Despite this, the team doctor signaled for Lin Fei to return to the locker room for a thorough examination, just to be safe.

Lin Fei refused, walking back onto the court. He limped slightly, but his gait smoothed out as he moved.

The game had already resumed; both Terry and Cairns had been ejected.

When Lin Fei returned to the court, the entire arena was stunned. This was the Mavericks' home court, and for a moment, the atmosphere seemed to freeze.

Nelson could hardly believe Lin Fei had returned, and everyone’s eyes were fixed on him as he limped back. The players on the Warriors' bench all stood up, staring at him in disbelief.

Lin Fei smiled faintly, walked over to the bench, and gave Nelson an "OK" sign.

The Warriors' morale seemed to have been ignited.

The two free throws following the fouls had been successfully converted by Curry, who had substituted in for Lin Fei.

League rules generally prohibit a coach from replacing a player assigned to take free throws, with two exceptions: First, if a player is accidentally injured after being fouled while shooting and cannot continue, the coach may request a substitution. The opposing coach then designates any player from the bench to take the free throws. The substitute player cannot be replaced until the next dead ball, and the injured player cannot return to the game.

Second, if a player is injured due to an opponent's flagrant foul (such as the Level 2 flagrant foul committed by Smith of the Clippers against Hill of the Spurs), they may designate a substitute to take the free throws, and the injured player is still permitted to return to the game.

Undoubtedly, Terry's foul was a Level 2 flagrant, fitting the second condition perfectly.

Lin Fei sat down on the bench with difficulty, sweat still rolling down his face.

The Mavericks were on offense. With Terry out, the scoring burden fell squarely on Nowitzki. However, he remained unstoppable; facing Job's defense, he hit another jump shot. These are the moments when superstars must step up.

Curry responded for the Warriors with a three-pointer. Lin Fei clapped in approval from the bench.

Lin Fei's return intensified the pressure on the Mavericks.

The Mavericks continued to initiate their offense through Kidd. After a run to the middle, Nowitzki faced a double-team and kicked the ball back out to Kidd. Due to a lapse in Curry's coverage, Kidd found himself wide open. He slowly raised the ball above his head and drained a three-pointer—a veteran's composure indeed.

It seemed the Mavericks were gritting their teeth to win this game. In truth, missing Terry might not have been as catastrophic as many imagined, whereas if the Warriors were missing both Cairns and Lin Fei, their backcourt would be in dire straits, likely running Curry into the ground. Fortunately, Lin Fei staged a classic "Return of the King." This couldn't help but evoke a memory of his mentor, Yao Ming. In the first game of the 2009 Western Conference Semifinals, the Rockets faced the Lakers. In the final quarter, Yao Ming was collided with by Kobe, falling to the floor. While being helped to the locker room, Yao insisted on returning to the court and wasn't subbed out until the final minute of the game. Against all expectations, the Rockets defeated the Lakers and seized home-court advantage. Though Yao was eventually injured, the Rockets still pushed the powerful Lakers to seven games in a magnificent series. Lin Fei seemed to possess that same spirit today, perhaps paying tribute to his retired mentor.

Sitting on the bench, Lin Fei couldn't stay idle; he began to coolly observe the situation on the court. Although he and Cairns—the team's best offensive and defensive guards—were out, the others had stepped up, spreading out the scoring burden and performing even more impressively than when he was the sole focus. Yet, the Warriors had a flaw: when everyone was on the court, it was hard to find the most suitable option. At a glance, everyone seemed ready to catch and shoot, but upon closer inspection, whenever someone caught the ball, the Mavericks' players could close in. While they rarely blocked the shots, they provided strong interference. Many times, the play would reset, and the ball would end up back in the point guard's hands. But Curry was not Lin Fei; his ability to force shots and hit buzzer-beaters couldn't be compared to Lin Fei's. Both Lin Fei and Nelson understood this clearly. In a game against a championship-caliber team like the Mavericks, one needed sufficient offensive firepower. Without Lin Fei, the Warriors might keep pace in scoring, but in a prolonged battle, they would likely be at a disadvantage.

Lin Fei waited.

Whenever Lin Fei grew angry on the court, the game would turn into a scoring feast. Looking back: that 60-point game occurred after someone dunked on him; the 35-point quarter happened while competing for the scoring title against Durant; and the legendary 64-point playoff performance was sparked by Terry's trash talk. Now, facing anger again, what would happen? The league had long since adopted the saying "Don't provoke Lin Fei"—a sentiment once reserved for Kobe, but now equally applicable to him.

Six minutes later, Nelson sent Lin Fei back onto the floor, keeping Curry in to employ a dual-point-guard strategy.

Curry handled the ball, as per Nelson's arrangement. Despite Lin Fei's return, a single foul could easily cause him to lose his rhythm, a common occurrence.

Curry deliberately increased his dribbling speed. He was guarded by Kidd, while Barea defended Lin Fei.

Curry and Lin Fei sprinted forward together, with Lin Fei slightly in the lead.

Just as Curry crossed the half-court line, Lin Fei reached the three-point arc. Curry dribbled to his right and delivered a bounce pass to Lin Fei. Lin Fei caught it on the turn, faced Barea, took a step forward, and drifted into the air. His trajectory seemed tangent to the three-point line. Lin Fei rarely shot immediately upon receiving the ball; many knew he was a player who craved possession—his offensive power reached its peak only when he had the ball in his hands. Even when open, he often took a dribble to find his rhythm. But this time, he shot instantly. This could only mean his desire to score was overwhelming.

The drifting shot took a strange, curved path, but it dropped into the basket just as strangely.

The entire arena was stunned—the legendary Lin Fei, the legendary drifting three-pointer.

If this were the Warriors' home court, the fans would have gone wild. But here, on the Mavericks' home turf, the fans seemed to forget to boo, responding instead with silence followed by applause. It was, without a doubt, a sign of respect. Few players could earn such respect on this court.

The feeling was: The King has returned, and everyone salutes.

Undoubtedly, the next game at the Warriors' home court would be absolutely insane, filled with the Chinese-style scalpers and the "basketball hooligans"—a group born for Lin Fei.

But all of this required one prerequisite: the Warriors had to make it back to their own home court.