Staples Center glowed against the Los Angeles night, its lights washing the pavent in gold and purple. Lin Yi stood just outside the main entrance, jacket zipped halfway, silver marker in hand.
Fans had ford a loose circle around him. So held jerseys, others ga programs, and a few just stretched out their phones and hoped for a quick photo. Security kept a respectful distance. Paparazzi were posted at different angles, crouched near pillars, leaning against parked cars, caras flashing in short bursts.
"Lin, over here!"
"Can you sign this?"
"Just one more, please!"
He moved down the line patiently, signing his na in quick, practiced strokes. A kid in a faded Knicks jersey handed him a cap with shaking hands.
"Make it out to Daniel," the boy said.
Lin Yi nodded. "You got it."
When he finished a few more autographs, the small crowd erupted into soft cheers.
"Thank you, Lin!"
"Thank you so much!"
He capped the marker and smiled. "No worries. You're the reason we get to do this."
Right then, a sharp horn cut through the mont.
Beep. Beep.
Lin Yi flinched slightly, shoulders tightening as he turned toward the street. A black car had rolled up alongside the curb, engine humming low.
The window slid down.
Kobe Bryant sat behind the wheel, one arm resting casually on the door, a smirk already forming.
Lin Yi narrowed his eyes.
The fans around them gasped. A few caras shifted instantly, flashes popping faster now.
Kobe tilted his head toward the passenger seat. "You done being a superstar out here?"
Lin Yi walked over, opened the door, and slid into the seat. As soon as he shut it, he shot Kobe a long, unimpressed look.
"You trying to give a heart attack?" Lin Yi asked.
Kobe shrugged, easing the car back into traffic. "Consider it a little payback."
"For what?"
"For that blowout," Kobe replied calmly. "You didn't have to embarrass us on Christmas."
Lin Yi leaned back, still giving him a side eye. "You call that embarrassing? I thought you liked challenges."
Kobe's smirk widened. "Oh, I do. Just don't think I forgot."
The car rged into the Los Angeles night, flashes fading behind them as Staples Center grew smaller in the rearview mirror.
"My girls have been asking about you. They want to see if you're actually real."
Lin Yi laughed. "If I disappoint them, that's on you."
"Trust ," Kobe replied. "They'll be fine."
The next day was a rest day, so Lin Yi asked the team for one more day in Los Angeles before heading back to New York.
As he rembered, Kobe and Vanessa had fully reconciled. When Kobe walked in with Lin Yi, Vanessa paused for a second. She had watched the Christmas ga and was prepared to console a frustrated husband after a tough loss. Instead, Kobe walked in smiling, relaxed, even joking.
It caught her off guard.
She studied him for a mont, almost as if she were trying to confirm this was the sa man who had just lost on national television.
Dinner at the Bryant house was warm and lively. Vanessa had set the table carefully, and Kobe seed more relaxed than he had been all day. They talked about the ga, about travel schedules, about how different the league felt compared to a few years ago. Laughter ca easily.
Across the table, though, Kobe's two daughters were unusually quiet.
Lin Yi had noticed it the mont he walked in. They had stood near the doorway, peeking from behind their mother, eyes fixed on him from head to toe. No greeting, no shy wave. Just intense observation. Even after everyone sat down, they kept sneaking glances at him between bites.
While Kobe was in the middle of explaining a late-ga possession, Lin Yi caught both girls staring again. He paused mid-sentence, waited until they realized he was looking back, and then suddenly puffed his cheeks and crossed his eyes.
It was quick and completely unexpected.
Both girls froze for half a second, then burst into laughter.
Kobe stopped talking and looked from his daughters to Lin Yi. "What did I miss?"
"You're losing your audience," Lin Yi said calmly.
Vanessa shook her head, smiling.
The older one, Natalia Diamante Bryant, leaned forward, finally finding her voice.
"Why are you so tall?" she asked seriously. "And so big?"
Lin Yi raised an eyebrow. "Big?"
She nodded firmly.
Without missing a beat, Lin Yi lifted one arm and flexed, exaggerating the motion just enough to make it funny.
"Milk," he said. "You have to drink a lot of milk."
Both girls stared at his arm, eyes widening.
The younger one, Gianna Maria-Onore Bryant, tilted her head. "Can we get that big, too?"
Lin Yi lowered his arm and nodded with equal seriousness. "Of course. Drink your milk. And listen to your parents."
Kobe coughed lightly. "That second part is more important."
Gianna looked at her father, then back at Lin Yi, as if weighing the advice.
"Both are important," Lin Yi added, keeping a straight face.
That earned another round of laughter.
From there, the tension was gone. The girls started asking normal kid questions.
How much do you eat?
Do you have to practice every day?
Are you stronger than Daddy?
Lin Yi answered patiently, occasionally glancing at Kobe before responding to that last one.
"Your dad is still strong," he said carefully. "Very strong."
Kobe gave him a look that said good answer.
As dinner wrapped up, Lin Yi reached into his bag and pulled out a marker.
"Before I go," he said, "do you two have anything I can sign?"
They ran off and ca back with small Lakers jerseys, holding them out proudly.
Lin Yi carefully signed both, adding short ssages under his na. When he handed them back, each girl gave him a quick hug without hesitation.
"Thank you," Natalia said.
Gianna squeezed him tighter. "I'm drinking all my milk tomorrow."
"You better," Lin Yi replied.
Kobe watched the exchange quietly, arms folded, a faint smile on his face.
Vanessa watched all this silently from the corner, smiling.
It was Lin. Soone with a similar work ethic, attitude, and who was warr really helped balance his husband out.
For that, she was grateful.
Before Lin Yi left, she walked him to the door.
"Thank you, Lin," she said sincerely, giving him a light cheek kiss. "I will be expecting the little ones soon. You are a natural."
Cough Cough
Lin Yi blushed while rising. " Hm-hm. Liz and I are working on it.
He then looked towards Kobe, who was behind them, and said, "He's going to run into a lot this season. But as long as you're with him, he'll handle it."
Vanessa smiled. "I will. And give my regards to Liz."
Kobe stood a few steps behind them, hands in his pockets, pretending not to listen. The look on his face made it clear he had heard every word.
Christmas gas wrapped up with plenty of headlines.
Stephen Curry had hit 11 threes on Christmas and led the Warriors to a win. Under normal circumstances, that would have owned the news cycle.
Except it did not.
Klay Thompson had dropped 60 points in three quarters the night before.
Curry opened his phone and saw the ssages piling up.
Harden texted first. "Sixty in three-quarters. Steph, that's different."
DeRozan chid in. "Eleven threes is nice. But that stat was a video ga."
Even Griffin, who was clearly not spending his holiday alone, jumped in. "Wait. Sixty in three? Was that Lin or Klay?"
Curry fired back in the group chat. "@LinYi, say sothing. Be fair."
Lin Yi stared at his screen.
He typed. Deleted and typed again.
Then he sent a single line.
"Both of you relax."
Curry and Klay had started to treat each other like permanent rivals. It was half serious, half performance, but the edge was real.
After his 60-point explosion, Klay did not hold back in interviews either.
"I think today's performance was unbelievable," he said. "I practice hard, and this is the fruit of my efforts. More will be coming."
Confidence was growing fast.
He also made sure to ntion Lin Yi.
"You don't really get how good Lin is until you play with him," Klay said. "He tells to keep shooting. Every ti. Without that trust, I'm not here. Honestly, even if I had to take less money one day, I'd still want to play with him."
For a young scorer, opportunity ant everything. Lin Yi's willingness to hand over possessions on Christmas Eve had done more for Klay's confidence than any speech.
With 60 points in three quarters, Klay was suddenly being called the Knicks' third star. Analysts pointed out that he was averaging 18.7 points per ga on 48.7 percent shooting and 45.1 percent from three. He was productive and efficient.
So were already calling for him to be nad an Eastern Conference All-Star reserve.
Others went further.
"This Knicks team," one comntator said, "might be unbeatable."
Another added, "A guy averaging nearly 20 a night is coming off the bench. That's excessive."
Lin Yi knew what that ant. If Klay kept this up and did not win Sixth Man of the Year, the league office would feel the heat. Last year, there had been competition. This year, the numbers were overwhelming.
On TNT, Charles, with his usual glazing, slid in on the topic.
"This Knicks roster has four or five elite offensive weapons," he said. "The bench might be the most talented in the league. Lin is having the best season of his career. I honestly don't see anyone stopping them."
Lin Yi shook his head when he watched it.
He understood that building a dynasty ant becoming the league's target. Every scouting report would grow thicker. Every regular-season ga would feel personal.
He smiled.
One day, when his career was over, he would rember this stretch.
The whole league is studying him.
The whole league trying to solve him.
That was not pressure.
That was proof.
His journey to beco unplayable.
. . .
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