I made all five of my shots right from the start, and the whole league was stunned.

Miami, Biscayne Bay.

The sunlight, like molten gold, spilled across this azure sea.

A super-luxury yacht bearing the "Stark Industries" flag is quietly moored in the middle of the bay.

This is a private property that Robert Downey Jr. (RDJ) rented to celebrate the completion of filming for the Miami location shoot of "Iron Man 2".

On the deck, melodious music played, and the champagne tower reflected a mesmerizing glow in the sunlight.

After a date with Scarlett last night, they also attended today's party. Li Xiangbei was wearing loose beach shorts, his muscular upper body bare, and sunglasses when he jumped off the connecting boat.

"Hey! Look who's here!"

RDJ walked over, wearing a flashy Hawaiian shirt and holding a half-full glass of champagne.

"Our 'Conqueror'! The way you faked out Wade last night was absolutely amazing! It was even cooler than when I blew up a tank with a miniature missile in a movie!"

RDJ gave Li Xiangbei a warm hug, and his unique Hollywood star charm and affability instantly captivated the entire audience.

Unlike his previous "guest actor" treatment on set, Li Xiangbei is now the absolute protagonist on this ship.

The stunning Victoria's Secret supermodels and the supporting actors still struggling in Hollywood all crowded around, their eyes filled with admiration and curiosity.

After all, the man who single-handedly took on the entire Heat team at American Airlines Arena and won the game last night was standing right in front of them.

"Li! Can I take a picture with you?"

"How did you manage to score 52 points? Aren't you tired?"

Li Xiangbei responded with a smile, his demeanor polite and composed.

He savored the comfort of victory, a rare respite he had from the brutal arena.

……

After the commotion subsided.

Li Xiangbei and RDJ hid in the cigar area on the upper deck of the yacht.

It was much quieter here, with only the sound of waves crashing against the ship.

RDJ cut up an expensive Cuban cigar and handed it to Li Xiangbei.

"Try this, I just got it from Havana."

Li Xiangbei took the cigar, smelled it, savoring the aroma, then tucked it behind his ear. "I don't smoke, but I like the taste. It reminds me of victory. Thanks, Tony."

RDJ smiled, lit his cigar, took a deep drag, and exhaled a ring of blue smoke.

His expression turned serious, the shrewdness of a seasoned Hollywood veteran crept into view, and the mask of his playful grin fell away.

"plum."

RDJ looked at the distant horizon, his tone becoming somewhat like Tony Stark in a movie discussing business.

"I've been in Hollywood for decades, and I've only learned one thing."

"Box office (data) is for the audience; it's for the excitement. But awards (Oscars/MVP)... that's for the capitalists; it's business."

Li Xiangbei's eyes flickered slightly: "What are you trying to say?"

"Nike," RDJ flicked his cigarette ash, "those guys have been on a PR spree in Los Angeles lately. They want to elevate that 'King James' to godlike status. They're determined to win this year's MVP."

"You beat Wade last night and won the scoring title, that's great. But you probably can't beat those old men in their high-rises, wearing bespoke suits. Their pens are more useful than your ball."

Li Xiangbei shook the soda water in his hand, watching the bubbles rise in the glass.

"You mean, off-court factors might determine key honors like MVP?"

"Very likely," RDJ shrugged. "Unless you can produce results that they can't ignore or erase. For example... an absolute advantage in records and statistics, leaving them with no room for error, but that's impossible."

Li Xiangbei laughed, a laugh tinged with rage.

"Then let them watch."

He drank the water in the cup in one gulp.

"I will smash that altar, along with the statues on it, to pieces."

RDJ burst out laughing, slapping his thigh: "I love villainous lines like yours! If Under Armour ever goes bankrupt, don't worry, Stark Industries will take care of you!"

……

As the sun set, the sea was dyed blood red.

Li Xiangbei lay on the private spa area on the top deck of the yacht.

The sea breeze was slightly cool, but he felt a warm sensation on his back.

Scarlett Janssen didn't wear a costume; instead, she changed into a simple white bikini with a sheer veil draped over it.

She held a bottle of essential oil in her hand and was slowly pushing away the shocking bruises on Li Xiangbei's back and shoulders.

Those are the medals I earned last night from the physical battles with Wade and Haslem.

"Does it really have to come to this?"

Scarlett's fingers gently traced a bluish-purple wound, her voice filled with heartache.

She wasn't the aloof female agent in front of the camera; at this moment, she was just an ordinary woman watching her beloved man get hurt.

Li Xiangbei closed his eyes, savoring this rare moment of tenderness.

"This is a battle."

His voice was soft, but firm.

"There are no shortcuts in this alliance. If you want to wear that ring, you have to bleed first."

Scarlett remained silent.

She bent down and gently kissed the bruise.

The warm touch made Li Xiangbei tremble slightly.

"The day you get the ring."

Scarlett leaned close to his ear and whispered.

"I will give you a reward... bigger than this yacht. A reward that belongs only to you."

This tenderness, like that of an old married couple, was more soothing to Li Xiangbei's tense nerves than any passionate encounter.

This was his last haven of comfort before the great battle, and also the driving force that compelled him to win.

……

Good times are always fleeting.

Li Xiangbei was enjoying Scarlett's oil massage when his cell phone, which was on the table next to him, suddenly vibrated.

It was an urgent email from his agent, titled "Urgent: Medical Warning Regarding Zach".

After reading it, Li Xiangbei frowned and then immediately dialed his agent's number.

"Li, something's happened."

On the screen was an encrypted medical email—the latest physical report on Randolph, just sent from the New York Knicks team doctor.

A line of red text stung Li Xiangbei's eyes: "Extremely High Risk of Stress Fracture in Right Ankle".

"Zach's ankle stress response has worsened."

"Lisa (the team doctor) said he's been playing through the discomfort. If he plays two more games at that intensity, even without any contact, that bone will break on its own. If that happens, his entire career might be over."

Li Xiangbei's hand tightened.

That silly fat guy...

"It's a tough choice now," Duffy sighed. "Nike's media offensive is about to begin. They're preparing to attack you as a 'stat padder' and say your scoring title isn't worthwhile. If Randolph rests at this time and the team's record drops, you'll be the target of everyone's criticism. All the blame will be pinned on you."

"You might even be eliminated from the MVP voting."

Li Xiangbei raised his head and looked at the lights of Miami gradually lighting up in the distance. It was a city he had just conquered, but now it seemed somewhat distant.

He remembered Randolph's honest smile in the locker room, and the way he repeatedly set screens, boxed out, and grabbed rebounds for him in the paint.

"To ruin a brother for a trophy?"

"I don't do business that loses money."

"I would advise Mike to let Zach rest. To rest completely until he is fully recovered."

"But Lee..." Duffy cried out, "What would you do then..."

"Tell those who want to see us fail, they'll be disappointed."

Li Xiangbei hung up the phone, put his sunglasses back on, and concealed the murderous intent surging in his eyes.

"Because I will win the battle ahead, even if I am alone."