After wrapping up a few quick interviews, Zhao Dong headed back into the locker room.
"Dazhi, how you feelin'?"
Seeing Dazhi leaning dazed against the locker, Zhao Dong sat down beside him and asked with a light tone.
"Oh, Brother Dong."
Dazhi quickly sat up, a little flustered. "Man, that matchup was intense. Garnett's on another level. I tried pushing him from behind and ended up eating a few elbows."
Zhao Dong chuckled. "Welcome to the NBA. Catching an elbow here's like sipping tea back home."
Then he glanced over curiously. "But I didn't see you throw any. Didn't the trainer I got for you teach you how to give one back?"
Dazhi scratched his head awkwardly. "I… I guess I still suck at it."
Zhao Dong shook his head. "Out here, elbows are tools. Use 'em right, you carve out space. Of course, don't be throwing 'em around like Karl Malone, or you'll run into someone like me and get clamped."
"I got it, Brother Dong," Dazhi said seriously.
Zhao Dong nodded. "Next game, I've got a task for you."
"Huh?"
"I wanna see at least three elbows from you. I don't care if it's on offense or defense—just give me three clean ones."
"…Three?!"
Dazhi's jaw dropped. That was definitely a challenge.
---
November 20 – The Next Day
The Knicks were back home, hosting a rematch against the Philadelphia.
Last game, Coach Nelson had only given Dazhi about 14 minutes of burn, and he wasn't in the starting five this time either.
Honestly, Dazhi was a bit relieved. If he started again, he might end up having to face Karl Malone straight-up.
Even though the Mailman looked like a house cat in front of Zhao Dong, he was still the notorious "Doctor of Iron Elbows" to everyone else. One swing from him could wreck Dazhi's entire week.
Philadelphia Starters:
Theo Ratliff, Karl Malone, George Lynch, Allen Iverson, Eric Snow
Knicks Starters:
Ben Wallace, Danny Fortson, Zhao Dong, Latrell Sprewell, Chauncey Billups
CCTV didn't air this one live, but NBC had the game streaming across the U.S.
In the commentary booth, Marv Albert and Matt Goukas were on the call.
Marv Albert spoke first, "Interesting shift in the lineup—Coach Nelson's brought Fortson back to the starting five. Is he planning to have him bang bodies with Karl Malone?"
Goukas nodded. "Danny Fortson's a bruiser. Straight-up beast on the floor. If Zhao Dong weren't around, he might've led the league in techs last year—right behind Rasheed Wallace. Even so, he finished second in technical fouls.
If Nelson wants someone to go toe-to-toe with Karl, Fortson might just be the perfect guy. He's not afraid of catching an elbow—or throwing one back."
Marv chuckled. "And so far this season, Fortson hasn't picked up a single tech. That's growth right there.
His offense might be limited, but defensively, he brings serious energy. If he can hold down the paint and neutralize Malone, Zhao Dong can go all out on both ends."
Goukas added, "Exactly. Without Karl clogging things up, Zhao Dong can dominate both ends—lock down on defense, then torch them on offense.
This lineup shift might just be Nelson's chess move against the Philliy."
Marv nodded. "The 76ers been undefeated—except for that one L against the Knicks. They've got a strong core, no doubt. But to be in that title-contender tier with the Bulls, Spurs, Lakers, and Knicks, they've still gotta prove themselves."
Goukas chimed in again. "For sure. That inside-out duo of Malone and Iverson is lethal on paper. But like we said, they still need more tests to show they belong in that elite bracket."
---
Behind the baseline, CCTV's Zhang Heli, Sun Zhenping, and Yang Yi chatted off-air.
"I'm honestly glad I didn't start again," Zhang Heli muttered.
"Same. Getting thrown into the fire with the Knicks right off the bat? That's how you get roasted," Sun Zhenping replied with a grin.
Yang Yi sat next to them, arms crossed. "I'm just curious how long Dazhi lasts tonight."
"Probably around ten minutes again," Sun said thoughtfully.
Zhang nodded. "With Zhao Dong leading the team, they don't have much offensive spark inside besides him. So there's still an opening for Dazhi to shine a little."
---
Meanwhile, in the 76ers locker room, things felt tense.
Ever since their loss to the Knicks, the vibe had been off. There was less talk—especially between Malone, Iverson, and Head Coach Larry Brown.
In particular, the tension between Iverson and Karl Malone had grown obvious. The two barely exchanged words, and everyone could feel the cold war brewing.
Karl knew the deal. He had too much locker room weight. His presence alone silenced the room—even Larry Brown didn't dare challenge him directly.
But deep down, Karl was frustrated.
"This ain't it," he thought. "I came here for a ring, not to battle a rookie for leadership."
He made up his mind—he had to talk to Iverson.
"You guys step out for a minute. I gotta talk to Allen," he said to the rest of the team.
"Huh?"
Everyone froze. Was Malone about to throw hands with Iverson?!
Iverson looked just as surprised—but he wasn't worried. Their issues hadn't reached that level. It was just silence and ego, not beef.
Outside the room, Coach Larry Brown and GM Ernie Grunfeld exchanged a glance as the others filed out.
They were both worried. They knew if those two didn't work things out, this team wouldn't last until the All-Star break.
If the locker room actually imploded, then the whole "Philadelphia" was toast. The so-called "Email Combo" they just formed? That'd be dead on arrival.
"Karl, what are you trying to say?"
Inside the room, Allen Iverson—normally the quiet one—broke the silence.
Karl Malone, the Mailman himself, looked Iverson dead in the eye. There was a flicker of hesitation before he finally spoke.
"Allen, I'll make you a promise. If we win the championship, I'll leave. I'll walk away from this squad, no questions asked."
"…"
Iverson's eyes lit up.
Truth was, the beef between him and Malone was never about the game itself—it was all locker room politics. Control. Leadership. That kind of stuff.
Malone didn't need the ball to be effective. He wasn't taking away touches from Iverson. Snow was running the point this season, focusing more on playmaking than scoring, so Iverson still got his looks. Playing off the ball as a shooting guard wasn't bad at all.
Malone stepped forward, extending his hand. "Let's get this ring. Let's prove ourselves to Zhao Dong."
Iverson stood up, grabbed his hand, and nodded. "Let's get it done. For the chip. For Zhao Dong."
They even hooked pinkies.
No words needed. The smile they exchanged said it all.
Meanwhile, in the Knicks' locker room, Zhao Dong opened up his system interface. Still no missions? He even tried sending an email—nothing. Was this system bugged this season?
"System, I get why Karl doesn't have a mission, but the Email Combo is stacked. Why isn't there a challenge for me?"
"The so-called Email Combo poses no real threat to the host. Therefore, no mission is required."
Zhao Dong blinked. "You rate me that highly?"
"No. The system just doesn't like the Email Combo."
"Man, what the hell!"
He was genuinely stunned when he saw Karl and Iverson out there smiling. In his past life, both dudes were serious as hell. Seeing them grin like that was like seeing a ghost.
"You two…" Zhao Dong pointed at them, narrowed his eyes, and said the wildest thing:
"Yo, y'all gay or something?"
"…"
Boom. Dead silence. The air froze.
"Zhao Dong! I'm gonna meet you at the rim—and we're turning this into wrestling!" Karl barked, furious.
Iverson looked like he was about to throw up blood, his glare sharp enough to slice. He looked ready to tackle Zhao Dong on the spot.
"Pfft!"
Someone in the back couldn't hold it. Then—
"HAHAHAHA!"
The whole hallway erupted in laughter—everyone except the Email Combo.
---
Tip-off. Game time.
The crowd roared as the opening whistle blew. The Knicks started on defense.
As expected, Danny Fortson got assigned to guard Karl Malone. The dude was physical—overly so. He wasn't just sticking to Malone on post-ups; he was using his elbows, digging into Karl's lower back. Even Malone winced.
Over on the bench, Wang Zhizhi—or "Dazhi," as they called him in China—watched, his eyes narrowing.
Malone couldn't find space on that play. Meanwhile, Iverson shook free of his defender and slashed toward the right wing. Snow found him with a clean dish.
But as soon as Iverson caught the ball—bam! Zhao Dong was right there on the help defense. And just behind him, Latrell (the Madman) came swooping in for the double-team.
"Predictable," Zhao Dong muttered.
Iverson pulled up for a tough jumper, but Zhao Dong tipped the ball mid-shot—soft touch, not a full block. He redirected it toward Karl, who caught it in stride, spun around, and threw down a nasty dunk.
BOOM!
By the 9th minute, the scoreboard read: Knicks 21, 76ers 10. Timeout, 76ers
Zhao Dong was cooking. He'd completely taken over both ends of the floor. In just 9 minutes, he had:
11 points (4/5 FG, 3/3 FT)
2 blocks
1 steal
2 assists
With Fortson glued to Malone like a backpack, Iverson couldn't do much. Zhao Dong kept rotating over on help defense, forcing Iverson into off-balance shots near the three-point line. He was 2 of 8 from the field with 2 turnovers, scoring just 6 points.
Up at the booth, Marv Albert chimed in:
"You see that? Just like we talked about—Nelson sent Fortson to bully Karl Malone and free up Zhao Dong to dominate."
Matt Goukas added, "It's a double-edged sword though. Fortson's got 2 fouls already, and we're not even outta the first quarter. He's not lasting long if this keeps up."
And sure enough, Fortson sat down, his face tight with frustration. Two early fouls meant his minutes were cooked. He'd be lucky to play 20 minutes tonight.
Timeout ended. Dazhi stepped in to replace Fortson, matching up with Malone.
Philadelphia brought the ball up. Iverson took it, dribbled to the right elbow of the paint, drawing Zhao Dong up for the defensive switch.
But then—bam! No-look dish to the left wing.
Malone caught it clean and rose for a jump shot.
"Dazhi couldn't hold it down, and Karl Malone finally got his opening," said Matt Goukas with a sigh.
"The current Dazhi just isn't built to stop Malone. Zhao Dong's gotta take over that matchup himself," Marv Albert added.
But Zhao Dong didn't switch. He still left Dazhi to deal with Malone one-on-one.
"Dazhi, if you can't fight back, then get ready to pack your bags and head back to China to play in the CBA," Zhao Dong shouted coldly from the paint. "Don't waste your damn time here in the NBA."
Gritting his teeth, Dazhi gave a sharp nod.
Back on offense, he planted himself deep on the left block. Zhao Dong caught the inbound from Charlie Ward and quickly dished it into the post.
Dazhi caught it clean with his left hand, pivoted hard, and swung his right elbow back—bam! It connected flush with Malone's chin.
"Ugh!" Malone grunted, stumbling slightly as his eyes watered from the hit.
"Ohhh!" The Knicks crowd erupted, part gasping, part cheering. Surprisingly, a lot of fans actually applauded Dazhi's retaliation.
But the shot didn't go in. Theo Ratliff had rotated over and smothered the attempt, sending it back.
Zhao Dong, though, was right there. He snatched the rebound mid-air and went up strong—BOOM! A two-handed jam right over Ratliff, knocking the big man to the floor.
"Snort!" Malone wiped his eyes, glaring at Dazhi before jogging up the court with clenched fists.
"Two more," Zhao Dong called out calmly, flashing two fingers at Dazhi.
"Heh!" Dazhi chuckled, starting to feel like throwing elbows wasn't that hard after all.
But his smile didn't last.
Malone wasn't scared of him—just Zhao Dong. And now, he came back with a vengeance, using his iron elbows to pound Dazhi on every post-up. The hits made Dazhi wince, but Malone held back just enough, not daring to go for the kill shots with Zhao Dong watching closely.
By the end of the first quarter, Dazhi had landed another elbow on Malone. Even though he took more punishment in return, just being able to strike back was a huge step.
He played through the first half of the second quarter before being subbed out. He didn't return the rest of the night.
Mission complete: three elbows thrown. But he also took six nasty ones himself. When he lifted his jersey, purple and red bruises bloomed across his chest and stomach.
As Dazhi sat on the bench, Fordson checked in and picked up right where he left off—elbowing Malone and giving him a full headache.
Zhao Dong kept his foot on the gas on both ends, blowing up the 76ers.
But by the sixth minute of the third quarter, Fordson had fouled out.
Even though he got cooked, Malone didn't benefit much either—because Zhao Dong was still breathing down his neck.
Down the stretch, Zhao Dong focused hard on locking up Malone. That meant less help defense on the perimeter, so Allen Iverson got a little more room to operate—but it wasn't enough. He couldn't carry the whole squad, and the Philadelphia crumbled. By the end of the third, the Knicks were up by 25.
After the game, Hubie Brown said during the postgame show: "The Malone-Iverson combo is explosive on paper. But against the Knicks? Malone's impact is neutralized, and it's hard to win that way."
Ernie Grunfeld chimed in: "Final score: 106 to 75. A 31-point blowout. Worse than last game."
Brown nodded. "Before Fordson fouled out, Zhao Dong's help defense on Iverson was suffocating. That forced both their main scorers into low efficiency, and once that happened, the score gap was guaranteed to stretch."
Back in the locker room, Iverson slumped in front of his locker, frustrated.
"Coach," he asked Larry Brown, "how the hell are we supposed to beat the Knicks—and Zhao Dong?"
Larry Brown sighed. "Defense. We need stronger team defense. Starting tomorrow, we're working on zone."
"Zone defense?" Iverson's eyes lit up with hope.
Meanwhile, in the Knicks locker room, Zhao Dong walked over to Dazhi.
"You ready to go head-to-head with Malone again next time?" he asked.
Dazhi swallowed, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm not scared. Bring it on."
Zhao Dong nodded back. "Good. Today was about testing your guts. Next time, I won't have you brawling like that."
"Huh?" Dazhi blinked in surprise.
"I mean on offense," Zhao Dong clarified. "You've got your own skillset. Play your game your way. But on defense—if you're guarding Malone, you've got to hold your ground, no matter what."
"Got it." Dazhi nodded firmly.
Just then, Coach Don Nelson walked over with a grin.
"Wang," he said, clapping Dazhi on the back, "nice work today. That kind of toughness helps your case for more minutes."
Dazhi blinked, then quickly stood and bowed slightly. "Thank you, Coach!"
"Hey, Coach," Fordson cut in loudly, "I did good too, right?"
Van Gundy frowned and muttered, "You fouled out in 21 minutes. You call that good?"
"Ugh!" Fordson dropped his head in defeat.
Zhao Dong chuckled. "Today was different. With Malone in town, the refs were giving him all the calls."
"Exactly!" Fordson lit up again. "The whistles were straight-up trash! Malone elbowed me at least five times and only caught one foul—and this is our home court!"
"Man, you're just soft," Latrell shouted from across the room. "Look at the boss. He elbowed Malone so hard in the fourth, the dude's eyes rolled back! You see any whistles?"
"C'mon, I can't go toe-to-toe with the boss!" Fordson hollered back.
He and Latrell had become tight lately, always clowning and joking with each other in the locker room.
---
The next day, sports shows across China lit up with talk of the game. Basketball analysts and league stars weighed in on Zhao Dong's dominance, the Knicks' suffocating defense, and whether Karl Malone could bounce back.
Iverson's struggles made headlines too. Once again, Zhao Dong had turned another NBA superstar's night into a nightmare.
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