February 2nd, the Knicks hit the road.
Rookie Chauncey Billups flew straight to Phoenix and joined up with the team at the hotel.
"Yo, boss."
Fresh into the league and only half a season deep, Billups quickly walked up and greeted Zhao Dong as soon as he saw him.
"I need you to move the rock, knock down open mid-range and long-range jumpers, and bring some defense on the perimeter. You got that?" Zhao Dong asked straight-up.
"I got you," Billups replied without hesitation.
But deep down, he wasn't all that confident. Getting dumped by the Celtics really did a number on him. When your own squad gives up on you, it messes with your head.
At this point in his game, Billups was a volume shooter with a shaky clip—especially from deep. His shot selection was suspect, and he wanted to score more than he wanted to facilitate. For a point guard, that's a problem. People even called him a "PG cancer" because he wasn't running the offense the right way.
Rick Pitino's uptempo, free-flowing system should've worked for him, kind of like Don Nelson's small-ball setups. But the league's physicality was still too much for rookie Billups. He wasn't ready. And Pitino put him on the shelf.
Zhao Dong laid it out for him: "Our Knicks game plan switches it up. We run both half-court sets and small-ball fast breaks. We play what works. If we can't run in transition, we slow it down and set up. That's how it's gonna be. We go hard on both ends—fast when we can, methodical when we need to. But always physical, always defensive."
He paused, then added, "You might not be used to this kind of grind yet, and that's fine. Right now, your job is to move the ball—get it out quick on the break, make the smart pass during offense-defense transitions. In the half-court, I'm the one taking the pressure, so you won't be getting hit as much. That's when I need you to spot up and hit your jumper. No wild shots out there. You've got limited green light here. Remember that."
"Understood," Billups nodded, a little stiff.
Zhao Dong didn't really know if the rookie could deliver. Billups was still raw—couldn't balance scoring and playmaking, didn't have a consistent three-ball, and honestly? All Zhao could count on was his passing. Nothing else was reliable yet.
In Zhao Dong's past life, Billups flamed out early in his career. It wasn't until he got to the Timberwolves that he started finding his game. He linked up with old vet Brandon, who taught him how to actually run point like a pro.
Most folks thought his breakout came with the Pistons, but that Wolves stretch? That was his real turning point. He came into Detroit already polished.
Not that any of that mattered to Zhao Dong. Yeah, he could've mentored Billups—he knew how to balance offense and playmaking—but he wasn't about to play coach. That wasn't his thing.
This wasn't like Jordan, who used to push Pippen nonstop. MJ basically dragged Pippen to greatness. But Zhao Dong? He wasn't that controlling. Coaching the squad wasn't his lane. He just showed up, did his job, and dominated.
Fordson was the exception—dude had a crazy temper, and the staff couldn't handle him, so Zhao had to step in sometimes. But even then, he wasn't on him every day. Just when he had to.
After two road games, it was All-Star Weekend.
Zhao Dong flew back to New York to start getting ready for the wedding.
Silver Demon was officially dropping on the 7th, but the marketing machine was already full throttle. Huge posters of Zhao Dong in full Silver Demon gear were plastered all over NYC.
Especially that close-up of him shattering the backboard on a dunk and the shot of him diving to steal from Grant Hill—those were everywhere. Times Square, billboards, buses—you couldn't miss it.
Still, America wasn't the main market. China was home base. Chen Jian had flown back to take charge there, while the U.S. office handled things stateside. Huang Zhiwen was keeping watch over the launch.
On the 5th, Zhao Dong headed to the airport to pick up his dad, Zhao Zhenguo.
"Pops, it's up to you whether Lindsay gets Chinese citizenship. Grandpa said to get it done. If you don't, he'll come after you himself," Zhao Dong joked on the ride home.
"What'd that old man say?" Zhao Zhenguo scratched his head.
"Exactly what I told you."
"You tryna run game on your father now? You think your grandpa ever cut corners in his life?" he said, giving Zhao a light slap to the back of the head. If Zhao hadn't been behind the wheel, he probably would've kicked him too.
Zhao Dong just grinned.
"Look, Weiwei's mom's Chinese, you've got big money invested in Beijing, and if you two tie the knot there, she can apply under special conditions. No backdoor stuff."
After giving his son a little grief, Zhao Zhenguo added, "But you gotta get married in China for that to work. Right now, it's tough—policy-wise, it's a gray area."
"No rush," Zhao Dong replied. "As long as it's doable, I'm cool."
"One more thing—the media back home's been gunning for you. Somebody's behind it. I can't do much from here, so just be careful."
Zhao Dong nodded. "I got it."
February 6th, Zhao Dong and Evelyn Lindsay got married at a cathedral on Long Island.
The place was packed. The entire Knicks squad showed up, along with the New York Jets. League Vp Russ Granik and GM Ernie Grunfeld pulled up, repping David Stern. Stony Brook University's leadership rolled through, a bunch of Seawolves homies, and even some ex-girlfriends came out of nowhere.
Twenty die-hard Zhao Dong fans were invited too, plus his agent Ringo Wells, CCTV legends Sun Zhenping and Zhang Heli, and reps from a bunch of companies.
Just as Zhao Dong and his boys were getting ready to roll out for the church, an uninvited guest pulled up at his Villa
"Yo Yao Ming, what you doin' here?" Zhao Dong asked, a little surprised as Yao Ming showed up in front of him.
"Brother Dong, if I didn't pull up today, my parents would've chewed me out," Yao Ming grinned.
"You've been solid this season, but you still too raw, man. You stay a couple more years at Duke, maybe two or three, you'll be a problem. No cap, you could go number one in the draft," Zhao Dong said, smirking.
"Me? Number one pick? Haha, that's wild, no way," Yao Ming laughed.
"Why not? If it's a weak draft class, you'll eat. Even in a loaded year, you still got a shot," Zhao Dong chuckled.
He did some mental math. If Yao Ming declared after his junior year, that'd be the 2000 draft — Kenyon Martin went first that year. If he waited till senior year, that's 2001 — Kwame Brown went #1.
Shoot, if a blind man was picking, they'd still take Yao over those two.
Then again, if history hadn't changed and Jordan stayed retired as a boss, he might've passed on Yao. So maybe...
"You think Duke got a shot at the title this year?" Zhao Dong asked.
"Most of our starters are freshmen. They still figuring it out. But we definitely makin' it to March Madness," Yao Ming replied.
Zhao Dong knew Yao's teammates — Battier, Boozer, Brand — had game, but their defense was suspect. They could light up the scoreboard, but stopping anyone? That was a different story.
Even Battier wasn't that lockdown guy in college. He was more of a jack-of-all-trades who could score off the dribble — something he later left behind.
With that kind of squad — offensive firepower but shaky D — winning a chip as freshmen would be tough.
But Duke was still a powerhouse in the NCAA. March Madness is a knockout grind. If the team clicks and they get a little lucky, anything could happen.
Now, Zhao Dong's wedding was all over the media. He was the biggest name in the league after Jordan, so the press was on it heavy.
On the way to the church, a whole fleet of media vans tailed him.
The ceremony was clean and classy. Once it wrapped, it was official — Zhao Dong and Lindsay were husband and wife.
"Zhao Dong, I'm handing Avil over to you. Keep your promise — love her and protect her for life," Mrs. Dolores said, her tone serious and full of hope.
"I got you," Zhao Dong replied, holding Lindsay's hand tight.
Back at the villa after the church, they did things the traditional way — bowed and offered tea to their grandparents and parents.
"When we head back home next year, we'll throw a real party. This one's too quiet," Li Meizhu said, half-joking.
"Yeah, let's invite the whole block, make it loud and proud!" Zhao Dacheng chimed in.
After the wedding night, while Lindsay was chillin' at home the next morning, Zhao Dong was already back on the grind.
Today was launch day for the Silver Demon Generation 1.
The promo campaign had been cookin' for a minute. With Zhao Dong's star power, even with other NBA players throwin' shade, fans were hyped.
Three stores were ready in New York — Manhattan, Long Island, and Brooklyn — with six sales points total. Fans had been lining up since dawn.
At 9 a.m., Zhao Dong pulled up at the Manhattan spot and kicked off the Silver Demon launch with a ribbon-cutting ceremony — Chinese style.
"Boss, this is gonna be a hit!" Huang Zhiwen said, clearly fired up.
"For sure."
Zhao Dong looked out at the long lines of sneakerheads and smiled. This was just the beginning.
The Silver Demon wasn't just about the looks — it had real performance behind the hype. Add Zhao Dong's influence? No doubt, these were gonna fly off shelves.
Around noon, Arntlem showed up at the hotel carrying a big ol' bag.
He was Kobe's agent — dude had waited in line all morning just to cop a pair of the Silver Demons. Took him over five hours.
When he got to Kobe's room, Kobe was mad eager. He popped open the box and the moment he saw the kicks, he just said, "Yo… these are fire!"
"Cold, savage, got that mysterious aura — almost like they magic," Kobe said, just staring at the shoes.
"Don't forget, Kobe — only rock these at home. Can't let nobody see 'em," Arntlem warned.
"Bet."
Kobe nodded as he laced 'em up.
"Man, these feel crazy comfy."
That was his first reaction after slipping them on.
He bounced around the room a few times, then his eyes lit up. "Damn! I swear I can jump higher in these. And the landing? Super soft. Like, they really protect your feet."
"For real? Better than your Adidas joints?" Arntlem raised a brow.
"Hmm…" Kobe hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, they better. But lemme try 'em out a little more."
He sprinted a few steps, made some sharp cuts. "Grip is insane. I'm not sliding, no matter how hard I go."
He kept testing them for a few more minutes, then sighed, "Man… it sucks I can't wear these in games."
Arntlem laughed. "Adidas givin' you $8 mil a year. You know the deal."
"Fine... but yo, buy me ten more pairs. I need to stash these."
"Now? Hell nah. Too many folks in line. This is Zhao Dong's home base. Just cop 'em in L.A., they got a store there too," Arntlem said, shaking his head.
"Aight, cool," Kobe smiled.
Like Kobe, a bunch of NBA players in New York for the All-Star break were sending people to secretly grab the Silver Demons. Those kicks had the league buzzing.
Right now, Silver Demon — Zhao Dong's brand — was direct-to-consumer. No middlemen. In the U.S., stores only existed in the major cities — New York, L.A., Miami, and Houston.
At five o'clock that afternoon, Zhao Dong finally got the numbers in. Sales in New York City hit 86,000 pairs, and across other cities, they racked up 160,000 more. Total sales for the first drop? 250,000 pairs.
The first-gen Silver Demon had a few versions, but on average, it was selling for fifty bucks a pair—which was still hella pricey for the times.
"Cheers."
That number alone called for a toast. It had only been one day, and just by the looks of it, Silver Demon's total sales would hit a mil real soon.
What really had Zhao Dong hyped though, was that besides his turf in New York, the shoe was moving well in other cities too. That meant his influence was starting to stretch beyond just one city.
"Hughes, you thinking we go distributor or keep it direct in the other cities?" he asked Hughes Wallace, the U.S. branch general manager.
"Boss, my plan is to expand our direct sales stores in the bigger cities. As for the second- and third-tier cities, we'll roll with distributors. That way, we keep our overhead low and build out the network faster," Hughes explained.
Zhao Dong gave him a nod. He didn't really know all the business ins and outs, and honestly, he didn't need to. As long as he understood the big picture, he was good.
Later that night, back at home, Chen Jian dropped the numbers from China.
It had dropped over there yesterday, but thanks to the time difference, it hit the shelves a day earlier. They were swamped last night, so this was the first chance to report.
All the stores in China were direct-to-consumer, with more than 160 locations open. Total sales hit 1.23 million pairs.
But since the price over there was only a quarter of what it was in the States, the total revenue came out pretty much the same.
By nightfall, the lights were still on in the Nike HQ president's office. A bunch of top managers were still around, all waiting for the numbers they'd been dying to see.
Knock knock!
"Come in," Philip Knight said with a heavy voice.
"Mr. President, we've got the figures," his assistant Morley said, looking dead serious. "Eighty-six thousand in New York, 250,000 total in the U.S., and 1.23 million in China."
"What?!"
"No way those numbers are real!"
Everyone in the room started tripping out.
Philip Knight nodded slowly. "The look of the Silver Demon 1 is definitely unique, and its performance… yeah, it might actually be better than ours…"
He didn't want to say it out loud, but deep down, he knew—Silver Demon Gen 1 outperformed anything Nike had dropped. But his pride wouldn't let him say it outright.
"President, the Golden Demon Gen 1 is already in production and should hit soon," someone spoke up.
Philip just shook his head and sighed. "I've seen the samples. To dodge a lawsuit, the R&D team tweaked the look a bit, but those changes stripped away the whole Silver Demon vibe. It doesn't hit the same. And on top of that, we can't even replicate the tech they're using in the Silver Demon. We just… we don't have that kind of tech."
Everyone glanced around at each other, stunned. They never expected someone out there to actually out-tech Nike.
"The Chinese media already started dragging Zhao Dong, but even with the smear campaign, sales are through the roof," one PR exec said bitterly. "These media types are trash. They control the narrative but can't shut down a real baller."
Philip Knight cut in, "Right now, we stick to our original plan—but we also gotta step up our promo game, boost our athletes, and protect our market share.
Also, if we can poach some top-tier guys from Adidas or Reebok, like Kobe—he's been balling out this season. He's still young, got a bold personality, and honestly, his style's got a little Jordan in it. He's signed with Adidas, but if we can flip him to us, it'd be huge.
And for every new rookie, I want full scouting reports. No more misses—every potential superstar gets a deep dive."
"Yes, sir!" the room echoed.
Over at Adidas HQ, they were holding emergency meetings too, all about the Silver Demon shake-up.
Around 6 p.m. that night, Zhao Dong's New York branch dropped the official Silver Demon Gen 1 sales stats to the press. The media went crazy.
Next morning, when Wall Street opened, Nike stock dropped three points. Adidas fell four. Reebok? Took a seven-point hit. And the smaller brands? They opened the day with a full-on L.
"The wolf is coming! The Silver Demon Gen 1 is too fire—there's a new giant in the sneaker game!"
—New York Times
"No doubt about it—fans are loving the Silver Demon I. Dope design, elite performance, and with Zhao Dong's stardom backing it, it's carving out a chunk of the market from OG brands like Nike and Adidas."
"Brought to you by Zhao Dong, the Silver Demon Generation—these kicks are the real deal."
—New York Sports Daily
"Superstars rule the league. Jordan rules the superstars. But Zhao Dong straight-up beat Jordan. He's on track to become the new king of kings. And with him repping Silver Demon, more fans are buying in—the sales speak for themselves."
Tons of New York media outlets were hyping up the Silver Demon Gen 1, pulling in even more attention from fans nationwide.
Today was All-Star Game day. But this year, no dunk contest as a warmup—they swapped it for a two-ball comp.
Last year's dunk contest was trash—just a bunch of awkward windmills that nobody felt. The league scrapped it altogether this year.
But fans and the media were still amped for the main event.
It wasn't just about East vs. West anymore. Just the beef between Zhao Dong and Jordan in the East lineup had people thinking this could get real spicy—maybe even blow up into some full-on drama.
There was also the tension between Karl Malone and Zhao Dong. Fans were watching closely to see if any sparks would fly.
Then you had Jordan and Kobe—rookie vs. legend. That showdown was another must-watch.
Long story short, this year's Eastern Conference All-Star Game was stacked with storylines.
People had been calling different players the next Jordan, but Grant Hill never had that iconic moment, and his personality wasn't built for that throne. Hardaway? Way too injury-prone. But Kobe—this rookie was showing flashes of what MJ brought to the table.
Word on the street was that David Stern picked Kobe just to square up with Jordan in this All-Star Game. Whether true or not, the hype was real—and the fans were eating it up.
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