By now, the media had already caught wind of the situation, and the news about Zhao Dong getting shot was blowing up everywhere. By the time he came out of the operating room, the whole world knew what went down.
"Zhao Dong shot three times, took one gangster out in retaliation, life-threatening injuries!" – New York Times.
"Zhao Dong shot four times! NYPD arrived late—pure incompetence. If he dies, the department better be ready to take the heat." – New York Sports Daily.
New York was in total shock. The playoffs were right around the corner, and now their squad's leader, the franchise cornerstone, got shot. Knicks fans were devastated.
"Karl, Zhao Dong got shot. They say five times. Turn on NBC—they're posted up right outside the hospital."
That was John Stockton calling up Karl Malone.
"Good! That cocky Chinese dude had it coming," Malone said, buzzing with excitement. "He been running the league like he owns it—guess that's what happens."
Jordan was glued to the TV for a few minutes, processing the news. Finally, he shook his head and muttered, "Nah... nah, this ain't it. I wanted to beat him straight up, not see him taken out by some damn gangsters."
Shaq found out from a reporter.
"Zhao Dong's dead," the reporter told him.
Shaq didn't believe it at first, but the dude kept saying it was real. Shaq actually teared up, shook his head, and said, "Damn… Zhao Dong's gone? That's tough, man. The league just lost a legend… a straight-up all-time great. And yo, he gave me a pair of those Silver Demons I—loved those kicks. I owe him one. Rest in peace, big bro."
(TL: Bro is crying)
At the same time, David Stern was in a meeting with league execs, tech advisors, and refs, working on tweaking the anti-isolation rule.
BANG!
The conference room door flew open. Adam Silver stormed in, straight-up panicked.
"Mr. President! Zhao Dong got shot at a supermarket. I heard he's dead!"
"What!?"
The whole room went silent, jaws dropping.
"He got killed by the cops?" one of the Black execs asked in shock.
"I'm not sure what happened exactly. The news is all over the place right now," Silver replied.
"Well if he's dead, what's the point of continuing this meeting?" someone asked.
"Meeting's over," Stern said, face dark as hell.
The league's next Jordan—gone? It hit him hard.
"Get the Knicks on the phone. I want details, now."
"On it!" Silver said, rushing out.
---
After giving his statement at the hospital, Zhao Dong was ready to bounce.
Outside? Straight chaos. Reporters packed the streets—over 200 of them. The media had the whole block on lockdown. Every car leaving the hospital got mobbed, including Zhao Dong's ride.
To calm the frenzy, he had to roll his window down a bit.
"YO! That's Zhao Dong! He's alive!"
"No way! Wasn't he supposed to be dead?!"
"He took SEVEN shots and he's still standing?! Dude's made of steel!"
"He got hit five times and still looks chill. What is he, the Hulk?!"
Once they saw his face, reporters lost their damn minds.
"Yo! My shoe fell off!"
"Forget it—just push through!"
The crowd surged like a damn tidal wave.
"Zhao Dong, you don't even look hurt. Didn't they say three shots?"
"I'm good. Just some minor hits."
"Can you still play in the playoffs?"
"We'll see. I hope it doesn't mess with our title defense."
"Did you really shoot back at the gangster?"
"No comment."
"You thinking of switching careers? Maybe hitman? Mercenary?"
"You wildin'. Go get checked."
"How many dudes you kill, bro?!"
"You enjoy that killin' life?"
"Are you Iron Man or somethin'?!"
(TL: "The Invincible Iron Man" just got released in February 1998.)
"You know Chinese kung fu?!"
Reporters were going nuts. Zhao Dong answered a few questions, dipped on the rest, and rolled the window up.
---
Back at NBA HQ...
"Mr. President! Latest update—Zhao Dong's alive! He just left the hospital and went home," Silver burst in, looking hyped.
Stern didn't say a word. Just grabbed the phone and dialed up Knicks GM Ernie Grunfeld.
"Hello, Mr. Stern," Grunfeld answered, still in the car.
Silver had already hit him up, so he knew this was serious now that Stern was personally calling.
"Ernie, what's the real status on Zhao Dong?" Stern asked.
"He took two shots. One in the right chest, one in the left thigh. But he's okay. The real question is whether he'll be ready for the playoffs," Grunfeld said.
"Tell him to rest up."
Stern exhaled deep and hung up.
"President, should we keep working on the anti-isolation rule?" Silver asked, a little hesitant.
Stern blinked, thought it over, then said, "Yeah. Zhao Dong's gonna be back—no doubt."
---
The Knicks sent Zhao Dong home to his villa. His car that was left outside the supermarket got brought back, too.
Reporters swarmed the front yard. James Dolan had six security guards stay behind to block off the media and keep Zhao Dong from being harassed.
The local police even posted up a few officers outside the property to keep things from popping off again.
"Zhao Dong, just chill and recover. I'll have the medical staff pull up to take care of your wounds. Call me if you need anything," Ringo wells said.
"Zhao Dong, the injury's not too bad, but you still got shot twice, man. That's two bullet holes. Muscles need time to heal, and one of those rounds hit near your ribs. Honestly, I suggest you sit out the playoffs. Focus on getting right. We'll run it back next season."
Ernie Grunfeld kept it real.
Everybody else nodded. Boss James Dolan added, "Zhao, don't push it. You're still young. We're banking on your future. Remember, even MJ got hurt in his second season and had to chill for a while."
"Honey?"
Lindsay didn't say much, but deep down, she was on the same page as the team.
"We'll see how it goes. I ain't gonna be reckless," Zhao Dong said, nodding.
The bullet wounds were serious, no doubt, but thanks to his level 100 injury immunity, he dodged anything life-threatening. Without that, he would've been done for. No way his muscles or ribs could've stopped that slug—his lungs would've been toast.
"Aight then, we'll head out. Let Zhao Dong and Mrs Lindsay get some rest," Dolan said, standing up.
"Baby, I was scared today. Thank you for protecting me," Lindsay whispered, leaning against Zhao Dong, her face still pale.
"Silly girl, you're my wife. Of course I'm gonna protect you," he said, smiling.
But then his smile faded a little. "Tomorrow, tell Wells to line up a dozen bodyguards. This gun violence in the States is no joke."
He hadn't really thought about it earlier, but now it hit him—what if one of those bullets had hit Lindsay?
"Yeah, I want the best of the best," Lindsay said seriously.
Zhao Dong didn't wait for the sun to rise. He grabbed his phone and hit up Wells.
"Yo, I need a dozen pro bodyguards. Top tier, the type that'll take a bullet if it comes to that. And if any of 'em got a license to shoot back—those are the ones I want. Split it fifty-fifty too, half men, half women."
On the other end, Wells chuckled a little.
"Zhao, I don't know about no license-to-kill types, but I'll get you the best I can find. Just know, they gonna cost."
"Money ain't a problem. Just get it done," Zhao Dong said, hanging up.
"If Mr. Wells can't hook us up, maybe Mrs. Dolores can. She called earlier—real worried about you," Lindsay added.
"Cool, that works too," Zhao Dong nodded.
"Yo Dong-ge, I just saw the news…"
"It's all good. I'm fine," Zhao Dong said.
Yao Ming voice was full of worry over the phone. Only after getting the full story did he finally chill out.
It was pushing 7 p.m., and Zhao Dong decided to call back home.
"Hello, Dongdong?"
His mom, Li Meizhu, answered with a groggy voice.
"Why you callin' so early in the morning? What's up?"
"Nothin' major, Mom. Just wanted to check if everyone's eaten. How's Grandpa and Grandma? I'm making dinner now."
"I just made some dumplings. Ain't boiled them yet. The old folks are fine, but they keep talking about when they'll see their great-grandkids."
"Ahem, yeah… uh, Mom, there might be some news comin' out soon. Don't panic. I'm okay."
"What news? It about you?"
"Yeah… There was a little shooting."
"What?!"
"It's alright, don't stress. Somebody started poppin' off when I was at the store."
"You got hit?!"
"I'm okay now, I promise. If anything comes up, I'll call you first. I got this."
"Bless the ancestors, thank God you're alright. From now on, don't go shopping by yourself. You got all those employees—use 'em! What are they there for?"
"Got it."
They chatted a little longer before hanging up.
Just then, the old man and old lady got back from their morning walk, flipped on the TV, and tuned into the local news. Li Meizhu was still talking to herself about Zhao Dong's call.
Both elders had seen their fair share of chaos in life. They were definitely concerned about Zhao Dong's safety, but they didn't panic.
Two minutes later, the news flashed: Zhao Dong had been shot.
Luckily, he'd already called ahead to say he was okay—so it didn't come as a total shock.
"This kid… so that's why he called earlier. Got hit and didn't wanna scare us…" Li Meizhu wiped the sweat off her forehead.
She called back right away, grilled him for details, then told him over and over not to hit up sketchy spots ever again.
Zhao Dong was just about to whip up dinner when Oakley and a few of the guys pulled up to the crib—only to be stopped at the gate by police and security.
"Zhao Dong, you good, man? Damn, you got worse luck than Patrick out here!" Oakley hollered when they ran into each other outside.
"Nah, nah, I'm way better than him. I'm straight. Just got a few stitches, that's all," Zhao Dong grinned.
"Boss, you think you can play in the first round?" Allan Houston asked.
"Depends how I'm feelin'," Zhao Dong shrugged.
"Zhao Dong, don't push it, man. You got shot twice. You should still be laid up in the hospital," Hu Weidong said with concern.
"I'm cool, look at this."
He pulled up his shirt to show the wound on his chest. Just some gauze. No blood.
"Pah… Pah…"
He even slapped the bandaged spot on his stomach twice and said, "See..."
Everyone winced at the savage move, but they relaxed when they saw he was chillin'.
"Aight, aight, I ain't even had dinner yet, y'all go do your thing," Zhao Dong waved them off.
"We ain't eaten either, let's grab a bite with you," Hu Weidong chimed in.
"Facts. I'm eatin' here with you," Oakley laughed.
"You guys came to check on me or eat for free?" Zhao Dong shook his head and let them in.
---
New York Times:
"Zhao Dong turns into Iron Man. Got shot twice, still laid two dudes out and caught a body. That's wild!"
New York Sports Daily:
"The New York Tyrant? Nah, he's Iron Man now! Yo Hollywood, you need to grab this script! Marvel, y'all better call him — we need Zhao Dong as the real Iron Man!"
The buzz that Zhao Dong only had minor injuries blew up around the world, all thanks to the New York media going nuts.
After the shooting, his fame shot through the roof — global level.
"Damn, even a gun can't take this dude out?" Karl Malone said, stunned while watching the news on TV.
"Ain't no way! How you train to get muscles like that? He built different. That's gotta be some Chinese kung fu type deal or somethin'."
Jordan saw ESPN's interview with Dr. Macko, the one who operated on Zhao Dong, and was so shook he dropped his cigar.
"Man, Zhao Dong, you killin' me!" Shaq cursed.
He had just told reporters he rocked with the Silver Devils. Now the media twisted it, saying he was ditching Reebok to sign with them. Reebok was already on the phone with his agent about it.
TNT, NBC, ESPN — all of 'em jumped on it. That same night, they dropped specials on Zhao Dong's shooting.
Playoffs right around the corner, and all anyone could talk about were two things:
Zhao Dong got shot twice and still walked away like nothin'
Is this man the real Iron Man?
---
After dinner, Zhao Dong tucked a still-nervous Lindsay into bed and switched the TV to NBC.
The show was hosted by Matt Goukas, and the guest lineup was stacked:
Knicks legend Willis Reed
Lakers GOAT Kareem Abdul-Jabbar
Current stars Grant Hill and Allen Iverson
Hill's Pistons and Iverson's squad didn't even make the playoffs. Detroit was 11th in the East, Iverson's team was 14th. Bottom-tier stuff.
Just as the show was about to kick off, Zhao Dong's phone buzzed. It was Ringo Wells.
He figured Ringo Wells finally found him a bodyguard. But nope — it wasn't that.
"Zhao Dong, my phone been blowin' up all day! Bro, Hollywood wanna buy your story — no joke! Studios are fightin' to make a movie about you. Even Marvel called — they wanna design an Iron Man comic just for you and put it on screen!" Ringo Wells said, hyped.
"Yo, Ringo Wells, go handle my bodyguard situation first. If you can't do it, I'll call someone else." Zhao Dong hung up, annoyed.
He wasn't hurting for money. And he definitely wasn't tryin' to be some media celebrity.
Lindsay hated that kinda spotlight too.
---
"Aight, time's up. Let's send our love to Zhao Dong real quick."
The NBC special kicked off.
Marv Albert hyped up the camera:
"Zhao Dong, you watchin' us? I'm gonna assume you are. You okay, man? What's it feel like to get shot? You shook? Any trauma?"
Zhao Dong rolled his eyes. "Man, stop ramblin'. Just get to the point."
"Iron Man — that's what we call him now. Thoughts?" Marv smirked.
"Bet," Iverson said.
"Real talk, even a gun couldn't go through this dude. He's Iron Man for real."
Everyone nodded.
"Anybody know what kind of gun they used?" Marv asked.
Nobody had a clue.
"Media kept quiet on that. Cops didn't drop any details either," Iverson said.
"My guess? Some tiny caliber. Maybe a .22 or somethin'? If it was a Desert Eagle, Iron Man would've been in pieces," Jabbar joked.
The whole set cracked up.
"Yo Kareem, since you trained with Bruce Lee, you think Zhao Dong knows Kung Fu? That why he tanked bullets?" Marv asked.
Jabbar leaned in, smiling. "Man, I was thinking that too! There's a Chinese style called hard qigong. Maybe he's been doin' that for years."
"Wait — that bulletproof stuff?!" the others exclaimed.
"I still think Dr. Macko was right. Somethin' must've been off with the bullet," Marv said.
"Facts. Ain't no way regular muscle stops a bullet to the chest," Willis Reed added.
That was the first topic — is Zhao Dong really Iron Man?
They laughed, joked, speculated — then moved on.
---
Next topic:
How far can the Knicks go without Zhao Dong?
Will they crash in the first round? Second? Can they at least make the Eastern Conference Finals?
Nobody brought up the Finals. Without Zhao Dong, nobody was betting on New York making it that far.
Willis Reed sighed, "Man, this is just bad luck. We only got one true star, and without Zhao Dong, we got no shot at a ring."
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