Chapter 464: Chen Yan Is Injured?
Chen Yan buried the free throw to complete the 4 point play.
The Knicks came back down, but their offense had very little structure. Most possessions were pure freelancing, which made Phoenix's defense feel almost relaxed. They did not have to overthink rotations, they just had to stay solid and rebound.
Nate Robinson tried to change that.
Coming off a pick and roll, he hunted the mismatch and used a sharp change of direction to shake Stoudemire. He got the angle, but Stoudemire did not quit on the play. Nate felt the pressure at the rim and put too much force on the layup. The ball smacked the backboard and bounced out.
That was the reality for smaller guards. Speed and agility could create chances, but finishing over length, and defending anyone bigger, was a constant fight.
The moment Nate checked in, Chen Yan felt a familiar itch.
On the next Suns possession, Chen Yan and Nash ran a handoff. Nate switched onto him immediately. Everyone in the league respected Chen Yan's 3 point shot, and if you were even half a step late, you were already dead.
Nate appeared in front of him.
Chen Yan smiled, satisfied, like a teacher picking a student to answer a question. Nate had volunteered without realizing it.
He did not rush into an isolation. He paused, crossed between his legs, and slid left. Nate stayed attached. Chen Yan did not try to blow past him. Instead, he protected the ball with his body and walked him inward.
Guards Nate's size were usually quick handed, with strong instincts for steals. Chen Yan's handle was too clean, and his awareness was too sharp. He advanced without giving Nate a single window.
At the horn spot, Chen Yan turned his back and went into a post up.
Bang.
Bang.
He bumped twice. Nate only gave ground by a small step.
For a guy listed around 170 cm, his strength was real. Height aside, Nate's other physical tools were elite. A normal person at that height does not survive in the NBA.
Chen Yan felt the resistance and did not force it. He bumped once more, then spun, fast and sudden.
Nate was still bracing for contact when Chen Yan had already slipped past his hip.
Chen Yan's post game was not elite, but it was more than enough to punish mismatches. He spun with the ball in his left hand, and his right hand, the shield hand, briefly caught Nate's arm during the turn.
In the NBA, that kind of subtle contact was rarely called. Plenty of great scorers lived on that edge.
Nate tried to recover, but his path was sealed.
Chen Yan jump stepped into the paint and finished with a left handed dunk.
Easy.
Nate snapped.
"Help me on defense!" he yelled at his teammates.
He had been posted for several seconds and nobody came. No double. No stunt. Nothing.
But nobody responded. Nobody even looked at him.
That was Knicks basketball in a nutshell. Every possession came with a silent agreement: not my problem.
Nate kept complaining as he jogged back, and Wilson Chandler finally had enough.
"If you can't guard him, stop talking," Chandler said.
Nate's eyes flared. "What the hell? He's your man!"
A burst of whistles cut through the noise.
Only then did Chen Yan realize the Knicks were fighting each other.
They shoved a few times. Teammates made the minimum effort to separate them. It was more like a routine than a real intervention.
The Garden responded with a loud wave of boos.
Fights could be a sign of spirit, if they were directed at the opponent. But fighting your own teammates while the scoreboard bled? That was just embarrassing.
…
After the brief delay, the game returned to its usual pattern.
Both teams played simple basketball. The difference was that Phoenix's simple basketball produced points, while New York's simple basketball produced bricks.
By the end of the 1st quarter, the Knicks had only 16 points. The Suns had 29, a 13 point lead heading into the 2nd.
New York played better in the 2nd, but they still could not slow Phoenix's offense. Starters and bench units kept the pressure on, and the Suns went into halftime up 60 to 40.
The game was drifting toward garbage time.
…
The 2nd half opened with a rare clean possession from New York.
Nate drove, kicked to David Lee, and Lee swung it quickly to Al Harrington in the corner.
Harrington rose and hit the 3.
80 to 43.
Harrington was one of the league's most 3 happy bigs, averaging 6.5 three point attempts per game. He had been a key piece in the Warriors' playoff upset years ago. If his attitude were better, Chen Yan genuinely thought he could fit Phoenix.
But that 3 was only a brief gasp.
Over the next few possessions, Phoenix's Big 3 answered with a punch.
Stoudemire finished a step through dunk.
Nash hit a trailing 3 in transition.
Chen Yan came off a screen and forced another 3 plus 1.
A 9 to 0 run that flattened the Knicks.
It was Chen Yan's 2nd 4 point play of the night, and both had happened with Nate Robinson involved. Chen Yan's smile made Nate feel the humiliation deeper.
And then, Nate finally found a moment.
Stoudemire missed a mid range shot. Chen Yan flew in for the rebound. Nate followed, but he did not jump.
Instead, he crouched and slid into position in front of Chen Yan, slightly to the side.
It looked harmless.
It was not.
The instant Chen Yan secured the rebound, his body twisted in midair. His balance disappeared. He fell hard, flat on his back.
Bang.
The sound echoed through Madison Square Garden.
For a split second, it felt like the air got pulled out of the arena. Chen Yan's vision flashed, and his whole body rang from the impact.
Kenny Smith's voice tightened. "Oh no. That's a nasty fall."
Charles Barkley sounded angry. "That ain't a basketball play. He didn't even try to go for the ball."
On replay, the intent was obvious. Nate ran to Chen Yan with no attempt to contest the rebound, only to take his landing space and flip him.
The Suns players exploded.
They rushed Nate and surrounded him. Nate tried to stay defiant, until he realized something that made his stomach drop.
Not a single Knicks teammate stepped in.
No backup. No protection. No fake toughness.
They just watched.
Only David Lee moved toward the crowd to try to separate bodies, but one good guy could not stand against a whole team. Nate got shoved and jostled until the referees and coaches sprinted in to stop it from turning into a full brawl.
Meanwhile, Chen Yan was already being carried into the tunnel on a stretcher.
The team doctor leaned in close, repeatedly asking about his condition.
Chen Yan already knew.
He did not need an MRI. He did not need X rays.
He had the system.
In his status bar, "Health" was red. Next to it was the word "Injury," followed by a diagnosis: transverse process fracture, estimated 8 to 10 weeks out.
8 to 10 weeks.
That meant at least 2 months.
In the NBA, missing 2 months could erase an MVP campaign, erase award chances, and even create lingering effects that never fully go away.
Most players would have felt panic right then.
Chen Yan only felt a sharp sting of frustration, because he could fix it.
He just needed the points.
A prompt appeared in his mind.
"Repair injury (transverse process fracture)? Repair requires 87 points."
Chen Yan exhaled.
He still had 103 honor points, saved for exactly this kind of emergency.
Without hesitation, he chose "Repair."
His mind went blank for a heartbeat. A warm current rushed through his body. The pain dissolved as if someone had turned off a switch.
3 seconds later, it was gone.
"Ding. Injury repaired. Reminder: avoid strenuous exercise for 3 days to prevent recurrence."
He opened the panel.
The red "Health" turned green again.
"Chen? Chen?" the team doctor called, patting his cheek. "Are you alright?"
He had asked several times with no response and thought Chen Yan had blacked out.
Chen Yan forced a calm expression. "I'm fine, Thomas. It hurt for a second, but I'm okay now. I think I just landed hard."
Thomas Carter stared at him, unconvinced. The Suns doctor had a reputation for spotting real injuries instantly.
"I don't think it's that simple," Thomas said. "You need a full examination."
Chen Yan tried again. "Thomas, I can go back in right now."
Thomas snapped.
"Are you kidding me?" he barked. "Are you gambling with your career, Chen?"
For a usually quiet, easygoing doctor, the change was shocking. But this was his job. Protecting players was the job.
He took a breath and softened his tone, but his eyes stayed hard.
"Listen to me. You're getting checked, thoroughly. Right now."
Chen Yan knew he could not win this argument. Even if he felt perfect, no medical staff in the world was letting a star jog back onto the floor after being stretchered off.
He nodded. "Alright. I'll listen."
Thomas steadied his voice. "Don't think about the court. They'll handle it. You have the best teammates in the world, don't you?"
Chen Yan nodded again.
And he meant it.
Phoenix was already up big, and the opponent was the Knicks. Even without him, the Suns could finish the job.