At UCLA's training facility, Zhang Zhaohua poured sweat into his workouts. The NCAA season was over, leaving only him and Karl, his fellow draft prospect, to train together. Karl was a Mexican exchange student who, according to media projections, would likely go undrafted. But he kept grinding, clinging to that sliver of hope.
Both had spent their families' savings to come to America and couldn't afford private trainers for specialized workouts. Only head coach Ben Holland provided some guidance, giving them access to the school's court and weight room.
On court, Zhang Zhaohua sent Karl's shot into the stands. As a point guard, Karl's height disadvantage meant any mistimed cut would result in a block.
Karl waved his hands, breathing hard. "Zhang, according to media projections, you'll go 23rd to the Nets. They want to beef up their frontcourt and bring in a Chinese player."
Zhang Zhaohua took a drink. "Who knows? Media predictions aren't exactly reliable. Only way to get picked higher is to improve your game. We're in this together. Let's go!"
Soon came the pre-draft combine.
At the Kissimmee Sports Arena in Florida, 80 young basketball elites gathered—this year's draft candidates. The sidelines were packed with scouts, general managers, and coaching staff from all 30 NBA teams, their eyes burning with intensity as they scrutinized every detail, searching for future cornerstones. This was the stage to showcase talent and the moment that would determine destinies.
Zhang Zhaohua and Karl stood courtside, pumping each other up. Among the invited prospects were familiar faces—Aldridge, Adam Morrison, and others. Surprisingly, he spotted another Chinese player: Tang Weidong.
Countless cameras and spotlights focused on a select few prospects projected to go early.
The measurements began. Height, weight, wingspan, standing reach, body fat percentage, vertical leap, bench press... These numbers were the first filter scouts used to evaluate physical talent.
Zhang Zhaohua's numbers came in: 6'10" without shoes, 242 pounds, 6% body fat, 7'1" wingspan, 9'0" standing reach, 28.5" vertical, 242-pound bench press.
Solid numbers—at least among the centers and big men in this draft class.
"Look over there! Morrison's up!"
Zhang Zhaohua turned toward the commotion. Morrison was finishing his measurements—a projected top-three pick known for his physical tools and scoring ability. Definitely one of the most watched prospects.
But in the NCAA Sweet 16, Morrison had fallen to Zhang Zhaohua's buzzer-beater, crashing out before the Elite Eight. Morrison had broken down crying on camera, earning him labels like "crybaby" from some and "passionate competitor" from others.
Morrison spotted Zhang Zhaohua too, his face immediately darkening. "You got lucky in the Sweet 16," he sneered. "This time I'm gonna destroy you."
Zhang Zhaohua didn't respond.
After measurements came the tactical drills and scrimmages. Everyone knew the numbers were just the entry fee—real value showed on the court.
One-on-one drills began. Whether by coincidence or design, Morrison ended up in Zhang Zhaohua's group, immediately drawing the scouts' attention. Two former NCAA rivals squaring off again.
Morrison's lips curled into a contemptuous smile. "Hey, Chinese big man," he said with a provocative tone, "decent measurements. Hope your game isn't as 'ordinary' as your numbers."
The trash talk drew whispers from the onlookers. Zhang Zhaohua met Morrison's gaze calmly, saying nothing. He felt the system's enhanced strength and footwork potential flowing through him—that solid power he'd never experienced in his previous life filled him with quiet confidence. The real competition happened on court.
The one-on-one began. Zhang Zhaohua had the ball first.
Morrison dropped his stance, ready to absorb the post-up. Zhang Zhaohua didn't go for the collision. Using his previous life's experience to read Morrison's defensive positioning and habits, he tapped into the system's footwork potential (67 attribute). Like a fish in water, he exploded into motion—a fluid combination of spin moves and pump fakes, gliding past Morrison's defensive center of gravity.
Morrison couldn't react in time, losing his balance. Zhang Zhaohua caught the ball, smoothly spun around, and rose for a mid-range jumper—one fluid motion, clean and precise. The ball swished through the net.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. The contempt froze on Morrison's face, replaced by shock. His prized strength and defense had been rendered useless by Zhang Zhaohua's fluid footwork!
"Did you see that footwork?" one scout exclaimed. "Nothing like a typical Asian center—more like a European big with better speed!" another added.
Roles reversed—Morrison's turn to attack. Furious, he decided to impose his will the way he knew best: power moves in the post. He came charging like a tank, shoulder driving into Zhang Zhaohua's chest.
Zhang Zhaohua absorbed the impact. Instead of meeting force with force, he used his system-enhanced strength (79) to anchor his base while applying his defensive experience and footwork potential to anticipate positioning, using his body to deflect some of the impact while staying close enough to disrupt Morrison's balance and leverage.
Morrison felt like he was hitting a flexible but immovable wall, his power dissipating awkwardly with nowhere to go. He gritted his teeth and spun around, trying to score from an uncomfortable angle with a hook shot.
The instant the ball left his hands, Zhang Zhaohua used his system-enhanced shot-blocking attribute (72) and wingspan, combined with his read of the ball's trajectory, to explode upward and cleanly tip the ball away!
"SMACK!" The crisp sound of rejection echoed through the gym. The ball bounced away before Zhang Zhaohua secured it.
This time, the sideline buzz reached a fever pitch.
"Blocked! My God, that timing!" "How did he know Morrison was going to do that? His anticipation is incredible!" "That wasn't just athleticism—that was defensive IQ and timing!"
Morrison stood frozen, eyes vacant, disbelieving—his physical advantages had been neutralized by this "average" Chinese center using intelligence and technique!
Over the next few possessions, Zhang Zhaohua didn't chase highlight plays. He showed solid post defense, disrupting several of Morrison's shots; on offense, he exploited Morrison's desperation to save face, either using nimble footwork to create space or demonstrating court vision from the high post, creating opportunities for teammates. Every move had purpose—efficient and smart.
Courtside, scouts were frantically scribbling notes, some even making phone calls.
"This kid's showing way more than just measurements!" "His basketball IQ, defensive awareness, footwork, passing vision... completely undervalued!" "He reads the game, knows how to use his strengths against opponents' strengths." "The measurements are just his floor—his ceiling depends on his IQ and skill. This is the kind of player we need."
A veteran scout from the Boston Celtics pushed up his glasses, eyes gleaming: "This kid's got something! Nothing like a typical Asian center—more like a skilled European big."
A Phoenix Suns analyst's fingers flew across his laptop: "His game film shows tremendous upside. He feels like one of those ancient beasts from the old days—like Wilt Chamberlain."
Countless eyes locked onto Zhang Zhaohua with burning interest, seeing an undervalued treasure, a piece that could change a franchise's future. They were already extending private workout invitations through his agent.
Zhang Zhaohua calmly finished the remaining drills, ignoring Morrison's dejected figure and the stares. He knew his performance today spoke for itself. The attention didn't shock him—he simply evaluated his own play, thinking about how to improve.
Walking out of the gym, his phone rang. Agent Gabriel was calling.
"Zhang, got news for you. The Lakers just traded with the Sixers—they sent the 26th pick and next year's protected first-rounder for the 13th pick."
Gabriel continued, "They're officially inviting you for a private workout! Three days from now, in Los Angeles!"
Zhang Zhaohua took a deep breath, his voice steady and strong: "Got it, Gabriel. Tell the Lakers I'll be there."
This didn't match his previous life. Had his rebirth created a butterfly effect? Had the Lakers made this trade specifically for him? Zhang Zhaohua wondered to himself.