After advancing to the NCAA tournament's top 32, the Texas Longhorns were given a five-day break.
But don't mistake rest for a vacation.
Chen Yan didn't slack off for a second. Every single day, he was moving back and forth between the training gym and his dorm room, dragging Kevin Durant along for the ride. The entire Longhorns squad followed suit. No distractions, no parties—just pure grind.
At this point in the season, no one dared to think about anything else. This was March Madness.
Chen Yan's explosive performance in the previous game made headlines across the country. The kid went viral. One game and his name was suddenly on everyone's lips.
That breakout showing became a huge source of motivation for the rest of the Longhorns squad. Everyone turned it up a notch in training, chasing their own chance at glory.
They all wanted to become the next Chen Yan—a hero, a highlight, a headline.
During the break, Chen Yan's urine test results came back. Everything was clean—no stimulants, no banned substances. Normal across the board.
This report finally shut down some of the doubts being whispered online, and it meant Chen Yan could officially step onto the court for the Round of 32.
Over the past few days, Chen Yan could clearly feel the shift in his popularity.
When he walked through campus, girls would randomly strike up conversations. He'd find little notes left for him every day—some sweet, some bold, some just bizarre.
"Chen, you can't possibly read all those notes. Gimme some," Durant grumbled, eyeing the pile of folded pink paper Chen Yan stuffed into his drawer.
"You're the one flexing on social media every day, liking girls' posts nonstop. What do you want these for?" Chen Yan shot him a glance.
Durant wasn't the type to pull girls with money or looks. He ran entirely on likes. A rare breed.
"Bro, sometimes you gotta practice offline too..."
"KD, lemme tell you something. These girls? They're not the easy kind. You can't handle 'em." Chen Yan raised his brows and chuckled, shoving the notes deeper into his cabinet. "Leave it to me."
Durant was speechless.
...
Five days flew by. Game day came knocking, and the Longhorns were set to face off against their Round of 32 opponents—the University of Southern California.
USC, based out in L.A., didn't have quite the same shine as UCLA in terms of basketball history and prestige. But in recent years, they'd been rising.
Led by top scorer Nick Young, USC had punched its ticket to March Madness two years in a row. Last year, they even made it to the Sweet 16.
Still, draft sites weren't going crazy over Nick Young. Most had him projected to go mid-to-late first round, somewhere between picks 15 to 20—just outside the lottery.
It wasn't about talent or mentality—both were solid. The issue was age.
Nick Young had repeated high school five times due to academic issues—straight up outrageous. By the time he hit his junior year in the NCAA, scouts were questioning how much upside he had left.
Aside from Nick Young, another name worth noting on USC's roster was Taj Gibson—their athletic big man.
Gibson was a rim protector with speed and hops. He averaged 2.3 blocks per game that season and anchored USC's interior defense.
His offense, though? Basic. Mostly dunks and the occasional mid-range jumper.
Still, Gibson had been named to the Pac-10 All-Freshman Team, and plenty of scouts saw NBA potential in him.
Before tip-off, media predictions leaned toward this being a tightly contested battle.
March 23, the Round of 32 kicked off!
The Texas vs. USC matchup was scheduled at the American Airlines Center—home of the Dallas Mavericks.
Before warm-ups, Chen Yan and Durant walked into the arena with instant noodles in hand, calm as ever. Like it was just another pickup game.
"KD! Smoke 'em!"
"Chen!! Look this way!"
"Let's go, Longhorns!!"
Fans in the stands were already fired up, many of them shouting Chen Yan's name. The energy in the arena was electric, and Chen could feel it in his bones.
He wasn't some benchwarmer anymore. He was the guy now.
"Hey, Chen! I'm George from Fox Sports!"
As players warmed up, Chen was approached by a reporter.
These days, he never turned down an interview. If he wanted to make the NBA, getting hot in March Madness wasn't enough. Media attention was another key to raising his draft stock.
More camera time, more exposure—that was the game now.
"Hello!" Chen greeted him with a polite nod.
"The Round of 32 is about to begin. Chen, do you feel confident heading into this matchup?"
"Of course," Chen replied without hesitation. "I came here to win."
"Did you make any special preparations leading up to this game?"
"Hmm... does eating, sleeping, and playing cards count? If not, then nah."
The reporter chuckled. "Who do you think poses the biggest threat on the Texas squad?"
Chen smiled slightly, then shook his head. "Nobody. The outcome of this game is in our hands."
Reporter George couldn't help but smile after hearing that. Chen Yan's personality was even more flamboyant than he had imagined!
Media folks loved guys like Chen Yan. Without players like him, where would the headlines come from?
After a brief pause, George got back to business.
"Chen, Nick Young just told us in an interview that he's going to beat you one-on-one tonight. Any thoughts on that?"
Chen Yan casually shrugged. "I think Nick Young's in the wrong profession. He should be doing stand-up comedy. Dude's hilarious."
George chuckled. "So... you mean you'll beat him tonight?"
Chen Yan grinned. "Let's put it this way—if he's not crying by the end of the game, I'll consider it a loss."
The room burst into laughter. Chen Yan was cocky, yeah, but somehow it didn't come off as annoying. He had this unique blend of humor and swagger that made people want to root for him.
——
"WOOOOOOOW!! What the hell did we just witness?!"
"Chen Yan caught an alley-oop from DJ Augustin right before halftime, spun 180 degrees mid-air, and hit a reverse layup!"
Swish! The ball dropped through the net just as the buzzer sounded. The crowd exploded.
A middle-aged white man near the front row jumped to his feet, accidentally spilling beer all over the floor. That man? None other than Dallas Mavericks owner, Mark Cuban.
While most NBA owners saw their teams as just business investments, Cuban was different—he was a real basketball head. Whenever he had time, he'd pull up courtside and show support.
Tonight, when he heard March Madness was hitting the American Airlines Center, he snagged a front-row seat immediately.
"Chen! You should've dunked that!" Durant ran over, hyped as hell, wanting to talk about the highlight play.
Chen laughed. "Chill, man. Just warming up."
"Aight then! Second half, let's cook these dudes!"
The two walked into the tunnel, still cracking jokes.
Behind them, Nick Young stood frozen with a "???" look on his face.
You call that a warm-up? That's my full highlight reel...
Nick shook his head, muttering curses under his breath as he headed for the locker room.
Score at the half: Texas Longhorns 38, USC 22. A 16-point lead.
USC didn't just fall behind—they got manhandled with no real fight in return.
Texas ran a simple game plan: let Durant and Chen Yan take turns cooking in isolation. And guess what? USC had no answers.
Coach Rick Barnes, often roasted for his "give-it-to-Durant" offense, was finally able to clap back with pride: "Fine, then I'll give it to Chen Yan!"
Although Chen was still technically a bench player, his breakout performance in the last game—and in recent practices—earned him serious trust. Coach gave him 13 minutes in the first half, even more than the starting shooting guard, AJ Abrams.
And Chen made sure to deliver.
Every time he touched the floor, he torched Nick Young. Straight-line drives, ankle-breakers, mid-range pull-ups—whatever he wanted, he got. He was relentless.
Inside, USC's bigs kept yelling at Nick for letting Chen in too easily, but all Nick could do was throw up his hands. Bro, I'm lucky I still got ankles after that last crossover. You expect me to lock him up too?
Nick's D had always been iffy—mostly an effort thing. But tonight, effort or not, he just couldn't hang.
If he played up close, Chen blew by him. If he sagged off, Chen pulled up with that smooth mid-range J. And if he tried to read the rhythm, he got spun like a top with that man-ball combo.
Nick was in hell.
On defense, Chen didn't try to guard everything. He locked in on Nick's shooting—let him try to drive if he wanted.
Scouting reports said Nick preferred mid-range jumpers over slashing and drawing contact. His style was flashy, old-school.
Chen's defense wasn't elite yet, and if he tried to guard everything, he'd end up guarding nothing. So he bet on the jumper—and it paid off.
Nick kept trying to dazzle with spins and pull-ups, but Chen's wingspan and bounce let him contest every time.
And when he saw an opening?
Boom—[God-Level Steal] activated.
He swiped 4 steals in the first half alone, 3 of them straight off Nick. Each time he did, he turned it into a fast break—lightning quick, no one could stop him.
By halftime, the stats told the story:
Chen Yan: 17 points, 4 rebounds, 4 steals
Nick Young: 7 points, 1 assist, 5 turnovers
One side was putting on a show. The other side was watching it.
Before the game, Nick Young: "I'm gonna destroy this dude one-on-one!"
At halftime, Nick Young: "Man, someone gimme the ball... I just wanna go home…"