By late August, after nearly two months of training and warm-ups, Han suited up for Team China on the World Cup stage.
The fans were fired up.
Some were chanting about history.
Some were calling for a championship.
It sounded crazy—but it wasn't totally baseless.
For one, Team USA wasn't bringing their A-list.
No Durant. No LeBron. No Steph. No Harden.
Their roster was led by… Tatum and Mitchell.
In FIBA's pre-tournament power rankings, Team East Asia was third, behind only Serbia and the USA.
They also had the home-court advantage.
No jet lag. No hostile crowds. Just pure adrenaline.
And with their seeding, they ended up in the easiest group: Ivory Coast, Venezuela, and Poland.
Everything lined up—timing, location, momentum.
This time, they wouldn't disappoint.
Group stage? A breeze.
Han dropped 35 on Poland in cruise control, winning by 20+.
The fans barely blinked. They expected it.
Team China cruised into the second round as group leaders.
Their first loss came in a gritty matchup against Argentina.
That put them on a collision course with Serbia in the quarterfinals.
Han vs. Jokic—former teammates, now facing off on the world stage.
It was a battle to the wire.
But Han came out on top, leading the team to a 94–91 win.
Team China was in the semifinals—for the first time in history.
Then came the shocker: France upset Team USA.
Which meant the semis were China vs. France.
---
The game started rough.
France came out swinging, leading by double digits at the half.
But then?
History repeated itself.
Just like the 2015 Asia Championship, the home crowd roared back to life.
Fueled by the noise, and led by Han and Li Kaier, Team China clawed their way back—eventually taking the lead before the third quarter ended.
France, so composed when leading, suddenly unraveled once it got tight.
Sloppy. Frazzled. Beaten.
Final score: 85–79.
Team China was heading to the World Cup Final.
Even before the last game, the celebration began.
The worst they could do now was silver.
---
Pregame — Final vs. Spain
In the tunnel before tipoff, Han stood with his hands behind his back, eyes fixed on the light pouring in from the arena. A thousand chants echoed down the hall—his name, his country, fragments of the anthem.
He didn't bounce on his heels or crack jokes. He just stood there. Breathing it in.
Behind him, Ding nudged him with a grin. "You nervous?"
Han gave a half-smile. "No. Just ready."
A trainer handed him his jersey. He stared at the red and gold for a second longer than usual before pulling it on.
Then the music swelled, and they walked out to war.
---
Despite being underdogs, Team China didn't fold.
They kept pace. Shot for shot. Possession for possession.
Spain, minus the Gasol brothers, weren't what they used to be—but they were still tough, disciplined, and experienced.
By the second half, they started to pull ahead.
Fans went quiet.
It felt like déjà vu—2008 all over again.
Back then, China led Spain for most of the game—only to collapse from fatigue.
Now, on the Finals stage, history threatened to repeat itself.
But this time, the difference was clear:
Han and Li Kaier.
Running their two-man game to perfection, they attacked the midrange, shredded the defense, and broke Spain's will—one shot at a time.
And the worst part for Spain?
Han didn't fade.
FIBA games are shorter, more physical, and brutal on rhythm-heavy NBA stars. But for Han?
It just meant he had more gas left in the tank.
And once he locked in?
He was the best player on Earth. NBA or not.
He dropped 51 points in the final—on efficient shooting, in every way possible.
Final score: 103–98.
Team China were World Champions.
Han's final tournament stat line: 33 points, 7 assists, and 6 rebounds per game, shooting over 55% from the field and 47% from three.
It was one of the most dominant World Cup runs in international basketball history.
They hadn't just won—they'd made a statement.
---
The buzzer had barely sounded when the bench emptied.
Li Kaier let out a roar, slapping the court. Yi Jianlian stood frozen, hands gripping his head in disbelief. Coaches leaped, shouting and embracing in stunned joy.
Around them, the crowd erupted.
A wall of red flags burst into motion. Fans screamed, cried, clutched one another like they'd just witnessed the impossible.
Some jumped into the aisles. Others fell to their knees, faces buried in their hands. Decades of heartbreak, frustration, and waiting all released in a single, deafening roar.
It was chaos.
It was catharsis.
But Han?
He didn't move.
He stood near the free-throw line, breathing heavily, hands on his hips, staring at the scoreboard like he needed another moment to believe it was real.
51 points.
Gold medal.
History.
The crowd kept surging. Cameras swarmed. The trophy gleamed courtside, polished and waiting.
But Han didn't rush toward it.
Instead, he looked up toward the stands—toward the sea of red, toward the thousands of fans who had waited their entire lives for this moment.
His eyes found his parents, standing together with Anjali. His mother's quiet pride said everything words couldn't.
And for the first time in a long, long time…
He didn't feel like an outsider looking in.
He belonged.
---
Later, during the medal ceremony, Han stood at the podium in a red tracksuit—gold medal around his neck, FIBA World Cup MVP freshly announced, microphone in his hand.
No NBA lights. No sponsors. No playoff tension.
Just the echoes of the anthem fading, the flag rising above him, and the quiet weight of everything he'd carried up to this point.
He didn't speak long.
But what he said resonated far beyond the arena.
"In my first life, I dreamed of playing for my country."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"In my second—I finally did."
A slight smile.
"And we didn't just show up. We won the whole damn thing."
His eyes drifted briefly to his parents in the crowd, to his mother, standing silently with Anjali beside her.
Their eyes met—brief but meaningful. Her soft smile held decades of quiet understanding. Anjali gently squeezed his mother's hand, watching him proudly.
He took a quiet breath.
"He would've been proud."
Another pause. Softer this time.
"I am too."
---
Across the world, the reactions came pouring in.
Back in the U.S., ESPN broke down the moment as it happened...
Rece Davis (host): "Good morning, and welcome back to NBA Today. If you're just tuning in—there's history out of Beijing. Team China has won the FIBA World Cup for the first time ever… and they didn't just win it. They went through Serbia, France, and Spain to do it. And at the center of it all? Han Sen."
Kendrick Perkins: "Man, I was up early, slippers on, pancakes ready—and Han Sen gave us a damn show. Fifty-one points in a FIBA final? I don't care where the game's being played, that's a statement. That's not just hoopin'. That's legacy."
Malika Andrews (on-site in Beijing): "You could feel it from tip-off. The energy inside the arena was unreal. But when Han caught fire in the third quarter, it felt different. He wasn't just dominating—he was leading a moment. You could see the weight of it in the fans, in his teammates. It meant something bigger than just basketball."
JJ Redick: "And listen—we know how American fans usually treat the FIBA World Cup. It's not the NBA. It's not the Olympics. But this run? What Han did? You had to stop and pay attention. It felt like a turning point. Not just for China, but for how we view international dominance."
Rece Davis: "A lot of folks already saw Han as the face of the NBA after that Cleveland three-peat. But this—winning at home, leading China to their first-ever world title—it feels like his legacy just stepped into global territory."
JJ Redick: "Exactly. He didn't need this to prove anything. The man's already got seven rings, already a lock for the Hall. But he still went after this like it mattered. And it did. Not because it's a bigger title—but because it's a different one. And it means everything to his country."
Kendrick Perkins: "And look—he didn't act like a guy chasing headlines. He let the moment breathe. No dancing, no flexing. Just stood there like, Yeah. We did that. That's a grown-man win right there."
Malika Andrews: "When the buzzer sounded, he didn't even move. Just looked up—at the flags, at the crowd. You could feel the emotion. He wasn't soaking in attention. He was soaking in meaning."
Rece Davis: "And then during the medal ceremony… he had that one line—'He would've been proud.' We don't know who he meant, but the whole arena got quiet. You could feel how personal it was."
JJ Redick: "Could've been a coach, a teammate, family—we don't know. But you felt it. That line had weight."
Kendrick Perkins: "This ain't just about FIBA. This was about legacy. About culture. You talk MJ. You talk Kobe. At some point, you gotta put Han Sen in that room. Because what he just did? That's impact. That's global."
Rece Davis: "We'll have more coverage throughout the day—highlights, interviews, some reaction around the league. But let's say it plain: China are world champions. And Han Sen just gave basketball another moment we won't forget."
[Fade to highlight reel: Han's turnaround jumpers, dimes to Li Kaier, clutch midrange buckets, the final three, and the buzzer. Music swells. Crowd explodes.]
---
After the celebrations had quieted, Han stood by the window of his hotel suite, looking down at the quiet streets. The city below was still buzzing faintly with leftover excitement.
There was a gentle knock at the door. He turned around slowly.
Liang Rui stepped inside, softly closing the door behind her. For a moment, neither spoke.
She crossed the room and stood beside him, gazing out at the same city lights.
"It's beautiful," she said quietly. "Seeing everyone so happy tonight."
He nodded slowly, thoughtful. "I just wish he could've seen it."
Liang Rui touched his arm gently.
"In a way," she said softly, "he did."
Han turned slightly, meeting her eyes.
She smiled faintly, reassuringly. "He wanted this more than anything."
A pause.
"And tonight, you gave it to him. You gave it to all of us."
Han didn't answer. He didn't have to.
Instead, he reached out and held her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
It was enough.
---
Translator's Note: This marks the end of the acceptance arc. Since the chapter felt a bit short, I added a media segment to round it out.
What did you think of the arc as a whole? Would love to hear your thoughts.