Chapter 695: Crestfallen
To the right of the short brick-red concrete driveway was a small green garden. Lush grass was surrounded by low lilac bushes, and flowers could be vaguely seen within the garden. Two tall, sturdy oak trees grew wildly, their sprawling branches stubbornly extending in different directions, blocking the golden California sun. Fragments of the blue sky could be seen piercing through the treetops, scattering onto the uneven green lawn.
The small garden exuded vitality. Although it looked like it hadn't been well-maintained for ten or fifteen days, that vigorous life force was still running wildly and freely in every corner.
This was Lu Ke's temporary residence during his offseason training this year.
For his rookie offseason, Lu Ke chose to train in Los Angeles.
Originally, Lu Ke thought he would have to spend three months in a hotel, but Leigh objected. The most important thing about offseason training was to be fully focused and committed, and a nice, warm living environment was an indispensable bonus. Compared to a cold hotel, the warmth of a home was more conducive to training.
After some discussion, Lu Ke agreed.
So, Leigh rented a standalone house in Burbank. It was located in a more remote and quieter area behind the famous Beverly Hills, ensuring that Lu Ke could stay away from the harassment of paparazzi and neighbors and focus all his energy on offseason training.
Before going to Shanghai for the promotional event, Lu Ke had already lived here for a long time and had gradually become familiar with the place.
He carried his suitcase and walked around the path next to the garden toward the front door of the house. From a distance, he saw a small figure curled up in the doorway.
He could only vaguely see a silhouette. The first thing that came to Lu Ke's mind was a stray dog, a lost husky, or a runaway golden retriever. But as he got closer, the silhouette gradually became clearer. It was a person.
He was wearing a dark gray hoodie and black jeans, sitting sprawled on the ground with a San Francisco 49ers gold and red baseball cap covering his head and face. His hands were propped on his curled-up knees, and his head was buried between his knees, hiding his entire body.
A black duffel bag was casually thrown next to him. The number "30" was embroidered on it with golden thread, but at this moment, it was covered in mud and dust, looking as if it had gone through countless hardships with its owner to get here. A pair of tattered black basketball shoes, full of history, were also hanging from the duffel bag.
From a quick glance, he looked like a homeless man.
Lu Ke slowed down. He wasn't panicked or impatient. All his muscles were tensed, ready to react at any moment. At the same time, his eyes were on the person, carefully examining every detail, looking for clues to make a judgment.
Vaguely, Lu Ke felt a little strange. A bold and absurd guess popped into his mind, and he couldn't help but laugh. His body remained tense, and he stopped a few steps away, then shouted, "Stephen?"
The curled-up figure suddenly raised his head and looked around in a daze for a moment, searching for the source of the voice.
A full beard covered most of his face, making him look messy and unkempt, just like a homeless person. His misty eyes seemed to be half-asleep. His thick eyebrows were tightly knitted together, revealing a gloomy and defeated look. His entire body was shrouded in a gray fog, like the rainy season in Seattle, so thick it was hard to dissipate.
Although he looked a little decadent, and his messy beard almost changed his appearance, Lu Ke could still faintly recognize that, as he had guessed, it was Stephen Curry.
Curry looked around. His focus slowly came together, and finally, his eyes landed on Lu Ke. Then, his eyes, which looked like a lost deer, instantly became sad. He didn't speak or show any expression, but a thick sense of frustration was faintly revealed, as if two big mountains were pressing down on his shoulders.
"Bambi," Curry called out in a low voice. His hoarse voice was full of fatigue and a hint of a cry.
The shallow smile on Lu Ke's face froze. The joy and cheerfulness of seeing his friend gradually subsided. His eyebrows slightly furrowed, and a hint of seriousness appeared in his eyes.
Lu Ke walked up to Curry, squatted down, and looked into his eyes, which looked like a lost husky. He deliberately showed a cheerful smile again. "When did you get here? Why didn't you call me in advance? I was away for two days. Did you wait here for two days? The door wasn't locked; you could have just gone in."
"My season is over," Curry said out of the blue. He then let out a heavy sigh, as if his entire body had gone limp. Although his words were simple, they revealed a disheartened gloom. It was clear that he hadn't finished speaking, and sure enough, the second half of the sentence came right after. "I got injured again."
Curry tightly closed his eyes, and a thick grayness overflowed from him.
Just two sentences, but for a professional player, they were so heavy that it was suffocating.
A thousand words were on the tip of his tongue, but Lu Ke didn't say much in the end. He patted Curry heavily on the shoulder. "Get up. Let's go inside first. I'm about to watch some game film. How about it? Interested in joining me?"
As he spoke, Lu Ke stood up again. Without waiting for Curry's answer, he picked up Curry's duffel bag, pushed open the door of the house, and walked straight in. Curry, who was sitting on the ground with his knees hugged, was a little stunned, but his brain wasn't working. So, he didn't say anything and stumbled to his feet, following Lu Ke's footsteps into the house awkwardly.
"Just sit on the sofa in the living room."
Lu Ke's voice echoed in the empty hall. For a moment, it was impossible to tell where it was coming from, but Curry's eyes immediately caught the projector placed in the center of the hall, and the corner of his mouth twitched helplessly. "I seriously think that Epson should ask you to be their spokesperson."
The decor and layout here were completely different from Lu Ke's house in San Francisco. It was more vintage and complex. It was clear that the original owner was an artist or a collector. There were traces of art everywhere, such as blue and white porcelain flower pots, post-modern pop art paintings, and ancient Roman bronze statues.
But the two houses had one thing in common: the incredibly eye-catching projector, which even sacrificed the overall aesthetic of the interior decor.
"I'll pass that on to my agent. Maybe I really have a chance." Lu Ke's voice had a light, cheerful chuckle. You could feel the exhaustion after a whole day of training, but his overall mental state was still positive. Unconsciously, the atmosphere in the room became lighter.
But Curry still felt a deep sense of frustration. He felt a little listless. Following the direction of the voice, he finally found Lu Ke, who was busy in the kitchen. His feet were constantly moving between the refrigerator and the stove, which made Curry raise his eyebrows. "God, Bambi, are you making dinner now?"
Originally, after a long trip, Lu Ke hadn't decided how to solve the dinner problem. But now that he had unexpectedly seen Curry, and a very disheartened Curry at that, Lu Ke changed his mind and decided to stay at home.
"Yeah, for you, too. How about it? Are you ready?" Lu Ke's words made Curry's face change immediately.
The last time Lu Ke tried to cook scrambled eggs for them, he almost burned down the kitchen. The memory was still vivid, not to mention the eggs that looked like charcoal. They were not food but poison.
Curry began to rack his brain, thinking about how to politely decline Lu Ke's "kindness." Then, Lu Ke's hearty laughter came from the kitchen, as if he had seen through his worry and fear. "Don't worry, it's not the kind where I have to use the stove. I'm just putting the pre-cooked food in the microwave."
"Because they were worried about my cooking skills, Judy, my nutritionist, even had to stick the specific microwaving instructions on the outside of each food container. What temperature to heat it to, how many minutes, and so on. God, they treat me like a German," Lu Ke said playfully.
Curry didn't say anything. He leaned against the back of the sofa in the living room, quietly watching the busy Lu Ke in the kitchen.
"Now, I eat according to my nutritionist's meal plan every day. All three meals are already scheduled. I can't help it; I'm doing physical training, and it's simply torture. Now, the only thing in the refrigerator is my nutritional meals. A dedicated staff member restocks my refrigerator every day, so you'll have to eat this food with me today. Or do you want me to order takeout for you?"
In the kitchen, Lu Ke skillfully started working. His relaxed yet purposeful movements showed that this had become a regular part of his life. Unconsciously, Curry's agitation and anxiety gradually settled down. Although he was still in a heavy mood, he felt a little calmer.
Curry waved his hand slightly. "No need. The nutritional meal plan is great." He was silent for a moment and then added in a low voice, "I also need to gain weight and muscle."
"Great." Lu Ke snapped his fingers. "By the way, can you help me turn on the projector? The remote is on the coffee table, or on the sofa."
"God, you're not serious, are you? Eating dinner while watching film?" Curry's eyes widened, and he asked in disbelief.
"Why not?" Lu Ke said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "It's the offseason now. After every day of training, I have a fixed three hours of game film. This is absolutely indispensable. For a quarterback, this training is just as important as strength training and skill training. You can't be lazy."
Lu Ke looked up and saw Curry's stunned expression. "What are you standing there for? Hurry, turn on the projector. I'll be done in ten minutes at most. So, my dear, are you ready for dinner?" His playful tone made Curry laugh out loud.
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