Long after the noise in Okinawa subsided, the image endured: Li Hongquan standing near mid-court in a white No 14 jersey, shoulders shaking, tears he had fought back for years finally spilling out. From the court to the locker room, the sobs did not stop.

China's comeback victory over Japan will be recorded as an important step in its 2027 FIBA World Cup qualifying campaign. For Li, it marked something far more personal. It was the night a promise made as a teenager finally materialized — his official national team debut.

Li had shed his youthful rawness over five years of perseverance and hardship, rising from wearing the No 14 jersey of the Shanghai Sharks to donning the No 14 for China's national team. From committing to Chinese citizenship to enduring repeated cuts from national training camps, he had finally realized his dream of representing his country.

For years, he had imagined what it would feel like. When the moment arrived, he held himself together until the final buzzer finally released him.

"No one knows better than I do how much I sacrificed for this day," he said afterward.

At 24, Li's path to the national team was neither direct nor guaranteed. Born in 2001 and raised in Toronto to Chinese parents, he grew up between cultures, but never uncertain about which jersey he wanted to wear. His grandmother, who largely raised him, instilled in him a belief that love of country was not abstract but actionable.

"I want to dedicate these two victories to my grandmother," he said after China's second win of the recent qualifying window over Chinese Taipei in Manila on Sunday.

"She raised me and always taught me to love my country and contribute to it. Though she has passed away, I believe she's watching from above and giving me strength."

At 16, he chose to represent China. "When I'm capable, I want to fight for my motherland," he said at the time.

The statement was bold for a teenager. Living up to it required patience.

Physically, Li developed into a distinctive forward. At 1.98 meters and 102 kilograms, he combined compact size with imposing strength. Years of American-style training shaped his physical, aggressive game, allowing him to stand out early in Canada.

Supported unconditionally by his parents, he benefited from a mature and specialized training system. Coaches nurtured his agility, and he consistently expanded his skill set. Years of youth soccer also gave him enviable stamina.

At high school, he played well in the Ontario Scholastic Basketball Association, earning All-Star recognition and becoming the first Chinese player selected for the prestigious 2020 BioSteel All Canadian Basketball Games. NCAA Division I offers followed, and his stint at Lehigh University refined his versatility.

But his long-term vision never shifted. In 2021, he returned to China to join the Shanghai Sharks, beginning his professional career in the CBA.

The production came. The national team breakthrough did not.

Under successive coaches, Li became a familiar figure at training camps. He played in warm-up games, remaining on the edge of final tournament rosters.

Competition after competition passed without his inclusion. He was also left out of the 2025 Asian Cup squad.

He described the stretch as being "a regular in camp, absent in competition".

Still, he stayed on.

"Playing for the country has always been my dream," Li said firmly.

"I hope my performance can inspire other young Chinese players overseas who are chasing their basketball dreams."

That dream fueled his relentless effort in every training session and game.

His dedication earned praise from Shanghai head coach Lu Wei, who called him a model player — humble and hardworking — and expressed hope that he would shine for the national team.

This season, Li averaged 11.7 points and 5.4 rebounds, shooting 37.6 percent from three-point range, strengthening calls for his inclusion.

With the current World Cup qualifying campaign, opportunity finally came knocking.

After early setbacks left China in a precarious position, Li earned another callup. During in-house testing, he ranked first on the team in both three-point and free-throw shooting. This time, when the 12-man roster was finalized for the road game against Japan, his name was on it.

Off the court, though, there was another life-changing development unfolding.

Days before the Japan game, Li's daughter was born. He learned the news while traveling with the team. He had prepared himself for the possibility of missing the moment; his wife's due date overlapped with the qualifiers.

He had even declined participation in the CBA All-Star three-point contest to be present for his child's birth.

"My family and I agreed I would give everything to the national team," he said. "She supported me unconditionally."

The gratitude in his voice carried a trace of guilt — he was on the road while his wife shouldered those first days alone. Between practices, he would video call home. "She looks like me," he said softly. "Her eyes get bigger every day."

When he finally stepped onto the floor against Japan, he did so under the weight of several layers of emotion — years of waiting, a newborn daughter thousands of kilometers away and the distinct pressure that comes with wearing the national jersey.

"Anyone who says they weren't nervous would be lying," he admitted. "The pressure is completely different."

He logged 13 minutes and 28 seconds off the bench: three points, one rebound. The box score was modest; the impact was stronger than the numbers suggested. China rallied and won.

The tears came only after it was secure.

If Okinawa was release, Manila was reinforcement. In China's subsequent game against Chinese Taipei, Li delivered nine points and 11 rebounds in just over 27 minutes, including four offensive boards — more than the entire opposing team. His plus-minus of +21 reflected his influence. During his time on the court, China outscored its opponent decisively.

Late in that contest, after teammate Zhu Junlong was injured, Li calmly converted two free throws, added a put-back, and executed consecutive defensive stops in the final minute to help close out the game.

From three points and one rebound to nine and 11, the progression was immediate. Yet he resisted framing it as vindication.

"I'm not fully satisfied," he said. "I didn't showcase my shooting as well as I could have. But I'm happy I helped the team."

In the span of two qualifiers, Li Hongquan moved from hopeful inclusion to tangible contributor. More importantly, he transformed a private vow into lived experience.

Now, his national team career begins in parallel with his daughter's life. There will be setbacks ahead — international basketball rarely offers smooth trajectories. But the foundation is firmer than it was weeks ago.

"I'm grateful that I never gave up," he said.