Chapter 234: The Afterglow of Victory
(Not the end yet! Don’t start tossing confetti!)
Chen Yilun slowly opened his eyes.
An unfamiliar ceiling greeted him, and at that moment, our teacher Chen Yilun felt like his throat was completely dry.
Struggling to sit up, he glanced at his reflection—hair a complete mess.
Little by little, his memories began to return.
After the game ended yesterday, Durant—just as everyone expected—was crowned Finals MVP.
Once the ceremony wrapped up, despite trying to slip away, Chen Yilun couldn’t escape.
In the players’ tunnel, his teammates cornered him and dumped an entire bucket of ice-cold Gatorade over his head.
His expensive, custom-tailored suit instantly turned into a sticky, fruit-scented disaster.
Everything after that was a blur.
He vaguely remembered everyone trying to toast him, and in his frustration over the ruined suit, he took it out on his drinks.
And then... he ended up here.
“Please, don’t let this turn into one of those ‘only a few people left’ stories.”
Rubbing his pounding head, Chen Yilun staggered toward the living room.
This whole situation felt way too much like the setup to some Hollywood comedy classic.
When he reached the living room, Malone was sitting by the window, reading a newspaper. Spotting Chen Yilun, he chuckled.
“Boss Chen is awake?”
Malone pointed at a glass of milk on the table.
“You were wild last night—chasing those young guys around drinking. CJ was under so much pressure he practically turned into a jet engine.”
“That bad?”
Chen Yilun picked up the milk and took a big gulp, the burning in his throat finally starting to fade.
“I didn’t do anything too embarrassing, did I?”
At that, Malone tilted his head, thinking for a moment.
“Not really. But after drinking everyone under the table, you and Harden hit it off somehow. Don’t ask me why, but you two became inseparable.”
The grin on Malone’s face grew wider as he continued.
“You pulled Harden aside and insisted on becoming sworn brothers. You even talked about sealing it with blood—scared the hell out of him. Then you promised you’d help him win a ring.”
“Pfft! Cough, cough—!”
Chen Yilun nearly choked mid-sip, spraying milk everywhere.
“I said that?!”
“You sure did!”
Malone nodded eagerly.
“Jimmy even tried to stop you, but you were so strong he couldn’t hold you back.”
“Alright, alright, enough!”
Chen Yilun waved his hands in defeat, lowering his head in embarrassment.
He really hadn’t seen that coming.
After years of holding himself together, his composure had finally snapped.
“Come on, clean up and get ready.”
After enjoying his embarrassment for a moment, Malone laughed and helped him up.
“Divac’s already getting things set up. Everyone’s waiting for you to get back and take charge.”
“Got it.”
The moment work was mentioned, Chen Yilun perked up.
After all, hard work had always been second nature to him.
While the others could celebrate and parade through the streets, all the pressure now rested squarely on Chen Yilun’s shoulders.
His real battlefield was just beginning.
This championship had elevated the Kings to the very top of the league—but it also painted a target on their backs.
Now, countless teams were circling, eager to take a bite out of their success.
To make matters worse, every player the Kings had let go—LaVine, Mozgov, Crowder—had turned out to be surprisingly valuable elsewhere.
Now, anything bearing Chen Yilun’s name was a golden seal of quality. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the Kings’ expiring contracts.
“Wolves at the door, huh,”
Chen Yilun muttered, glancing back at the two crystal trophies gleaming on the bookshelf behind him.
They were the best proof of his achievements: two General Manager of the Year awards.
“The Jokić situation’s still pretty stable,”
Blackstone said, flipping through a stack of documents.
“Lucky for us, Jokić didn’t make the All-Star team this year, so the designated rookie clause didn’t trigger. That gives us more flexibility.”
If it had, Jokić would’ve qualified for a five-year supermax deal starting at 30% of the cap with an 8% annual raise.
If he signed that, he’d surpass last year’s Conley as the league’s highest-paid player.
“Let’s move quickly,”
Chen Yilun said, setting the tone for the negotiation.
“Get the extension done before those old foxes make their move.”
That was his biggest concern.
Right now, as the team’s third option, Jokić wasn’t expecting a massive contract.
But the problem was, even if he wanted peace, the league wouldn’t let him have it.
Other general managers were bound to throw out huge offers, forcing him to match.
Not out of kindness, of course.
If Chen Yilun hesitated to pay up, they’d steal Jokić away, gutting the Kings’ most important playmaker.
If he matched, they’d still drain the Kings’ cap space.
In short—it was a lose-lose trap. No one wanted to let him re-sign Jokić easily.
“Here’s what we’ll do.”
Chen Yilun tapped his finger lightly against the table.
“We’ve been planning to part ways with CJ on good terms, right? And we’ve kept that quiet so far. Maybe we can turn that to our advantage.”
The moment he said it, Blackstone’s eyes lit up.
“Exactly! We can use CJ as a distraction.”
Talking with a smart person was always refreshing—they got it right away.
From the outside, it looked like the Kings’ biggest problems were Durant exercising his player option, and the pending extensions for CJ and Jokić.
That made CJ the perfect smokescreen to divert attention.
“I get it!”
Blackstone gathered his things and stood.
“So how big should we make this smokescreen?”
“Let’s peg it a little below a standard All-Star deal,”
Chen Yilun thought aloud.
“Five years, around a hundred million.”
It was fair. CJ had earned that—he’d made an All-Star team, been the starting point guard for a championship team.
He could pass, score, and run the offense. Aside from his defense, there wasn’t much to criticize.
And since his rookie contract had just ended, most GMs still saw plenty of potential left in him.
As for Jokić, he hadn’t fully proven he could shine on his own yet.
Many in the media still called him a system player for the Kings, and being a second-round pick made others underestimate him even more.
So in a lot of people’s eyes, CJ’s trade value was higher than Jokić’s.
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