Chapter 377: The New Team
No one knew whether it was because Chen Yilun had called Malone out during the earlier internal meeting, or if the Kings had simply managed to adjust on their own. Either way, throughout December, the Kings barely lost a game. Even in the Christmas Day showdown against the new-generation Lakers Big Three, the Kings won with ease.
As a result, Chen Yilun had been enjoying an unusually relaxed stretch.
“Clink!”
Two champagne flutes touched, producing a crisp, pleasant sound.
“I’ve been in North America for so many years,”
Chen Yilun said after taking a sip of champagne, smacking his lips lightly.
“This is the New Year that’s felt the most festive so far.”
Standing behind him, Mr. Tsai let out a chuckle.
“You can come more often in the future. Our family is planning to settle in New York anyway. We can visit each other regularly.”
As he spoke, Mr. Tsai added with a hint of suggestion,
“It’s just that Sacramento is still pretty far from New York. If you come stay with me, I’ll buy you the same kind of house right across from mine.”
“No way!”
Chen Yilun burst out laughing and waved his hand.
“I couldn’t afford a place like that.”
“What are you two talking about that you’re so happy?”
Mr. Tsai’s wife, Michelle Wu, walked over with a smile.
“Dinner’s almost ready. You two should drink less. Go wash your hands and get ready to eat.”
Mrs. Michelle came from a wealthy family in Taiwan and had received an elite education from a young age. Because Mr. Tsai was preparing to enter the sports world, she had spent just a few months fully grasping the North American sports operation model.
“Yilun, the thing we discussed before should be put on the agenda now,”
Mr. Tsai said, opening the topic once they sat down at the table.
“No problem,” Chen Yilun replied.
“Just tell me which management people you’re interested in. Aside from Malone—he’s untouchable—anyone else under me is fair game as long as you say the word. If it’s someone from another team, I’ve got some connections in the league. I can help make introductions.”
As he spoke, Chen Yilun picked up a slice of braised beef and chewed slowly.
The flavor was spot-on, deeply satisfying.
Mr. Tsai exchanged a glance with Mrs. Michelle before continuing.
“Honestly, I don’t have anything too ambitious in mind. For the general manager position, the person I like most is still your former assistant—Peja.”
“Peja?”
Chen Yilun froze for a moment.
That name genuinely caught him off guard.
Back then, Peja had essentially been his personal assistant—put bluntly, his private secretary. Among Chen Yilun’s current subordinates, whether it was McNair or Graham, both were clearly more capable than Peja.
And yet Mr. Tsai was asking for Peja?
Seeing the confusion on Chen Yilun’s face, Mr. Tsai smiled.
“The reason I value Peja is because he’s honest and steady. And having followed you for so many years, he must’ve learned a thing or two from you.”
“Peja was one of your first trusted people after you came to Sacramento, right?”
With that, Mr. Tsai’s meaning became unmistakably clear.
He wasn’t interested in Peja’s professional ability at all—what he valued was Peja’s relationship with Chen Yilun. As long as Chen Yilun stayed in the league, keeping Peja on hand meant the Kings and the Nets would remain firmly bound together.
“I understand,”
Chen Yilun said after a moment, nodding.
“What about the others? Any thoughts on the coaching side?”
“I do have someone in mind for head coach,”
Mr. Tsai continued.
“The Nets’ current head coach, Kenny Atkinson. His philosophy on team-building and player development is solid. For now, I don’t really want to replace him.”
What a pity.
Chen Yilun muttered to himself inwardly.
Atkinson was a rare presence among NBA head coaches. He excelled at building teams from scratch—whether it was developing Russell into an All-Star or later pulling the Cavaliers out of the mess after James left. It all showed his ability to turn something ordinary into something special.
If Mr. Tsai had wanted to fire Atkinson, Chen Yilun would’ve moved immediately to bring him over. Unfortunately, Mr. Tsai had no intention of letting him go.
“But for the lead assistant coach position,”
Mr. Tsai suddenly shifted the topic, smiling at Chen Yilun,
“Kenny gave me a name.”
“He wants Chris Finch from your team.”
“—!”
Chen Yilun couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath.
Kenny Atkinson was already a top-tier coach when it came to developing underdog teams. Chris Finch, meanwhile, specialized in building defensive systems. The idea of two future elite head coaches working together made it hard for Chen Yilun to even imagine what kind of results they could produce.
“I’ll go back and ask Chris what he thinks,”
Chen Yilun said after some thought, leaving himself room to maneuver.
“But I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Being the lead assistant in Brooklyn is something he’d definitely be interested in.”
“I knew you were reliable,”
Mr. Tsai laughed, raising his glass and clinking it with Chen Yilun’s.
“This is my first time stepping into North American sports, so I’m honestly pretty nervous. The people under me talk a big game in meetings, but when it comes to real situations, none of them are dependable. In the end, I can only count on you.”
“Alright, alright,”
Mrs. Michelle said at just the right moment, seeing that the conversation was winding down.
“The dumplings are ready. Eat them while they’re hot.”
“Alright!”
Seeing the steaming dumplings, Chen Yilun’s appetite immediately kicked in.
“I made these myself,” Mrs. Michelle said as she placed them in the center of the round table.
“Not sure if they suit your taste.”
“If you cook too many at once, they stick together. Seven first, then another seven. Eat them while they’re hot!”
“Oh!”
Chen Yilun eagerly picked up a dumpling, dipped it in vinegar, and popped it into his mouth.
“Delicious!”
“Yilun, you’ve helped me so much,”
Mr. Tsai said after eating a dumpling himself.
“I really have to repay you.”
“Hey—don’t talk about that!”
Chen Yilun waved his hands repeatedly.
“It was nothing. Just a small favor.”
“We really shouldn’t keep talking about this,”
Mr. Tsai said.
“The more we talk, the more it feels like something bad might happen.”
“I was thinking the same thing,”
Chen Yilun replied.
The more they talked, the more both of them felt something was off.
“Chen,”
Mr. Tsai said later, after they’d eaten their fill and moved to the living room to chat,
“how did you manage to dodge all those people back home?”
“You have no idea,”
he continued.
“The moment buying the Nets started looking possible, people back home were pulling strings, forming connections, pledging loyalty—it was driving me crazy.”
“Tell me about it,”
Chen Yilun said with a smile, a cigar between his lips.
“I went through the same thing. Everyone wanted to use my connections. But our situations are a bit different. I never had many ties back home to begin with, so cutting things off was easier for me.”
He paused, then added calmly,
“The simplest solution is this: too many people back home are frogs at the bottom of a well. They can’t see the gap between us and the global basketball world. Once you wake them up, those flies disappear on their own.”
Hearing this, Mr. Tsai nodded again and again.
“I get it now.”
Comments (0)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.