Chapter 380: Four Stars
In downtown Charlotte, Chen Yilun sat in a high-end restaurant, gazing down at the constant flow of people on the street below. He lifted his wine glass leisurely and took a sip.
“Teacher, I’ve really got to say this—you're about to be a team president, and you’re still carrying that miserly air?”
Across from him, Buford was dressed in his forever-unchanged gray suit, cutting into his steak with gusto.
“You don’t know a thing,”
Buford swallowed a mouthful of food and smacked his lips in satisfaction.
“You know how poor my hometown is. I’m not like you. Even if I become president, it’s just a bump in salary. Not like you—your dividends alone every year are enough to make you completely financially independent.”
That was really just Buford crying poor.
Reaching the position of team president meant that even if his salary didn’t compare to superstar players, salary plus bonuses were more than enough to place him firmly among the upper class in North America.
“Speaking of which…”
Buford picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth.
“With the way you’re operating now, aren’t you worried they’ll go after the one sticking their head out?”
Buford’s concern wasn’t unfounded.
This year’s Kings were truly towering above the rest.
And that momentum hit its peak after Chen Yilun used his own channels to push both Jokić and Booker into the All-Star Game.
Four All-Stars on one team, plus Cousins lying in a hospital bed. Even though Cousins didn’t make the All-Star roster, everyone knew that if he ever returned to full health, he’d easily be another All-Star-level force.
At that point, the Kings could honestly be called a full-fledged five-star team.
A lineup like that had completely shattered the league’s already fragile balance.
“I didn’t really have a choice,”
Chen Yilun took another sip of wine and continued.
“Since it’s the last show, why not make it as grand as possible?”
Buford’s eyes lit up at those words.
He’d had a hunch for a long time, but hearing Chen Yilun confirm it himself still caught him off guard.
“You’re really willing to walk away from a dynasty like this?”
“What else can I do?”
Chen Yilun leaned back, looking out at Charlotte as the city lights came on.
“There’s no sun that never sets, and no dynasty that lasts forever.”
A trace of undisguised astonishment flashed deep in Buford’s eyes as he listened.
“A few years ago...”
Chen Yilun lit a cigarette and continued,
“I once read an article by a writer. He told a story that stuck with me.”
Seeing that Buford wasn’t showing any impatience, Chen Yilun went on.
“When he was young, he used to herd sheep on the hills near his home. Whenever they were going uphill, the sheep followed obediently and moved quickly.”
“But the moment they started heading downhill, the flock would hesitate and resist. They knew they were descending, heading back toward that cramped pen—and they didn’t want to return.”
After finishing, Chen Yilun looked at Buford, his expression firm.
“In this league, it’s always the same cycle—watch him build his tower, watch him host grand banquets, watch the tower collapse. So while the initiative is still in my hands, I’d rather be the one to do it.”
Buford fell into a long silence.
“Yilun,”
he finally said after quite some time.
“You’re more mature than I ever imagined.”
After a brief pause, he continued.
“To willingly give up a roster that’s already fully formed—one of historic caliber, no less—I can say this with confidence: aside from you, no general manager in the league would dare make that choice.”
Buford wasn’t exaggerating. With the Kings’ current lineup, no general manager alive could resist the temptation.
Even knowing that keeping the roster intact would blow up the salary cap, push the team deep into the second luxury tax apron, and saddle them with massive tax penalties, most GMs would still do everything possible to hold on to their core.
(As an aside, teams like the Warriors after Durant left, and the current Suns, have both fallen into this trap. The Warriors were fortunate enough to trade Russell for Wiggins and claw their way out. As for the Suns now… all one can do is wish them luck.)
“Maybe it’s because I’m still young,”
Chen Yilun smiled and brushed the topic aside lightly.
“I tend to look at things a bit more openly.”
If others couldn’t bear to let go, that was their problem.
Even if Durant and Butler were gone, he’d still have Jokić, Booker, and Alexander—three future MVP-caliber players firmly in hand. There was nothing for him to panic about.
With a future that vast, he’d already enjoyed the sweetest portion of the present.
Chen Yilun truly didn’t mind leaving a few crumbs behind for the rest of the league to fight over.
Hearing that this season was likely the Kings’ final dance under Chen Yilun, Buford’s expression visibly relaxed.
“Knowing when to advance and when to retreat—that’s not a bad thing. Kid, you’re practically ready to stand on your own.”
Watching the confident Chen Yilun, Buford felt a twinge of bitterness.
After all these years grinding away in the league, he lacked nothing—honor, reputation, wealth.
His one lingering regret was that the Spurs had never managed to repeat as champions.
Even though the league officially acknowledged the Spurs dynasty, it still fell just one tier short of the greatest ones.
“I’m getting old,”
Buford sighed deeply.
“Watching you rise step by step these past two years, I’ve started to feel powerless. Our era—the era of us old guys—has already passed.”
“I’m planning to step down from my responsibilities after this season.”
“Honestly, your situation isn’t bad at all. Plenty of money, little hassle, and close to home.”
Buford was preparing to step down from his role as general manager and take on the position of President of Basketball Operations for the Spurs.
In other words, he’d become the team’s true power behind the scenes, handing over day-to-day duties to his protégé, Wright.
“It is pretty good,”
Buford smacked his lips and continued.
“But having nothing to do will take some getting used to. By the way, you’ve met that kid Wright a few times, right?”
“I remember him,”
Chen Yilun nodded.
“When you’re back in San Antonio, let me know. I’ll introduce the two of you properly,”
Buford said with a wink.
“After all, you both come from the same line of mentorship. Even if I step down, don’t let that connection fade.”
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