"Don't give me that nonsense! I've made myself clear—no means no. You still want my first-rounder? Why don't I just throw in Cousins and CJ as a package while I'm at it?"
Chen Yilun was visibly frustrated, raising his voice during the video conference.
Ever since the All-Star Game ended yesterday, Chen Yilun had spoken again with Danny Ainge to align their plans. After all, this deal was mainly about the two of them working together to trap the Suns.
So today's meeting turned into a head-to-head showdown between Ainge and Ryan McDonough, with Chen Yilun providing backup on the side.
But McDonough, a seasoned veteran in league front offices, wasn't someone easy to push around.
After prying a first-round pick out of the Celtics, he turned his sights toward the Kings.
To drag Chen Yilun deeper into the negotiations, McDonough tried everything he could—even putting the Morris brothers on the block.
But Chen Yilun didn't budge. He refused to take on anything beyond the role of facilitator.
To Ainge and McDonough, Chen Yilun was nothing more than a pointless third wheel.
Mozgov, while a solid blue-collar big man with defensive upside, was at best a role player.
The guy Chen Yilun wanted—Crowder—was still just a second-round pick with some potential.
His first two seasons with the Mavericks, the most crucial stretch of a young player's career, had been spent as a marginal, replaceable piece. Only this season with the Celtics had his situation started to improve.
Players like him carried a standard label around the league: a throw-in.
McDonough knew Crowder alone wasn't enough to squeeze value out of the Kings, which was why he kept pushing for Yilun to take on more.
But Yilun was stubborn—he wanted Crowder and nothing else. Nobody could figure out why Crowder mattered so much to him.
The key was that, on paper, acquiring Crowder was a losing deal for Yilun. To balance it, the other two teams had to sweeten the pot.
That meant McDonough would have to give up part of what he'd already gained.
On the other side of the call, Ainge was feeling the strain. He was determined to land Isaiah Thomas, even putting his Clippers first-rounder on the table to get it done.
But the resistance from the other two had exceeded his expectations.
McDonough knew his own limits—he was an experienced GM, after all. But Yilun's negotiating ability had far surpassed his.
This kid's the real deal.
At his desk, Ainge rubbed his face hard, then threw himself back into the heated exchange.
At the highest level, business battles are often fought with the simplest weapons. In the virtual conference room, the three went at each other relentlessly—voices raised, faces red, trading barbs back and forth.
"#+@&%!"
Mike Malone opened the door to Chen Yilun's office and froze. He saw Yilun furiously arguing, his intensity almost tangible. Swallowing hard, Malone backed out quietly and shut the door again.
"That's terrifying."
He wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Does our Manager Chen really curse people out that viciously?"
"Wait—that sounded like Chinese. Isn't he negotiating trades? Do they even understand Chinese on the other side?"
After a moment of thought, Malone guessed Yilun must have slipped into his mother tongue in the heat of the moment.
"Alright, enough!"
Danny Ainge was the first to fold, raising his hands in surrender. At his age, he couldn't keep up with the two younger men in a shouting match.
"Let's regroup and set the main framework first. If we keep this up, the trade window will close before we finalize anything."
"Fine."
Chen Yilun loosened his tie, letting some air into lungs that felt ready to burst.
"We'll send out Crowder, the Kings give up Mozgov, and the Suns part with Isaiah Thomas. Agreed?"
Ainge tapped his pen against the desk impatiently. "For balance, the Suns also need to include their trade exception to me. That's the only way it works. Do we have a framework?"
"I'm fine with it."
"Me too."
"Good." Ainge exhaled deeply. Over an hour of heated exchanges had mostly been about testing boundaries, seeing if more players could be pulled into the deal.
Now that the core framework was set, they could get into the details.
"My bottom line is this: I'll give the Suns this year's first-round pick. That's it. If either of you wants another first-rounder, don't bother asking."
And it was no surprise Ainge spoke with confidence. As one of the most iron-fisted executives in Celtics history, he'd already stripped the Nets of five years' worth of first-rounders.
On top of that, he'd stockpiled a treasure chest of picks through smaller trades.
No team in the league had more draft capital than the Celtics.
In 2016 alone, they held three first-rounders and five seconds—overflowing with future assets.
Which was exactly why Ainge was desperate to make a move this year. If he didn't turn those picks into talent soon, within a couple of years their value would tank.
"Chen, I can throw in another second-round pick in 2016. That's as far as I can go."
"You're really offering me that second-rounder?"
Chen Yilun sneered. That so-called 2016 second-round pick was the last of the batch, most likely at the very end of the round.
A pick like that could usually be bought on draft night with a bit of cash.
"Take it or leave it. That's all I've got."
Ainge spread his hands, shifting the pressure onto McDonough.
The message was clear:
If you want to unload Isaiah Thomas' contract, you'd better pay the price.
McDonough drew a deep breath, flipping through his notebook until he found something.
"The best I can do is a 2017 second-round pick swap."
"What kind of swap is that? Don't be stingy!" Chen Yilun pressed instantly.
"It's just a second-rounder, and not until 2017. I don't want a pick swap—I want the actual pick."
Hearing that, McDonough perked up. Bargaining meant Yilun was engaged. What worried him was the idea of Yilun walking away altogether.
The two haggled back and forth until they finally settled.
"Fine, 2017 second-round pick—done deal, no changes."
"Works for me."
After reaffirming the details, the three logged off.
Closing his laptop, Chen Yilun cleared his throat, already hoarse from shouting.
Whether it was upgrading the roster or stockpiling future assets, he might not have struck gold, but he could still call this deal a solid win.
...
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