Chen Yilun's words left Malone completely deflated. Even after the game ended, Malone barely ate, still sullen, before retreating to his room to rest.
"Yilun, what did you say to Malone?"
Chip asked curiously as he ate, watching Malone's figure disappear.
On this team, Chip was the only one who dared to call Chen Yilun so casually. But Chen Yilun didn't mind—back when he was just starting out, Chip had often looked after him.
"Nothing serious. The new coach just hit the wall, that's all."
Chen Yilun craned his neck, choking down a bite of sandwich.
"Before, just making the playoffs was enough. Now we're aiming for a championship. His head just can't make the adjustment right away."
It wasn't only players who hit the rookie wall—new coaches did too. Especially on a fast-rising team like the Kings, rookie coaches often struggled to adapt or break old habits, and eventually hit that wall.
"I see."
Chip seemed intrigued by this idea, sliding his seat closer to Chen Yilun.
"What's it like? I'd only heard of it before, but today I finally got to see it in person."
It wasn't surprising Chip hadn't witnessed it until now. Since joining the league, he'd always worked with seasoned coaches like Popovich. This was his first time alongside a rookie head coach like Malone.
"Don't worry about it. He'll figure it out."
Chen Yilun pounded his chest to get the food down, then gulped a big drink. "Next time we eat together, can we skip this dry stuff? It's killing me."
"Dry?" Chip glanced at the table full of food. "Tastes fine to me!"
"There's no reasoning with you old white guys who don't know food!"
What Chen Yilun didn't say was this: if Malone couldn't adapt, then he didn't deserve to stay with them.
Chen Yilun needed a championship-caliber team. If Malone couldn't keep up, Chen Yilun wouldn't hesitate to kick him out and replace him with someone who could.
...
Back in his room, Malone sat silently by the window as the cold Milwaukee wind whipped against his face.
That conversation with Chen Yilun had been a wake-up call. Up until now, Malone had been satisfied with the team's steady progress. His staff was professional, lightening his workload. His partners were excellent, always reinforcing the roster when needed.
But now, Chen Yilun's words made him realize: time was running out. This year, thanks to Chen Yilun's maneuvering, the roster had stayed under the luxury tax. But next year, there was no avoiding it.
And knowing the owner, prying money out of him was like pulling teeth. Once the tax line was crossed, the only option was to go all-in for the championship.
"We need stronger tactics!"
Malone quickly pieced it together. "Right now our plays are practically transparent. If we get targeted in the playoffs, we'll have no answers. We need reliable go-to options."
The playoffs are where superstars shine. The Kings' failure last season came from not having a dependable go-to scorer.
Cousins could fill the role, but his efficiency was too low. He simply couldn't carry the team in the postseason.
Harden, by contrast, was the perfect go-to option—he practically shredded the Kings' perimeter defense on his own.
"Should I promote Devin?"
The thought left Malone torn.
On paper, CJ starting made sense—he could better organize the offense. But in the last two games, Booker's offensive talent had clearly outshone CJ's.
If Booker were promoted and CJ became a super sixth man, the team might be stronger. But CJ had just made the All-Star team last season—even if everyone knew that selection was inflated, an All-Star was still an All-Star. Mishandling that could damage team chemistry.
Frustrating!
...
While Coach Malone wrestled with his dilemma alone, back in Sacramento's training room…
CJ sat in a padded chair, grinding through reps with a heavy dumbbell.
"That's your tenth set. Take a break!"
Tang Zhou, standing across from him, couldn't help but speak up.
"It's fine. I know my body. Two more sets."
CJ exhaled deeply, setting the dumbbell on the floor. "My lower body's still out, so this is the perfect time to focus on my upper body."
"This isn't some career-ending injury—I can't just lie down and give up!"
A fierce determination flashed in CJ's eyes.
He'd been watching the team's recent games. Without him, their record hadn't dipped—if anything, they were playing even better.
As the saying goes: winning is fine, but it's embarrassing when no one notices you're gone.
That unease kept growing inside CJ.
He knew his status on the team came from last season's breakout performance—and from the strong backing of Chen Yilun and Malone.
But what if the team found someone more talented, more worthy of investment? CJ didn't want to think further.
And with Booker's sudden rise, that unease only grew heavier.
I can't fall now! I've just started to shine. I still have so many dreams to chase. I absolutely cannot fall!
Seeing CJ about to push himself again after barely a minute's rest, Tang Zhou sighed and quickly stepped in.
"CJ! I know what you're feeling, but this isn't the way."
Tang Zhou's expression turned serious.
"What you need most right now is proper rest and recovery, so you can get back to the team as soon as possible. We're all waiting for you! The team doctor already said that if you keep straining yourself now, you'll only prolong your recovery."
CJ paused at those words. After a moment of hesitation, he finally set the dumbbells aside.
As Chen Yilun's right-hand man, CJ respected Tang Zhou—after all, they were both firmly in Chen Yilun's camp.
"Alright, Tang. I admit I've been impatient."
CJ stood slowly with Tang Zhou's support.
"I'll listen to you. I'll rest properly and aim to rejoin the team early next year!"
"That's more like it!" Tang Zhou steadied him. "Trust the team, trust Chen! He'll never let you down."
Far away in Milwaukee, Chen Yilun had no idea that on this very night, CJ and Tang Zhou had, almost by accident, forged a deep bond.
A bond that, in the future, would cause him some trouble—not too big, but not small either.
But that's a story for another time.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser