Inside the United Center in Chicago.
This summer, the Bulls traded away their former pride, Derrick Rose, to the Knicks, and soon after lost Noah, Gasol, and several other key players. Now, the team was in full rebuild mode, centered around LaVine.
Butler stood in the familiar arena, overcome with emotion.
The once unstoppable Bulls—full of fire and pride—had long faded into history with the fall of their brilliant rose.
Just as Butler drifted into nostalgia, a flash of red shot past him.
LaVine, wearing the Bulls' No. 8 jersey, sprinted forward and threw his arms around CJ, who was warming up.
"You came all the way here and didn't even hit me up, huh?"
The two burst into laughter, playfully shoving each other like old friends.
Back in LaVine's Kings days, his closest bond was undoubtedly with his perimeter partner, CJ. The two had joined the Kings together, forming the team's feared backcourt duo—famously known as the "Sacramento Twin Guns," the supposed answer to the Kings' future on the perimeter.
Everyone knows how that story ended.
To bring in Butler, Chen Yilun had no choice but to split the duo apart.
In the end, the trade turned out to be a win-win. Butler joined the championship contender he'd always wanted, while LaVine secured his footing on the rebuilding Bulls, becoming their interim leader.
Though LaVine had mixed feelings about the trade at first, time helped him understand Chen Yilun's reasoning—that parting ways was the best choice for both sides.
"Don't rush off after the game! We're hitting the club tonight!"
"You've been living in the big city too long, huh? Starting to get a little wild now?"
Chen Yilun's voice came from behind them. Seeing the two fooling around, he couldn't help but smile.
"No offense, Zach, but with your looks and build, don't let the bright lights of the city get to your head."
"Come on, boss, you're always teasing me."
LaVine took the joke in stride, laughing as he bantered back with Chen Yilun.
The game began in this lighthearted mood.
The Bulls' starting lineup: Rajon Rondo, Zach LaVine, Taj Gibson, Nikola Mirotić, and Robin Lopez.
The Kings' starting lineup: CJ McCollum, Devin Booker, Jimmy Butler, Rudy Gay, and Nikola Jokić.
Maybe he picked it up from someone, but since December, Coach Malone had also started using a rotation strategy—giving key players mandatory rest to preserve their stamina.
Today, it was Durant's turn to sit out. Of course, that wasn't publicly stated; the official report cited "hip tightness."
Chen Yilun was completely on board with Malone's approach.
After all, unless something catastrophic happened—like a major injury outbreak—the Kings' playoff spot was already secured. Under those circumstances, protecting the team's core players to stay sharp for the postseason was definitely the right call.
Meanwhile, the Bulls' roster looked completely different from the one in the original timeline.
In that version, the Bulls first signed Dwyane Wade from the Heat, then added Rajon Rondo in free agency. Together with Butler, they formed the infamous "Three No-Shooters."
That lineup collapsed after just one season due to poor roster balance.
But with Chen Yilun's influence, Butler's trade was pushed forward early. The Heat, meanwhile, had managed to land Porziņģis—perhaps a rare moment of conscience from Pat Riley—so the original power struggle never happened. Wade ended up signing a two-year, near-max deal to stay in Miami.
Ironically, the Bulls came out better for it. Their lineup this year was surprisingly well-built.
Once the game tipped off, LaVine shook his defender and drained a clean jumper off Rondo's pass. Butler answered by bulldozing into the paint, drawing a foul on Gibson.
The two sides went back and forth until the rotations checked in—when the Kings' familiar rhythm took over.
"Me guarding Oden?"
Chris Felicio, checking in off the bench, swallowed nervously as he stared at the beast-like Oden.
Noticing his gaze, Oden glanced back and forced what he thought was a friendly smile—but with his rugged features and thick beard, it only looked more intimidating.
As the Brazilian center began doubting his life choices, Oden caught the ball in the low post, backed him down a step, and finished with an easy layup.
"How am I supposed to stop that?!"
Felicio cried out, but no one answered. Everyone else was too busy trying to handle the Kings' relentless, wave-like offense.
Booker brought the ball across half court while Gay settled into the corner.
On the weak side, Thaddeus Young moved up to the 45-degree angle to set an off-ball screen for Gay.
Once the screen was in place, Gay appeared to run toward the 45-degree spot for a simple catch-and-shoot play.
But just as he met Young at the screen, Gay suddenly spun, sticking close to Young's body and cutting straight into the paint.
With two defenders tangled up on Young, no one could recover in time. Gay dashed into the open lane, and Booker delivered a perfect pass for an easy dunk.
It was a textbook screen-and-cut play—simple yet deadly. The key was having a big, mobile wing like Gay or Young to set the screen.
In basketball, movement and screening form the foundation of every play. A solid screen can make or break the entire execution.
That's why players like Ayton or Wiseman, after a few seasons, often fall out of favor—they never truly grasp the nuances of the pick-and-roll.
They just can't compete—completely outmatched.
After the game, Bulls head coach Jim approached Chen Yilun with a friendly smile.
"Never thought when I handed Butler over to you, you'd turn around and build a superteam like this!"
"Hahaha, just lucky, just lucky!"
Chen Yilun laughed it off, steering away from the topic. "So, how's my guy LaVine doing? I told you he'd be worth it."
"Not bad at all—handsome, flashy, and exciting to watch. A real ticket-seller."
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