As December drew to a close, Christmas arrived right on schedule.
"How many times do I have to tell you? The curtains should be white, not beige."
Inside the spacious apartment, Chen Yilun was pacing back and forth, phone pressed to his ear as he spoke.
At the unanimous request of the team management, he had moved out of his old small apartment and bought a luxury penthouse in downtown Sacramento. For the past few days, he'd been so busy overseeing renovations that he barely had a moment to breathe.
"Boss, why not just hire someone to handle all this for you?"
Divac tiptoed in, holding two folders in his hands.
"Boss, this place is a disaster. Who leaves stuff lying all over the floor like this? I almost tripped on my way in. You're never at the facility anymore—it's nearly impossible to get you to sign anything."
"What now?"
Setting down his phone, Chen Yilun took the documents and began reading.
"The top one's the budget report from finance for next year. It's already going to be 2017, and once we move into the new arena, everything has to be redone."
Divac looked around the apartment with a smirk.
"Not bad, boss. This place finally looks like something a league executive would live in."
"All for show. Just for appearances."
After signing the first document, Chen Yilun picked up the second one. His expression quickly darkened as he read.
"They really said that?"
He waved the papers toward Divac.
"Yeah."
Divac nodded awkwardly. "Our offer to CJ was flat-out rejected by his agent. They're insisting on waiting until the season's over to negotiate a five-year max deal."
"This is going to be tricky."
Chen Yilun ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.
The team already had one and a half max contracts. Jokić had made it clear—if the money was right, he'd stay in Sacramento until retirement. That's the advantage of being a European player: wherever they go, they're already far from home, so they might as well settle down in one place and keep earning without having to move again.
But that also meant there was no room for emotional appeals or "loyalty to the community" talk.
So, a post-season contract north of $20 million for Jokić was inevitable.
And now, the one player with potential flexibility—CJ—had become another roadblock.
If they matched Jokić's deal, CJ's contract would likely have to go.
"Are we really going to have to break up the team?"
Chen Yilun muttered under his breath.
His "Galactic Warship" had barely set sail, and already it was hitting rough waters.
"Come on, boss!"
Divac groaned dramatically. "We've built such a great team—splitting it up after one season would be such a waste!"
"You think I want to?"
Chen Yilun shot him a glare. "Quit whining! You think yelling is going to make money appear?"
"Tell me this—was this CJ's agent's idea, or did the two of them agree on it together?"
"Probably both."
"'Probably'?!"
Chen Yilun felt his irritation spike. His assistant had come running over without even getting the facts straight.
"Go find Blackstone and figure this out before you come back to me. And another thing—"
He called out as Divac turned to leave.
"Once you've got the situation clear, just report to me. The Christmas Day game is coming up, and I don't want any distractions right now."
"Got it!"
Tasked with his mission, Divac turned and jogged out of the apartment.
"Not a single one of them makes my life easy," Chen Yilun muttered, rubbing his temples.
Of course, he wanted to keep everyone—especially CJ, his earliest protégé. The guy had worked selflessly for years, sacrificing his touches and minutes, falling from second option to fourth or even fifth, yet he never once complained.
Under those circumstances, wasn't it perfectly reasonable for him to want a bigger paycheck?
But that's exactly what made it awkward.
If Chen Yilun gave CJ the big contract now, there'd be no room left to re-sign Booker next year. But if he didn't, CJ might walk as soon as the season ended.
Just as he was lost in thought, a sharp voice rang out.
"Sir! Sir!"
Tang Zhou stumbled through the doorway, tripping over the TV stand and landing face-first on the floor.
"What's wrong with you? Running in like that—what kind of behavior is this?"
Chen Yilun glanced at the TV with visible distress. It was brand new—he hoped the screen wasn't cracked.
But Tang Zhou didn't even notice.
"Sir, you're trading CJ? I don't agree!"
"...What?"
Chen Yilun blinked in disbelief. "When did I ever say I was trading CJ? Wait—have you gotten too bold lately? What do you mean you 'don't agree'? Since when do I need your approval to make decisions?"
"No, no, no! That's not what I meant!"
Realizing his slip-up, Tang Zhou frantically waved his hands.
"I just panicked and said the wrong thing, sir. But the rumors are all over the place—they're saying you're planning to trade CJ before the All-Star break because you refused to give him a long-term deal worth $20 million per year."
"Who's spreading this nonsense... Oh?"
Chen Yilun was about to explode in anger when something suddenly clicked.
The timing of the rumor was far too coincidental—it came out right after CJ rejected the extension offer, and the details were suspiciously specific.
It was hard not to think that CJ's camp might be leaking information to put pressure on him.
"As long as we're not trading him, that's good!"
Tang Zhou sighed in relief.
"But sir, I know I might sound naive, but you really need to think carefully about CJ's situation. He's been playing great, and he's publicly said more than once that he wants to retire in Sacramento. If we turn around and trade him now, it'll affect the team's reputation going forward."
His words were crude but not without reason.
CJ was a standout product of the Kings' development system. If handled poorly, the situation could completely undo the positive image Chen Yilun had worked so hard to build for the franchise these past two years.
And he'd be lumped together with executives like Pat Riley or Danny Ainge—known for their cold-blooded decisions.
Sure, Chen Yilun didn't have the best reputation among the league's front offices, but among the players, he was still well-liked.
As that thought sank in, he slowly walked to the floor-to-ceiling window.
Looking out over the bustling streets of Sacramento, his brow furrowed tightly.
"This is trouble."
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser