"Don't worry. I didn't sell when they were playing poorly before, and there's no way I'm selling now that they're playing well."
Chen Yilun waved his hand with a smile, easing Malone's concerns.
"That's good."
Malone nodded in satisfaction and left the office.
...
Once Malone was gone, Chen Yilun waited a moment, then picked up the phone on his desk.
"Mike, come to my office."
Not even a minute later, the Kings' assistant general manager, Mike Blackstone, stepped in.
"Boss, what do you need?"
The Kings' front office had a very clear division of labor. The newly appointed GM Divac and assistant GM Peja were long-time team veterans—excellent at maintaining stability, but not exactly aggressive or innovative.
Fortunately, after working with Chen Yilun for years, they knew their own limitations and willingly handed all external negotiations to the more capable Blackstone.
"We're putting out the word that we're preparing to trade Thaddeus Young."
Blackstone's expression tightened.
"What's the target? Do you want immediate help or future assets?"
"My thought is to bring in a veteran who can mentor the kids, and also pick up some future assets. Money's tight—we don't have many first-round picks left."
The moment Chen Yilun said this, Blackstone's eye twitched uncontrollably.
We're short on first-round picks? How can you even say that with a straight face!?
We have four first-rounders this year alone, and our future stash is one of the biggest in the league. And you're complaining to me?
But Chen Yilun paid zero attention to Blackstone's "is this guy serious?" look, continuing calmly:
"It really isn't enough. If we can't sell at least one of those four first-rounders for a good return, we won't have much left in the next few years."
This strategy wasn't something Chen Yilun learned from Buford. He stole it from his senior, Presti.
Presti—widely regarded as the league's best trader—was a master of flipping assets. Whether it was repeatedly moving Westbrook for five firsts and three seconds as he declined,
or pulling off the legendary chain deal centered around Schroder that eventually became four first-rounders and two second-rounders...
The Thunder's so-called "academy of development" was built entirely by Presti's hand.
"Isn't it too early to trade him?"
Because of his job, Blackstone's perspective was entirely different from Malone's.
"Thaddeus Young is still a positive asset. If we trade now, it'll only be a teardown move. Plus, our salary cap can't absorb a bigger contract."
Trades are never simple swaps. They involve future assets, salary matching, cap flexibility—things that look like a foreign language to anyone outside the business.
Take the Schroder deal, for example.
If you only look at the final return, there's no way Schroder alone nets four firsts and two seconds.
First, Presti traded Schroder to the Lakers for Danny Green and the 28th pick.
Then he flipped Green to Philadelphia, using OKC's cap room to absorb Horford's huge contract.
As compensation, the 76ers handed over a first and a second.
Next, Presti moved Horford to Boston, helping them take on Kemba Walker's even larger contract.
That earned another first and second.
Boston's first later became the 16th pick in 2021.
OKC drafted Şengün, then traded him to the Rockets for two more firsts.
That's how the so-called "Schroder for 4 firsts + 2 seconds" miracle was made.
More accurately: Presti leveraged Schroder and a mountain of cap space to pull it off.
Chen Yilun didn't have that kind of space now—but there was one thing he could do:
Delay fulfillment.
If there's no opportunity this year, convert idle assets into future ones.
Prepare for what comes next.
That was exactly his plan.
Even though the Kings were thriving, nothing stopped him from laying the groundwork for the future.
And just as he expected, the moment word spread that the Kings were shopping Thaddeus Young, teams swarmed with interest.
Especially those Western contenders watching the Kings like predators.
Young had been a key rotation piece in last season's championship run.
If another team managed to pry him away, it wouldn't just strengthen their roster—it would weaken the Kings at the same time. A double swing in one move.
The Thunder and Rockets were the most aggressive.
For the Thunder, their early-season tests confirmed what they feared: Anthony and Westbrook simply didn't fit.
Both needed the ball to be effective, and while those two fought over touches, Blake Griffin became the odd man out.
He had left the Clippers precisely because he was tired of Chris Paul dominating the offense—hoping to be a ball-handler himself.
Yet after leaving L.A., he ended up under two big personalities again.
What kind of mess was this!?
As for the Rockets, they just needed reinforcements.
Trading for Paul had emptied half their assets, so they desperately needed a low-usage, reliable wing.
But at this stage, Chen Yilun didn't even bother responding to those offers.
"Am I stupid? Why would I sell a good player to you so you can beat me with him?"
...
Chen Yilun had just stepped off the plane when a sudden blast of cold wind made him pull his trench coat tighter.
"This cold snap came out of nowhere…"
He rubbed his itchy nose and grumbled.
"There's a cold front moving through. It should warm up a bit after this."
Prince spoke quietly behind him.
"Boss, someone's coming."
Chen Yilun looked up. A dark-skinned middle-aged man was approaching with a smile.
"Welcome, Director Chen Yilun!"
Recognizing him, Chen Yilun extended his right hand with a smile.
"Let's hope we both get what we came for, Mr. Koby Altman."