After losing to the Mavericks, the Kings' morale took a heavy hit. In the next game, they fell again—this time to the Grit-and-Grind Grizzlies led by Zach Randolph and Marc Gasol—swallowing the bitter taste of a two-game skid. The team that had been hyped to the heavens at the start of the season had been brought crashing back to earth.
With such a young roster, their ability to handle pressure was poor. Collapse felt dangerously close.
Chen Yilun sat in his office, rubbing his temples. He'd seen the team's slump with his own eyes these past two days, but there was little he could do. Integrating the roster was the head coach's job. And while he had a good relationship with Coach Malone, he couldn't overstep into coaching—it would only risk making things worse.
What's more, in just two days, they would host the defending champion Spurs. It would be Chen Yilun's first time facing his old team since leaving San Antonio, and both emotionally and professionally, he wanted to deliver a strong performance.
It felt like being a kid again, wanting to ace a test just to make your elders proud. But with the Kings' current state, there wasn't much to show.
As Chen Yilun drifted in thought, LaVine quietly slipped into his office.
"Chen, we're about to have an intrasquad scrimmage. The coach asked if you wanted to watch."
"Why should I watch your scrimmage?" Chen Yilun blinked at the odd invitation. He was in charge of operations—watching scrimmages wasn't part of his job.
"The team doctor just gave the results—Oden can handle games at a certain intensity. The coach wants him in the scrimmage. Didn't you bring him back? The coach told me to see if you wanted to check him out."
The moment he heard this, Chen Yilun shot up from his chair.
"He can play? Then I've got to see this."
He hadn't gone through all the trouble of bringing Oden back from New York for nothing—it was to help "Big O" reclaim his glory.
They walked side-by-side to the court, where the players were already warming up. Oden stood near the free throw line, meticulously drilling his mid-range shot.
Say what you will—Oden's professionalism was intact. He had the smarts not to charge ahead blindly like some big men. His talent was still among the best in the league. It was just a shame that injuries had derailed the career of such a gifted player.
When he saw Chen Yilun, Oden immediately set the ball aside and walked over.
"Chen, I want to thank you again. Thank you for giving me this chance. I won't let you down."
Looking into Oden's sincere eyes, Chen Yilun felt a pang. For him, it had just been a small favor, but for Oden, it was his last shot.
"Play well. Like I said before—if you don't let me down, I won't let you down either."
Chen Yilun started to pat Oden on the shoulder, but after sizing up the height difference, decided it would look awkward. Instead, he patted Oden's lowered forearm. In that brief contact, he quietly slipped the "Restore Health Card" onto him.
Using the 'Restore Health Card' on Greg Oden will be final. Confirm?
Confirm!
A flash of white light—visible only to Chen Yilun—shot from his body into Oden's.
"Alright, enough talk. Let's start."
Oden stepped onto the court, frowning slightly as he shifted his weight, testing his legs. CJ noticed and asked, "What's wrong? Still feeling off?"
"No, just… a little strange."
He could feel it—his legs were the same length.
Oden's biggest problem had been the Trail Blazers' infamous medical mismanagement that left him with uneven legs, a key factor in his downfall. Yet now, the discrepancy was gone.
He kept it to himself and signaled for the game to continue.
The scrimmage had two purposes: lift the team's sagging morale and get Oden reacquainted with game flow. Seeing the towering figure on the floor, Chen Yilun found a seat by the bench near the door and settled in.
If you can sit, never stand. If you can lie down, never sit. Life was already tough—what's wrong with a little laziness?
CJ brought the ball past half court. Seeing Oden already sealed deep inside, he lobbed it in. Oden caught it, squared up, and began backing down Mozgov.
Since it was just practice, Mozgov's teammates wanted to see what Oden still had in the tank, so they left him one-on-one.
Thud! The deep sound of bodies colliding echoed as Oden's raw power shoved Mozgov back a big step. With the resistance gone, Oden spun toward the wide-open hoop.
"Help! Help!" Mozgov shouted, and Casspi came racing from the weak side. But facing Big O in full force, Casspi felt like a tiny boat in a raging sea—easily pushed aside.
Bang!
Oden soared with Casspi still clinging on and slammed the ball down with brutal force. The rim groaned under the impact.
Mozgov, still reeling, suddenly saw a shadow flash by—Casspi now lay beside him on the floor.
After landing, Oden noticed the strange silence. Nobody inbounded, nobody defended. Everyone just stared at him like he was some kind of monster.
"Ah! Hot! Hot! Hot!"
The sudden scream shattered the moment. Chen Yilun, sitting on the sidelines with a cigarette, had been ready to enjoy Oden's performance—but that dunk had left him stunned.
Healthy Oden… was this strong? The Restore Health Card was supposed to just heal injuries—how could it be this extreme?
In his daze, he'd forgotten about the cigarette in his fingers. At some point, it had slipped and landed on his pants. The scream was from the burn.
He jumped up, brushed off the butt, and stomped it out.
Seeing the hole burned into his pants, he shot Oden a glare.
"What are you standing around for? Keep playing!"
The players snapped out of it, though their glances at Oden now carried a different weight.
"Greg, I'll get you a few more looks. Show what you've got," CJ whispered as he passed. As Chen Yilun's top wingman, he wasn't about to ignore a hand-picked player.
That first dunk had clearly rekindled Oden's confidence. He went to work inside—hooks, bank shots, fadeaways—using whatever worked. By halftime, he had completely broken Mozgov.
"Alright, that's enough for today. We'll end it here."
Mike Malone called it early. He'd planned on two halves, but Oden's dominance was so overwhelming that he feared Mozgov might truly lose all confidence if it went on.
Oden's calm expression was now lit with excitement. Even if it was just a scrimmage, he felt like he was back in his NCAA glory days—touch, rhythm, and confidence all restored.
No wonder there was talk around the league that the Kings had magic—whoever joined them played better.
Just as he was about to find Chen Yilun, he spotted him hurrying upstairs.
"Chen! Where are you going?"
"Changing my pants!" Chen Yilun shouted back. "And grabbing this guy's contract!"
...That night, the news exploded across the league:
Right after Oden's ten-day deal expired, the Kings signed him to a three-year, $12 million deal using the mid-level exception.
The league was stunned. If the earlier non-guaranteed signing was like Chen Yilun scratching a lottery ticket, then this was a ticket that had been scratched by countless others—and finally paid out.
That precious mid-level exception, acquired by trading Thornton, had been spent on Oden.
Chen Yilun had actually hit on it.
Rumors swirled everywhere, but one thing was certain—the spotlight was back on Sacramento.
...In his office, Chen Yilun let out a big yawn, having just sent away a team doctor who looked like he'd seen a ghost. He never imagined the Restore Health Card would be this strong—not only healing every old injury, but even fixing Oden's leg length discrepancy, something thought impossible.
If he hadn't stepped in, he suspected the doctor might have dragged Oden off for dissection.
Looking at the date circled in red on the calendar, Chen Yilun finally smiled.
"Pop, I've got your welcome gift ready."