"So—any thoughts about taking this job in Philadelphia?"
Though Chen Yilun's tone sounded casual, Blackstone instantly snapped to full attention.
He knew this was a test. Chen had already brought him into the team, yes—but he had never been part of the inner circle.
Once he officially took over in Philadelphia, that would finally change.
"My thoughts are this."
After a brief pause to collect himself, Blackstone spoke.
"Philly's roster may look strong and full of potential right now, but underneath it all, it's a mess. The Colangelos basically burned through everything Sam Hinkie built for the 76ers."
"Once I take office, my first task is to stabilize the team. Second, start rebuilding long-term assets."
Hearing Blackstone lay out his plan so clearly, Chen Yilun nodded with satisfaction.
He really had chosen the right man—steady, reliable.
"Colangelo's entire approach was flat-out wrong," Chen said, refilling his champagne.
"Blindly chasing immediate improvement, throwing away every future asset, betting everything on a bunch of rookies—it was never going to work."
He glanced at Blackstone and saw him fully focused, so he continued.
"My suggestion? Keep tanking this year. No point wasting energy chasing an illusion. You still control next year's first-round pick. Once this tank job is over, you'll have much more room to operate."
"That's exactly what I was thinking!"
Blackstone nodded hard.
"But will the organization even cooperate with me?"
"Oh, absolutely."
Chen Yilun smiled confidently. "If I couldn't secure something this simple, I wouldn't have sent you there. Brett Brown—the team's President of Operations—is an old Spurs guy. I've already talked to him. He won't interfere with your decisions. And you know head coach Brown well. Just do what you need to do."
"That's great!"
With Chen's guarantee, the last bit of hesitation finally vanished. Blackstone stood, raising his glass.
"A toast to you, Mr. Chen. Following you has been the best decision I've ever made."
Chen rose halfway and clinked glasses with him.
"From here on, the work is yours. Just remember the plan."
"Don't worry! At this rate, give it a few years and it won't be us watching the league's reactions—it'll be the league watching ours."
Ambition surged through Blackstone's chest; he wished he could fly to Philadelphia right that second.
"Boss," he said after they ate for a while, "you read people better than I do. So about the players on the roster—what do you think?"
"What do I think…"
Chen set down his knife and fork, the corner of his mouth twitching.
What could he think? There were so many problems he didn't know where to start.
Fultz was about to run into mental-health issues and lose all ability to shoot.
Simmons—an even stranger case—would eventually abandon shooting entirely, becoming a big point guard stuck between positions.
Embiid would still bully the interior for the next couple of years, but once the injury concerns showed up, he'd never go back inside again.
Seeing Chen Yilun's shifting expression, Blackstone felt a sudden pinch of anxiety.
"Is it really that bad?"
"Not too bad."
Chen smacked his lips thoughtfully before speaking.
"Fultz—I'm not optimistic. Any player Danny Ainge willingly gave up probably has underlying issues. Keep an eye on him. But it is what it is—you already drafted him. See if you can move him later."
Blackstone automatically pulled out his small notebook to jot everything down.
"As for Simmons and Embiid… I honestly can't evaluate the two of them. They're strange—but strangely perfect fits for each other. I really can't judge them."
Future fans would roast the pair endlessly, but one fact remained: Simmons was the best on-court partner Joel Embiid ever had. One refused to shoot threes and constantly attacked inside; the other refused to post up and kept drifting outside.
Match made in heaven, depending on how you looked at it.
"Anyway, don't ask me about things only the future can answer. You'll have to study this yourself."
Seeing Blackstone nodding like a bobblehead, Chen felt deeply satisfied.
The first major move was complete.
With Blackstone and his people in place, the Philadelphia 76ers were firmly under his control.
And unlike the old Spurs-coaching alliance, this time every position—from head coach on up—belonged to his network.
...
While Chen Yilun and Blackstone were dining, reactions were erupting across the league.
"He actually pulled it off."
Inside the Utah Jazz office, Coach Quin Snyder stared at the news on his monitor, clicking his tongue.
"Philly's already in Chen Yilun's hands. Looks like I'm next."
He slowly stood, gazing out into the night.
"How far are you going to go, my little Rookie? I'm genuinely curious."
...
Meanwhile, in San Antonio.
Buford was chain-smoking one cigarette after another.
Among everyone in the league, only Buford—watching from the outside—could sense that Chen Yilun was executing some grand scheme.
"What exactly are you planning?"
He took a long drag, then crushed the cigarette in the ashtray.
"Blackstone wasn't just poached. I know what you're capable of. There's no way you'd sit still with your own backyard on fire. What are you really after?"
Muttering to himself, Buford lit yet another cigarette.
"Did you release Blackstone on purpose? Are you trying to remote-control Philadelphia???"
The thought sent a shiver through him.
Terrifying.
Only the legendary Red Auerbach had ever pulled off something like this—and that was back when the league's rules were full of loopholes.
Today's NBA was organized, structured, airtight. Something like this shouldn't even be possible.
Should he call and warn someone?
He stared at the contact on his phone, hesitated again and again…
and finally didn't press the number.
"Kids have their own paths," he muttered, exhaling heavily.
"Go ahead—stir things up. Maybe you really can shake this stagnant league awake."
...
Happy New Year to all my readers!
Wishing you good health, peace of mind, and a year filled with positive energy and strength.