After Christmas, Chen Yilun finally took some proper time off. Even a workhorse needs a couple of days to breathe. And since nothing urgent was going on with the team, he simply gave himself a vacation and flew back home for a visit.
But the moment he returned, he was instantly reminded of how complicated social interactions could be back in his home country.
On his second day home, still buried under the blankets sleeping in, his phone exploded with calls.
No surprise at all—they were all from CBA head coaches and youth development coaches. One after another, all "paying their respects."
"Boss Chen, we've got a few really promising kids. Whenever you have time, I can bring them straight to you."
"It's not that I don't want to see them, man."
Still in pajamas, yawning, Chen Yilun dragged himself out of bed.
"I'm only staying a few days. In a couple of days, I have to head to Beijing to meet with some people. I really can't squeeze this in."
"It won't take long!"
That coach was the type who climbed every rung he could.
"How about this—I'll bring them to Beijing directly. Just give us an hour, whenever you're free. Do it for the kids."
"We'll talk later. My schedule's not even set yet. I don't want you making the trip for nothing."
He chuckled and hung up. But as soon as he set the phone down, he met a pair of curious eyes.
Old Man Chen sat at the dining table wearing reading glasses, looking over the newspaper.
"Well, well~ Our big-shot Chen sure is busy these days."
He curled his mouth in a teasing smirk.
"You've really made it, kid. Your old man never got this kind of treatment his whole life."
Back in the days of rapid reform, Old Man Chen had been a trend-chaser—giving up his secure government job to start a factory and go into business. After decades of ups and downs, he'd built a decent fortune.
Looking at his slightly disheveled son now, he couldn't help but feel emotional.
"When I sent you to North America, I didn't expect you to accomplish anything. I just wanted you to see the world. Who knew ten years would pass like this? And now you've out-earned me."
It wasn't just salaried income for Chen Yilun. Using his foresight, he had invested much of his earnings into various businesses. Now his dividends alone reached seven figures annually.
But what truly made Old Man Chen envious was his son's connections.
Basketball might not be a major power back home, but a small circle is still a complete ecosystem.
And in the past two years, Old Man Chen had benefited significantly from his son's network.
"I don't like dealing with this stuff. It's annoying."
Chen Yilun scratched his hair, which looked like a messy bird's nest. He grabbed a steamed bun from the table and took a bite.
"You think these people are easy to deal with? Every single one treats me like a walking cash dispenser, hoping to carve a piece off me."
If the basketball world had merely been curious about him before, after last year's draft, Chen Yilun became a golden badge of credibility.
Ding Yanyuhang—whom he had personally mentored—was drafted by the Warriors without any behind-the-scenes maneuvering, even above the more hyped "Big Monster."
And under Kerr's system last season, Ding still earned about ten minutes per game, averaging around five points.
With that kind of track record, countless teams were practically groveling, begging him to take a look at their players.
Just as he was debating whether to turn off his phone, another call came in.
"Hello? Who's this?"
"Mr. Chen, up and energetic so early!"
A voice with an heavy accent rang through the speaker.
"I'm not calling to ask for favors. My name is Joseph Tsai. I wonder if you know who I am."
Joseph?
A giant question mark popped into his head. Who?
Just as he was trying to recall, a familiar face suddenly appeared in his mind.
Thud!
Old Man Chen flinched at the sound. His son had jumped up from his chair, looking suddenly animated.
"Mr. Tsai?!"
"Hahaha, no, no. In basketball, you're the boss."
The caller was none other than Alibaba's second-in-command, future owner of the Brooklyn Nets: Joseph Tsai.
"How did you find the time to call me?"
Chen Yilun asked, calming himself.
"Yilun—if I can call you that?"
After a bit of casual small talk, Mr. Tsai got to the point.
"I don't show up without a reason. I'd wanted to reach out before, but since we hadn't met, I didn't want to seem abrupt. Now that you're back, I figured it was the perfect chance. I have some technical questions I'd like to consult you on."
Consult me?
Thinking for a moment, the purpose was clear.
It was already early 2018. In just one more year, Mr. Tsai would officially take over in Brooklyn. His team was definitely beginning deeper discussions with the Nets.
Team acquisitions were far more complicated than player trades—no surprise he wanted expert input.
"If you need me, of course I'm available."
"That's great to hear!"
Mr. Tsai laughed warmly. "Are you free tomorrow? I'd love to drop by."
Tomorrow?
Chen Yilun glanced at his father. Do I have anything tomorrow?
Seeing his father give a nod, he replied, "Of course. I'm looking forward to meeting you."
After a few more pleasantries, they ended the call.
"Who was that? All that fuss for what?"
Old Man Chen asked curiously.
"You're a big boss now," he continued. "As we say back home, you've got to carry yourself with some style. Don't get all shocked over nothing."
"You're right, you're right. No need to overreact. It's just the second-in-command at Alibaba."
"Exactly, just the second-in-command at Ali—wait… the second-in-command of where?"
Halfway through the sentence, Old Man Chen froze.
"Alibaba—the company behind that app you pay money to every day," Chen Yilun said, trying not to laugh.
"Huh?!"
Old Man Chen's mouth dropped open wide enough to swallow a whole egg.
"That man wants your advice? Have you broken the natural order or something?!
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser