Chen Yilun hummed a tune as he strode into a private dining restaurant, wearing a knee-length black coat.
The moment he stepped inside, the gentle warmth and the faint piano notes drifting through the air made it clear this was a high-end place.
"Do you have a reservation, sir?"
A waiter in a suit approached with a polite smile.
Chen Yilun glanced at the waiter's uniform, then lowered his eyes to the suit he himself was wearing beneath his coat.
Great. Forget calling me Yilun—I've basically turned into Sherlock now.
"Reservation under Mr. Tsai."
He said calmly.
As soon as he spoke, the smile on the waiter's face brightened even further.
"Mr. Chen, correct? Welcome. Please follow me."
The two walked into a private room, where Mr. Tsai and his wife, were already standing.
"Mr. Tsai! My apologies, sorry for being late."
As soon as he entered, Chen Yilun extended his hand in apology.
"No worries, we just got here ourselves."
Today, Mr. Tsai was wearing a beige coat. One glance and he radiated the effortless elegance of old money—something no nouveau riche could ever achieve, no matter how expensive the outfit.
After a round of small talk, the three took their seats.
Mr. Tsai had a habit: having come from a legal background, he had complete confidence in his own professional ability, so he rarely brought assistants or lawyers with him.
"Wasn't sure what you liked, so I chose this place. The dishes here are done with a modern twist, but the flavors are genuinely good."
Chen Yilun glanced at the waiter still standing by the door, ready to serve. After thinking for a moment, he decided not to take off his coat.
"Let's eat first!"
...
...
It's true—nothing builds rapport like sharing a meal. After only a few dishes, Chen Yilun and Mr. Tsai were already chatting like old friends.
"Chen!"
Mr. Tsai raised his wine cup and clinked it with Yilun's.
"There's something I wanted to get your advice on."
"Go ahead! I'll tell you everything I know."
Yilun downed his drink in one gulp before speaking.
"It's like this."
Mr. Tsai picked up a napkin, wiped his mouth, and continued.
"You're one of the few people who've truly established themselves in NBA management. Your track record is part of league history, so you're the only one I can turn to for this."
"I stepped back from things over there, but I'm still a die-hard basketball fan. So I'm planning to move into the competitive sports market. I've been negotiating for a while now—planning to acquire an NBA team."
"Oh~~"
Chen Yilun's instinct for well-timed reactions kicked in.
"That's great news! Having you enter is absolutely a good thing. Can I ask which team?"
"The Brooklyn Nets."
Mr. Tsai's eyes—behind his gold-rimmed glasses—settled on Yilun as he spoke.
"Man, you're part of league management. You must've heard some things. Do you think this has potential?"
"Of course it does!"
Chen Yilun conveniently ignored the first half of Mr. Tsai's remark.
"Brooklyn has a huge market, and that Russian guy—everyone in the league can't stand him. A total big-shot troublemaker. If you take over, everyone will be thrilled."
The "big-shot troublemaker" he referred to was the current Nets owner, Russian oligarch Mikhail Prokhorov.
Because of his interference, the Nets had lost both their present and future. Whether it was former commissioner Stern or current commissioner Adam Silver, both had plenty of criticism for him.
After all, the franchise had a prime location and strong earning potential—but he still managed to turn it into a mess.
"Yilun, that's not what I meant."
Mr. Tsai tapped his fingers lightly on the table, smiling.
"I'm a businessman. What I want is return on investment. If I buy the Nets, how much do you think I could earn?"
Hearing the question, Yilun thought for a moment before speaking.
"A lot, definitely. The Nets' valuation is at rock bottom right now. The NBA is an absolute monopoly in the basketball industry. In all my years in the league, I've never seen an owner lose money."
"First, the location advantage. Brooklyn is incredible. It's part of New York—even if people call it a working-class area. But honestly, it's still New York. My Sacramento doesn't even compare. Since Adam Silver took office, every team has made more money year after year. If you buy a team and just hold onto it, it'll appreciate even if you do nothing."
"And right now the team is basically a blank slate. Once you take over, you'll have every reason to clean house. It's like a sheet of white paper—you can draw whatever you want..."
"So if I buy the team..."
Before Yilun could finish, Mr. Tsai suddenly cut in.
"Would you want to come work for me?"
The question hit Chen Yilun so hard he nearly choked on his own breath.
"Me? I don't think that'd be appropriate."
He let out an awkward laugh.
"I'm doing well in Sacramento, and I'm attached to the team. Leaving just like that wouldn't feel right."
But clearly, Mr. Tsai wasn't planning to let it go.
"If I remember correctly..."
He narrowed his eyes, thinking before speaking slowly.
"That Indian owner gave you 4% management shares, right?"
"If you come to me, I can give you 6%."
"Hiss—!"
Yilun drew in a sharp breath, suddenly feeling almost sober.
That 6% from Mr. Tsai was in no way comparable to Ranadivé's 4%.
The Nets' earning power crushed the Kings'.
Take a simple example: back in June 2024, Mr. Tsai sold 15% of his Nets shares to the Koch family. They paid a total of $688 million for that 15%.
It was practically an offer no one could refuse.
"I..."
Yilun swallowed, struggling to speak.
"This really isn't about money. You know that. I built this Kings team brick by brick, and now it's finally about to blossom. I honestly don't want to leave."
"Hahaha!"
Mr. Tsai laughed heartily, then patted Yilun's shoulder.
"It's fine, no rush. I haven't even bought the team yet. If you ever feel interested, come find me. I'll always keep a spot open for you."
The rest of the dinner tasted like wax to Chen Yilun—his mind completely occupied by Mr. Tsai's offer of 6%.
If his plans didn't still rely on the Kings, he really would be tempted to jump straight to Brooklyn and join our dear Old Tsai.