When Director Zhu heard Wang Yi's words, he smiled warmly. "Wang Yi, you're still young. A lot of things here can't be explained in just a few words."
"Listen to me. Pang Bo has shown tremendous talent so far, but he's still young."
"With talent like his, he'll have plenty of chances to play for the National Team in the future. Joining the NBA is only a matter of time, too. So whether he ends up pursuing fame, fortune, or something else, almost all of it will be within easy reach."
"But some players aren't as talented as he is. After they retire, they might only be able to set up a street stall. You've heard plenty of news over the years about Olympic Champions selling their medals, haven't you?"
"So I think the most important thing is to save these opportunities for players whose families are struggling. After all, they've worked hard and devoted ten or twenty years to the country. We ought to look after them. If I talked to Pang Bo about it, I'm sure he'd agree with me."
Wang Yi said nothing. He lowered his head and ate as he thought it over.
He'd started playing in the CBA as a freshman in college, and after just a few months there, he'd gone to the NBA. So he still wasn't very familiar with some of the rhetoric and circumstances in China.
If he were talking to Western reporters or an NBA General Manager, he'd quickly be able to tell whether the guy was being sincere or trying to pull one over on him.
But this time, he had to think it through carefully.
Director Zhu said nothing either and lowered his head to eat.
He seemed so natural and composed as he ate. All in all,