"Still... never mind, it doesn't matter. You have your own ideas, and that's a good thing. I won't stop you."
As Westbrook got older, he had clearly become much more composed and levelheaded than he'd been when he was young.
"Since you've made up your mind, all I can do now is wish you well."
Turtle Turtle raised his glass and held it out. Chen understood and gently clinked his glass against it.
"Whether we can arrange a sign-and-trade doesn't really matter. Even if you join a new team directly as a free agent, no one will blame you. You've already given this city so much. And for me, at least... the fact that you came here in person to talk to me and tell me about this, instead of sending some perfunctory text after the trade was done—that's enough."
With a self-deprecating smile, Westbrook took a large gulp of the expensive liquor.
Chen Xi's decision to leave inevitably touched on Turtle Turtle's old wounds. Almost as if triggered, he instinctively thought of Durant's choice to leave without so much as a proper goodbye.
Though he'd since made his name and achieved the dream he hadn't been able to fulfill back then, proving himself to the world,
that had only made him feel all the more certain that Durant had been wrong, and all the less accepting of Durant's choice.
But, just as he'd said, Chen and KD weren't the same.
The year before, the Warriors had just embarrassingly blown a series against his team. Then, driven by his obsession with winning an NBA Championship, Durant had joined them without hesitation.
First, he'd left the team with no assets at all. Worse, it had indirectly derailed the team's efforts to strengthen its roster. Presti had done everything he could to