The entire American media was on the edge of their seats by this 2-2 tie. Boston media wanted to hear Lin Qi continue to judge Pat Riley's brutality, Miami media wanted to see Lin Qi get furious after losing his home advantage, and New York's major sports newspapers, known for their scathing criticism, were eager for the two to start fighting over collars in the locker room tunnel before the game even began.
But on the eve of Game 5, the Boston Celtics ' president's office was unusually quiet.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city's neon lights flickered coldly. Inside the office, only a dim desk lamp shone, casting a thin shadow on the green Celtics -logo carpet. The only sound in the room was the rustling of papers turning.
Lin Qi leaned back in his chair, flipping through a securities underwriting report. A line of English text was written on the cover...
A small online bookstore that was just founded in Seattle and completed its IPO on Nasdaq just days ago.
The official offering price was $18. On its first day of trading, enthusiastic retail investors and speculative funds drove the stock price up to over $20. However, just a few days later, bearish reports from traditional Wall Street investment banks and large institutional sell-offs came crashing down like a storm. Amidst a chorus of doubts, the company's stock price fell below the $18 offering price, with the lowest trade even being maliciously driven down to just over $17.
Wall Street elites openly mocked it on financial programs, saying it was just another pie in the dot-com bubble, lacking any physical moat and continuing to lose money. They predicted that once Barnes & Noble and Borders Bookstore truly entered the online market, this small Seattle workshop would be crushed into dust by traditional giants within months.
Lin Qi looked at the extremely sarcastic and bearish commentary, leaned back in his chair, and suddenly chuckled softly.
Online bookstores? Do these self-proclaimed smart Wall Street analysts really think that bald guy named Jeff Bezos only wants to sell books in the future?
On the other side of the table, quietly lay a core asset credit plan, delivered overnight by the holding company behind Lin Qi. Every figure listed on it represented the wealth he had accumulated in advance during this era.
Hollywood film box office and copyright revenue sharing: $40 million.
Videotape pre-order financing: $80 million.
The joint pledge amount between its data company and streetwear brand company: US$20 million.
This $140 million credit line is not cash that can be squandered at will. Film revenue sharing is still going through complicated overseas settlement processes, videotape orders need to be discounted for asset refinancing, and the daily cash flow of data companies and streetwear brands cannot be easily drained.
In the late 1990s, commercial banks and large securities firms imposed extremely stringent risk control conditions. Especially when dealing with a new internet company like Amazon, which had just gone public, was still losing money on paper, and had a volatile stock price, traditional financial institutions simply could not allow Lin Qi to leverage indefinitely.
But for a time traveler with the global economic trends of the next thirty years in mind, these carefully assembled liquidity cards are enough. He doesn't need to buy the entire Amazon right now; he just wants to catch the wave of the new era.
The long-distance call connected. After a few seconds of silence, a hesitant voice came through the receiver from the private financial broker.
"Lin, are you sure you want to use the holding company's core liquidity to buy a large amount of Amazon stock at this critical juncture? That company's financial reports are terrible right now; it's losing a lot of money every quarter. The consensus on Wall Street right now is that its story is better told than its actual business."
"If its earnings report were good, Wall Street wouldn't be driving it down to $17 right now." Lin Qi held the phone, his tone as calm as if he were discussing tomorrow morning's breakfast. "Only when panic spreads will the real bargaining chips become cheap."
There was a brief pause on the other end of the phone, followed by the sound of a pen tapping on the table, "How much of the credit line do you want to use in the first phase?"
"The first payment, ten million US dollars."
After the words were spoken, a long silence followed in the trading office across the ocean. The broker swallowed hard and lowered his voice to remind him, "Lin, you're using Hollywood movie revenue sharing, videotape order financing, and the equity pledged by your most profitable data company and streetwear brand to gamble on an online retailer that could be crushed by traditional brick-and-mortar bookstores at any moment."
"So tell your traders to be discreet. Don't chase the highs, and don't attract the attention of retail investors and short-selling institutions. Start building your first position in batches around $17. If those Wall Street guys continue to dump tomorrow, wait until it drops to around $15, then we'll use the remaining $100 million reserve."
The agent took a deep breath, knowing he could no longer persuade the young and tough Celtics president, and could only quickly jot down notes in his memo.
Lin Qi turned his head and looked out the floor-to-ceiling window. The FleetCenter Arena, across the street, was still brightly lit in the Late Night. Tomorrow night, the decisive fifth game would take place there.
Lin Qi hung up the phone, looked at the circle on the whiteboard, and said softly, "I never bought from an online bookstore. I bought from the future Celtics."
According to Lin Qi's recollection, if he could hold onto this position, it would turn into a huge fortune that would terrify Wall Street within a year or two. But he also knew that money was just an entry ticket.
To acquire a century-old powerhouse like the Boston Celtics, especially as an Asian immigrant, money alone is far from enough. He needs an outstanding record, the absolute approval of Boston's discerning fans, the league office's belief that he is a leader capable of bringing long-term benefits, and, most importantly, the right historical moment when the Gaston family is truly willing to put the team on the negotiating table.
This is not a simple stock transaction, but a long-term hunt. He needs time, and he needs to start now, placing each piece in its proper place in advance.
The following evening, Game 5 of the Eastern Conference Semifinals, a pivotal match, took place at the Miami Arena.
Without any probing, the game turned into a hard-fought battle of attrition from the very first second the referee blew the whistle.
The Heat's half-court offense was on full display at home, with the Celtics enduring 46 minutes of high pressure. It wasn't until the final two minutes of the fourth quarter that Sam Cassell, who had been ice-cold all game, managed to hit two of his signature pull-up mid-range jumpers under the tight defense of Hardaway, managing to keep the Boston Celtics within two points.
With 4.2 seconds left in the game, Alonzo Mourning received the ball in the low post, pushed past Garnett, and completed a seemingly inevitable turnaround hook shot. Just as the basketball was about to pass its highest point, Dikembe Mutombo, almost losing his balance in mid-air, forcefully extended his arm and swatted the ball away with his fingertips.
The gasps from the Miami Arena nearly lifted the roof off. Mutombo staggered a couple of steps after landing, then turned around and frantically waved his signature index finger at the broadcast cameras.
91 to 88.
The Celtics snatched Game 5 on the road, taking a 3-2 lead in the series and securing a match point.
Pat Riley, who had led the Heat for only two seasons but had already transformed the team into a formidable force, did not give up.
Three days later, in Game 6, the series returned to Boston. Facing elimination, the Miami Heat displayed a near-self-destructive determination. Their relentless defense and almost grueling movements turned the game into a wrestling match. Tim Hardaway didn't rest for a second in the second half, racking up 28 points and tearing apart the Celtics ' defense with repeated desperate crossovers; Mourning made three consecutive low-post attacks in the fourth quarter, even managing to slam in two baskets over Mutombo's defense.
Garnett suffered severe cramps in both thighs during the latter part of the fourth quarter due to high-intensity running, and was eventually helped off the court to applause from the fans. With 1.1 seconds left in the game, Michael Finley received a precise pass from Chris Mullin on the perimeter and forced a shot over the block to win the game with a three-pointer.
The basketball hit the back of the rim, bounced high, and finally slid out.
The Heat fought back fiercely on the road, winning 84-81, tying the series 3-3. The series was ultimately dragged into a decisive Game 7.
Miami, on the eve of Game 7.
Lin Qi sat in his hotel room, reviewing the last batch of trade confirmations faxed over by the New York trader. Since the night before the fifth film, panic selling had been pouring in from Wall Street, and over $100 million of the $140 million credit line he had leveraged through film revenue sharing and equity pledging had now been converted into Amazon stock chips dumped at the very bottom of the market.
Lin Qi casually flipped the transaction slip over, picked up the tactical board covered with brand-new lines, and walked out the door.
The coaching staff meeting room next door was brightly lit and filled with the strong smell of coffee. Head coach Rick Adelman and several assistant coaches were gathered around the television, their faces grim as they repeatedly rewound the game, analyzing the Heat's defensive blunders that the referees had overlooked in Game 6. Tomorrow was Miami's home game, and the atmosphere in the room was heavy and somewhat oppressive.
Lin Qi walked over and slammed the tactical board in his hand directly onto the center of the long table, making a crisp sound.
Stop watching old videos.
Lin Qi looked at the coaching staff who had all raised their heads, and said decisively, "We'll change our strategy tomorrow night."