After quietly putting the data company's affairs in place, Lin Qi turned back to the free-agent market to add a few more players to the roster.
The first name added was David Wesley.
Lin Qi had actually remembered that name for a long time. In the original timeline, the Celtics would have signed him the previous summer... an easygoing, 1.83-meter guard who did not demand touches but was tough enough, and who would eventually carve out a place for himself in Boston.
But this time, Lin Qi had had too much on his plate the year before. Draft night, Sam Cassell, Eddie Jones, Dominique Wilkins, Elliott, P.J. Brown... every roster spot required careful calculation, and every contract needed to leave room for a fallback plan. He had let Wesley pass.
Wesley had later signed with a team crowded with guards and barely received any opportunities all season. His work consisted of unglamorous tasks like bringing the ball across half court, defending, passing it off, and standing in the corner. There had been no breakout, no eye-catching statistics, and the market had not remembered his name again.
So when Wesley returned to free agency in the summer of 1995, interest remained lukewarm.
That was just right. Barros had gone to Philadelphia, and Perry had already been traded away. They needed someone behind Sam Cassell who could steady the second unit... not a sixth man who scored twenty every night, nor an aging guard demanding touches and a promise to start, but someone who could defend, handle the ball, stay out of trouble, and keep the team steady during the few minutes Sam Cassell spent on the bench.
David Wesley was exactly the right fit. Lin Qi signed him to an inexpensive two-year contract. It was neither a major signing nor a minor one, and there was little to fault.
Lin Qi discovered that Sam Mitchell was currently a free agent. In the original timeline, he was the decorated veteran who had joined the Minnesota Timberwolves in the same year as Garnett and played a crucial mentoring role for the young KG. With that in mind, Lin Qi went with the flow and signed him directly to a one-year contract.
Then there was Tracy Murray, twenty-four years old and 2.01 meters tall. In 1995, when everyone worshipped the notion that "whoever controls the paint controls the game" and could hardly wait to wrestle and grind each other down beneath the basket, Murray's style seemed somewhat "off-task" and unconventional to most old-fashioned head coaches.
But as a transmigrator, Lin Qi knew very well that if this twenty-four-year-old were placed in the current of modern basketball thirty years later, he would be the perfect prototype for a stretch four.
His 2.01-meter height came paired with an extremely high release point and a slight fadeaway, making Murray's shot exceptionally difficult to block. Even more terrifying was his release speed, as swift as an eagle striking through the sky. In the 1993-94 season, this kid had shot a league-leading 45.9 percent from three in Portland. He did not need many touches, and his ability to catch and shoot after moving through a play was practically a throat-slitting dose of lethal poison in this era of half-court basketball.
Not only that, Murray also had the natural versatility of a swingman. He was born to punish mismatches.
Of course, having given him a top-tier spear, heaven had mercilessly taken away his shield. He was a defensive sieve anyone could exploit. This was Murray's most fatal flaw, and the reason his market value never rose throughout the nineties.
It was also why, despite his unparalleled shooting, he had bounced between teams early in his career and was always treated as a trade chip. His lateral movement was too slow, and his defensive awareness was disappointingly mediocre. On defense, quick perimeter players often beat him in a single step, while muscular big men could easily overpower him in the post.
Still, what Lin Qi really liked about him, besides his playing style, was his personality.
He was the perfect locker-room glue guy: easygoing, unselfish, able to blend like water into any tactical system, and able to fit right in with Garnett and the other young guys on the practice court.
With Murray's value at a low point, Lin Qi signed him directly to a three-year contract.
After that, Lin Qi did not rush to sign anyone else. He only offered a training camp contract... to an undrafted player named Bruce Bowen.
The kid had only recently come out of college and then spent a stint in France. Hardly any team gave him a serious look. His offensive repertoire was sparse, and even his dribbling was awkward. By conventional scouting standards, a simple "no offensive game" was enough to dismiss him.
But his offense had never been what Lin Qi was looking at.
"Keep him in training camp and take a look," Lin Qi told Ford. "Never mind how little he offers on offense... put him on our best scorer, then draw your conclusion."
Ford was skeptical. He did not know that Lin Qi was planting an inconspicuous seed for a defensive chain designed specifically to lock down opposing go-to scorers in some future season. Give him a training camp contract; keep him if they could, and there was no loss if they could not.
The Bowen move was a spare move, and a setup for the future.
After signing those two, Lin Qi suddenly stopped while reviewing the payroll.
The team still had more than five million dollars of room below the salary cap.
In the summer of 1995, more than five million dollars was enough to sign another respectable mainstay of the rotation.
The scouting director's eyes lit up. "Lin, we still have more than five million left! Want to go fishing on the market for another player?"
But Lin Qi went through the list of unsigned free agents from top to bottom, his brow furrowing more deeply as he read.
The players still floating around the market were either washed-up veterans with big names and inflated price tags, role players whose skills duplicated what the team already had, or players whose signing would choke off minutes that should have gone to the youngsters.
Not one of them was the right man.
"We're not signing anyone." Lin Qi pushed the list away. "The team's framework is already in place. Let's leave some room and preserve some flexibility."
"Huh?" The scouting director froze. "We're just leaving five million sitting there?"
"Let it sit." Lin Qi leaned back in his chair. "When the market is hottest, there usually aren't any bargains, only premiums. If we really want a steal, we need to wait until midseason, when some team can't hold on anymore and needs a fire sale. When that happens, this room will be our capital for taking on other teams' contracts and picking up good pieces at rock-bottom prices."
"The roster is already complete. Signing someone now would hardly change how strong the team is." He shook his head. "I'd rather retain some flexibility."
The scouting director only half understood, but remembering how this president had repeatedly found gems in places no one else had thought to look the year before, he said no more.
The four million-plus in cap space would remain unused for now, a cushion for responding to whatever arose.
In the fall of 1995, the Celtics' training camp opened again.
The outside world's first reaction was not anticipation, but doubt.
Lin Qi had personally dismantled half of the team that had won forty-seven games the previous season and pushed the championship-caliber Knicks to Game 7.
Dominique Wilkins had gone to Europe. Dana Barros had been sent to Philadelphia. Sean Elliott had returned to San Antonio. Marty Conlon, Aaron Williams, and Scott Haskin had all scattered into the torrent of trades as well.
What remained was the framework of the rebuild: Sam Cassell, Eddie Jones, Dino Radja, Magic Johnson, and P.J. Brown.
The newcomers were Kevin Garnett, Michael Finley, Tracy Murray, Eric Snow, and Bruce Bowen, along with the re-signed David Wesley... a group of young men who had yet to prove themselves to anyone.
Boston's media asked the question bluntly and harshly: "Has Lin Qi personally dismantled another team on the rise?"
The new season's roster was essentially set.
After a whole summer of trades, signings, and reinforcements, the 1995-1996 Celtics had finally taken on a new outline.
[Starting lineup] Point guard (PG) | Sam Cassell, height: 1.91 m, age: 25. Swingman (SG/SF) | Eddie Jones, height: 1.98 m, age: 23. Small forward (SF) | Willie Anderson, height: 2.01 m, age: 28. Big man (PF/C) | Dino Radja, height: 2.11 m, age: 28. (Alternate Chinese rendering: Dinuo) Center (C) | Magic Johnson (Ervin Johnson), height: 2.11 m, age: 27. [Core rotation] Combo guard (PG/SG) | David Wesley, height: 1.83 m, age: 24. Swingman (SG/SF) | Wesley Person, height: 1.98 m, age: 24. Swingman (SG/SF) | Michael Finley, height: 2.01 m, age: 22. Forward (SF/PF) | Kevin Garnett, height: 2.11 m, age: 19. Big man (PF/C) | P.J. Brown, height: 2.11 m, age: 25. [Distinguished veteran] Center (C) | Robert Parish, height: 2.13 m, age: 42. [Third unit and specialists] Point guard (PG) | Eric Snow, height: 1.91 m, age: 22. Forward (SF/PF) | Sam Mitchell, height: 2.01 m, age: 32. Forward (SF/PF) | Bo Outlaw, height: 2.03 m, age: 24. Forward (SF/PF) | Tracy Murray, height: 2.01 m, age: 24. [Watch list (unsigned)] Swingman (SF/SG) | Bruce Bowen, height: 2.01 m, age: 24.