The moment Eddie Jones put on a Celtics cap, all three phones in the Celtics' war room rang at once.
The entire league wanted to know what that nobody in Boston was doing.
Lin Qi took none of the calls demanding answers.
He took off his suit jacket, draped it over the back of his chair, rolled up his sleeves, and said something to the head scout that left everyone a little baffled.
"The draft is just the appetizer. Tonight, we're making several trades. Bring me the list... get Detroit on the line first."
When the call connected to the Pistons, they had just selected Grant Hill with the third pick, and all of Detroit was celebrating.
"Congratulations on drafting Hill." Lin Qi got straight to the point. "I'm calling to discuss Sean Elliott."
The other end went silent for two seconds.
Sean Elliott was, at that moment, a major headache for the Pistons' front office.
That February, they had intended to send the 1993 All-Star forward to the Rockets for Robert Horry, but the trade had been voided outright after he failed his physical...
Elliott subsequently admitted publicly that he had kidney problems. Now the entire league knew the Pistons were holding a ticking time bomb.
"We have every confidence in Elliott's health." The other side was still refusing to budge.
"Really? Then why did the Rockets' team doctor kill the trade in February?"
Lin Qi spoke unhurriedly.
"You know perfectly well. Now the entire league knows about his physical. Keep holding on to him, and his trade value drops with every passing day."
"Once training camp starts, every team will know you're desperate to dump him. Forget a first-round pick-you might not even get a healthy starter for him then."
"What's your offer?"
"Dee Brown, plus Acie Earl."
The breathing on the other end caught.
Dee Brown, twenty-five years old, a healthy guard who could contribute immediately, had averaged fifteen points last season and won the 1991 Slam Dunk Contest.
Trade him for an Elliott whose kidneys could stop working at any moment?
"Picture it another way," Lin Qi continued.
"You just drafted Grant Hill. A gifted forward who can drive and pass, paired with a star guard who can run and dunk..."
"A Hill-Brown backcourt could make the front page of the Detroit Free Press tomorrow. Your season-ticket phones would ring off the hook. You'd be trading a sick man you don't dare put on the court for a player who can set the box office on fire next season. Do you really need to do the math?"
"...Anything else?" The other side had finally softened.
"Yes." Lin Qi raised a finger. "Since I'm taking Elliott's health risk off your hands, I want the Pistons' 1995 first-round pick."
"We can discuss a first, but it has to be protected."
"Top-five protected? Top-eight?"
"Lottery-protected."
"Fine. The Pistons' 1995 first, lottery-protected. Deal."
After twenty minutes of back-and-forth, Lin Qi made an OK sign.
The assistant coach could not help speaking up. "Lin, what if Elliott's kidney really..."
"His kidneys will be fine," Lin Qi said calmly.
He could not tell anyone in that room that this man would not only be fine, but would return to the All-Star Game two years later, and on some future Memorial Day night, hit a "Spurs miracle game-winner" that would go down in history.
The time to buy a stock was when all the bad news was out.
The summer of 1994 was the historic bottom for the "stock" called Sean Elliott.
When the first round reached the twelfth pick, the outside line that had stayed lit received the most important call of the night.
It was the Indiana Pacers' general manager, Donnie Walsh.
Lin Qi had expected him to call.
There were only three names left before the Pacers' fifteenth pick... Walsh could not wait for that drink after the draft.
"Mr. Lin Qi, I'll be direct." Walsh's voice carried the particular urgency of a contender's front office. "I have the fifteenth pick. I need to shore up a weakness in our roster, and you may have exactly what I need."
"You need a seasoned point guard." Lin Qi finished the thought for him.
A wry chuckle came from the other end. "Looks like you watched that Eastern Conference finals series too."
Lin Qi had done far more than merely watch.
The 1994 Pacers had just fought a bloody seven-game series against the Knicks, falling at the doorstep of the NBA Finals.
Reggie Miller had struggled terribly against double- and triple-teams, while the point guard beside him, Haywoode Workman, had been little help.
What the Pacers lacked was a traditional floor general who could take over as the team's brain and free Miller from the drudgery of handling the ball.
Historically, Walsh would use that fifteenth pick tonight in a three-team trade to acquire Mark Jackson from the Clippers.
Lin Qi intended to get ahead of Mark Jackson and supply Walsh with his own man.
"Sherman Douglas," Lin Qi named him.
"Twenty-eight, a starting point guard in his prime. He excels in the pick-and-roll, with drive-and-kick passes and floaters as his specialties. He's steady running a half-court offense, ready to plug in and play. Put him in your starting lineup tonight, and tomorrow he'll be feeding Miller and Smits the ball right where they want it."
"Mr. Walsh, I have the ready-made floor general you need. No waiting for a rookie to develop."
Walsh's breathing grew noticeably quicker. "The price?"
"Your fifteenth pick. Give me the draft rights; I'll choose the player," Lin Qi said.
"I've already worked out the salary matching for you... Douglas is on a $2.73 million contract. Package Vern Fleming and Scott Haskin together, and their combined $2.83 million fits perfectly. I don't mind taking those two. They can fill out the roster."
Walsh considered it for less than a minute.
An experienced point guard who could immediately free up Miller, for just a mid-first-round pick and two marginal contracts?
For a team thinking only of making a run at the NBA Finals that summer, the deal was an absolute bargain.
"Deal," Walsh said almost before he could finish. "Let's have a drink after the draft. My treat."
When the call ended, another wave of sharp breaths swept through the war room... he had even traded the team's starting point guard, Douglas?
But Lin Qi was already dialing the next number.
In his eyes, this deal was only halfway done.
When the "Pacers" came up at fifteen, the big screen still listed Indiana as the owner of the pick, but the person making the decision was now in Boston.
As planned, Lin Qi selected the pure shooter from the University of Nebraska... Eric Piatkowski.
Before the cap had even warmed on his head, the pick was immediately flipped to the Los Angeles Clippers.
"I heard you wanted Piatkowski," Lin Qi said casually.
"You were talking to the Pacers about a trade earlier, weren't you? But now I have him. I'm not taking your guy away. Piatkowski is still yours. All I want is a future first."
The Clippers were in the middle of a chaotic rebuild and urgently needed young shooters. Piatkowski held enormous appeal for them.
"We can add protections." Lin Qi laid out terms the other side could find no fault with.
"A 1996 first, top-ten protected. If it doesn't convey, it rolls over to 1997, top-eight protected. If that still doesn't convey, top-five protected in 1998. If it still hasn't conveyed by then, it becomes two second-rounders in 1998 and 1999."
"If you show any improvement at all, the pick will fall outside the lottery, and giving it up won't hurt. If you collapse in any given year, the protections will keep your losses from getting too big."
It was a structure no one could fault. The Clippers deliberated for a few minutes, then agreed.
Lin Qi had instantly turned a shooter who had not worn Celtics green for even a second into a future first-round pick full of possibilities.
Next came dealing with the two "throw-ins" he had acquired.
Lin Qi called the Philadelphia 76ers first. "If you don't re-sign Dana Barros, your backcourt will need a veteran who can run the floor. Vern Fleming is ready to plug in and play."
The Philadelphia 76ers took the bait.
Lin Qi sent out Fleming and received defensive guard Gregg Graham, reserve big man Eric Leckner, and the Philadelphia 76ers' 1996 second-round pick.
Lin Qi did not even keep Leckner, immediately calling the Pistons again.
"Detroit, a backup center you can use right away. Eric Leckner."
The Pistons took Leckner and sent over their 1996 second-round pick.
As for the last one, Scott Haskin... a 1993 first-rounder plagued by a back injury, who would most likely miss the entire 1994-95 season.
"He's not a valuable asset. He's just the price I had to pay to get the fifteenth pick," Lin Qi explained to the bewildered head scout.
"Attaching a second-rounder just to dump a small contract belonging to someone who can't play-that would be stupid. Let him sit on the injured list for now. Later, we can use him as an expiring contract to match salaries, or just throw him into a trade."
The head scout stared at the ever-lengthening line on the whiteboard and murmured.
"All we sent out was Sherman Douglas... and we got back a protected Clippers first, two high second-rounders from the Philadelphia 76ers and Pistons, a Greg Graham, plus a Haskin..."
"To be precise," Lin Qi said, capping his marker.
"I turned a $2.73 million starting point guard whose game was already set, whose three-point shot was average, and whose ceiling was plain to see into a future first, two high second-rounders, and a pile of spare parts we can keep moving."
He pointed to the two second-round picks.
"Remember where these two picks will fall. The Philadelphia 76ers and Pistons are both bottom-feeders in the Eastern Conference this year. Those 1996 picks will be frighteningly high. They don't look like much now, but before long, they'll become the leverage I need to swing a major deal."
No one understood what he meant.
Only Lin Qi knew that the two second-round picks now sitting on the whiteboard would be key bargaining chips in just a few weeks.
And that future Clippers first... his gaze drifted farther into the distance... that was being saved for 1996.
Night deepened, and the draft continued.
Lin Qi rolled his aching shoulders and once again picked up the phone that would not stop ringing.
"Milwaukee, Phoenix, Seattle..."
He turned back and smiled at the head scout. "There are still several big fish waiting for us to reel them in tonight."