On the morning of December 6, 2000, in the Celtics office...
Margaret walked in, shuffling her high heels, and slammed a thick file onto Lin Qi's desk.
"Boss, we've run into a tough opponent."
Lin Qi turned to the first page.
[Bankruptcy liquidation progress: Court auction expected in March next year. Current top bidder: New Balance, with a bid of 55 million.]
" New Balance that sells running shoes, also wants it?" Lin Qi frowned.
"Yes," Margaret said, pointing to the map, " New Balance's headquarters are right next to that bankrupt land. Their president Jim Davis, wants to buy the whole plot and build their brand's global headquarters campus."
Lin Qi nodded and turned to the next page for the [list of creditors].
The largest creditor is a local Boston bank, which owes $50 million.
Below are twelve local construction contractors, who are owed a total of 10 million.
The largest single purchase: Patrick Finneran, 3 million.
"Who is this person?" Lin Qi's gaze lingered on the name.
"He's the biggest construction contractor in Brighton, and a leading figure among the old-school Ireland in that neighborhood," Margaret explained. "He financed this project in the '80s, but it fell through, leaving the $3 million debt as a bad debt. What's worse, he's the president of the local chamber of commerce. Without his approval, the city council would never let you start construction. But... he has a niece who's a lawyer."
"Could we arrange to meet her?"
"I already asked, and her assistant at the law firm said she's unavailable this week."
Lin Qi sneered, "If she hits again, I'll tell her that I not only want to talk about buying the land, but also about how to get back every penny of her uncle's 3 million debt."
December 6, 2000, afternoon, Legal Affairs Office.
The phone was put on speakerphone.
" Ms. Finneran, this is Margaret, representing Lin Qi. My boss would like to discuss the Brighton old factory area with you."
A woman's voice, thick with a Boston accent, came from the other end of the phone, her tone extremely curt. " Lin Qi? Never heard of him."
My boss is Mr. Lin Qi, the owner of the Celtics.
After a brief silence, Beth Finneran's vigilance instantly heightened. "A basketball team owner getting involved in bankruptcy court matters? New Balance and several New York real estate giants are eyeing that lucrative deal. This seems rather far removed from basketball."
"Mr. Lin Qi wants to build a training base," Margaret said, throwing out the bait as if following the script, "And also wants to talk to your uncle about his three million dollar debt."
"How does he want to negotiate?" Beth's tone changed.
"Mr. Lin Qi's proposal isn't to bid in court, but to directly provide a financial guarantee," Margaret said calmly. "He's investing 60 million to take over all the accounts for the old factory area. This will not only get the bank's money back, but also ensure your uncle gets his 3 million back in full. Furthermore, if the project proceeds, we will hire your uncle's construction company as the general contractor, with an initial contract value of 20 million."
There was a deathly silence on the other end of the phone.
After a full half minute, Beth finally spoke in a low voice, "What's in it for him? New Balance could get that land from the bankruptcy court for $55 million, why would he be a sucker and pay $60 million?"
"Because Mr. Lin Qi doesn't like to let his local friends suffer losses in business," Margaret said firmly.
Another long silence followed.
"Have him come to my office at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon." Beth's voice was no longer sharp. "187 North Street Brighton Street. Tell him to bring a detailed written proposal."
2:50 PM, December 7, 2000.
Lin Qi and Margaret stood in front of an unassuming three-story red brick building.
The ground floor houses an old Italy restaurant exuding the aroma of garlic, while the second floor is a law firm. There are no skyscrapers in the financial district here, only an old hardware store across the street and a red-roofed church. This is the underlying character of Boston's lower class.
Pushing open the door, I climbed the creaking wooden stairs, where the walls were covered with old photographs of Brighton District.
The door to the second-floor office was open. Beth was sitting behind a desk piled high with files. She was wearing a smart dark suit, and her features were strong. When she saw Lin Qi come in, she stood up and extended her hand.
"Mr. Lin Qi." When they shook hands, Lin Qi felt that her hand was very strong; she was definitely not a lawyer who only knew how to talk big in court.
" The Celtics have won two consecutive championships." Beth sat back in her chair, arms crossed. "Every night in Brighton's pubs, people are toasting you. But watching football is one thing, buying land is another. Brighton has been messed up by outside speculators; house prices have tripled, and locals can barely afford to rent a basement anymore."
"I understand," Lin Qi said calmly.
"You understand?" Beth raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with mockery. "A billionaire, living in a penthouse in the city center, driving a luxury car, do you understand what it means to be kicked out of your home?"
Lin Qi leaned forward slightly, looking directly into Beth's sharp eyes.
"I understand what it means to be driven to the brink by the expansion of affluent neighborhoods." Lin Qi's voice was deep and powerful. "My parents were first-generation immigrants and ran a restaurant in Chinatown. In the 1990s, the city government planned to demolish Chinatown and sell it to Wall Street to build office buildings. Our family restaurant was the first to be affected. To save our livelihood, we gave all our savings to lawyers. I know what it feels like to be trampled underfoot."
Beth scrutinized him, the mockery in her eyes fading slightly.
"So you're trying to tell me you're a great philanthropist?"
"I'm a businessman." Lin Qi pulled a document from his briefcase and pushed it across the table. "That's why I've brought you this win-win proposal."
Beth opened the file. When she saw "[Invest $60 million to take over the debt]" and "[Prioritize full payment of Patrick's $3 million debt]", her fingers visibly paused.
When she flipped to the last page and saw "[General Contractor: Finneran Construction, Contract Amount: 20 million]", she suddenly looked up, her eyes sharp as knives.
"You want to use a 20 million contract, plus the 3 million you got back, to buy my uncle's support?"
"Let me correct you," Lin Qi leaned back in his chair. "I'm thinking of hiring the most knowledgeable construction contractor in Brighton for 20 million. Your uncle has been here for thirty years; he shouldn't lose everything just because someone else went bankrupt. He deserves it."
" New Balance is also vying for this land." Beth stared intently at him. "Their president, Jim, is my uncle's friend of thirty years. Your plan is trying to make my uncle betray his friend."
" Jim is a business legend in Boston, but in this matter, he's just a shrewd capitalist," Lin Qi retorted. "Have you done the math? If the court agrees to New Balance's $55 million offer, the bank takes $50 million outright, and the remaining $5 million is up for grabs by you twelve local construction contractors. Your uncle's $3 million—you'll be lucky to get $500,000 back. Jim hasn't considered your uncle's hard-earned money!"
That sentence hit the nail on the head. The office fell into dead silence, with only the faint clinking of cutlery coming from the Italy restaurant downstairs.
Beth looked down at the document again.
25% of the housing is designated for affordable housing.
A free community center with a 10 million investment.
A debt restructuring that fully guarantees the debt.
"So, you knew perfectly well that the land was only worth 55 million in court, yet you were willing to be a sucker and pay 60 million to help us?" Beth slowly exhaled.
"I acquired a piece of land that perfectly suits my needs, and incidentally, I made a group of influential local friends." Lin Qi stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. "That's my sincerity."
Beth looked at him, and after a long while, she also stood up.
"I'll take the proposal to my uncle." Her tone finally softened, but still carried a warning, "But Mr. Lin Qi, I must remind you. This is Brighton, Jim has deep roots here. Just having money on paper isn't enough to convince people that you, an Asian, are trustworthy."
"Is there anything else?" Lin Qi asked.
"Action." Beth took a deep breath. "You need to show them that you're truly different from those bloodsucking bastards."