Early November, the first away game of the new season.
A Boeing 757 luxury private jet painted with the Boston Celtics logo is flying smoothly at an altitude of 30,000 feet.
Today, the atmosphere in the cabin was extremely bizarre. No one was listening to hip-hop music, and no one was playing cards. The only sound in the entire first-class cabin was the rustling of papers turning.
Chris Paul Pierce, his brow furrowed, flipped through the still-smelling copy of the Wall Street Journal.
Beside him, Kevin Garnett squeezed his massive frame into the seat, clutching the heavy flip satellite phone.
On the other end of the phone was his long-time private financial advisor, cautiously advising him. " Kevin, Nasdaq tech stocks have fallen too much right now, the risk is extremely high. If you blindly buy in, this money could easily be lost. Perhaps we should put it in safer government bonds or funds..."
"Bullshit!" Garnett interrupted, yelling rudely, "I don't care how badly it's crashed. Just do as I say, buy two million Amazon and two million Nvidia!"
The person on the other end of the phone seemed to be struggling, citing some kind of professional assessment and authorization agreement.
"And listen to me! From today onwards, I'm revoking all your and your company's 'asset management' authorizations! No one is allowed to touch this account again! If anyone dares to let anyone else touch the money in my account, I'll be the first to make them pay!"
Snap!
Garnett slammed his flip phone shut with extreme aggression and let out a long sigh.
"Damn it, these vampires, they're so slow at getting things done." Garnett grumbled as he leaned back in his chair, turning to Pierce, who was reading the newspaper. "Hey, Chris Paul, are you done yet?"
"I've poured all my Nike sponsorship money into this year. Two million." Pierce pointed to the tiny Nasdaq Index section on the newspaper, his brow furrowing slightly. "But I just saw on the news that Amazon's stock dropped again yesterday. Can this lousy website really work?"
"Screw it!" Garnett waved his hand dismissively, grinning nonchalantly. "I don't even know what this crappy company does, but I trust Lin Qi!"
Chauncey Billups Billups, sitting in the front row, looked at the flip-top IBM laptop in front of him. The screen displayed the transaction confirmation page he had just completed through his personal broker, where he had poured a large sum of cash into two tech companies that were considered "junk" by the entire Wall Street at the end of 2001.
Sitting on the back bench, Rick Carlisle looked through the gap in his seat at the group of players who were worth millions but knew nothing about stocks, yet had carelessly thrown millions of dollars into the stock market because of their blind trust in their boss, and shook his head helplessly.
While the Celtics players were busy "value investing" in the air.
Boston, Lin Qi Capital headquarters, trading room.
Lin Qi was sitting in front of a Bloomberg Terminal Machine displaying hundreds of stock quotes, holding half a cold bacon sandwich in his hand.
In the late autumn of 2001, the Nasdaq index was in freefall. The aftershocks of the bursting dot-com bubble continued, and people were jumping off buildings on Wall Street every day.
"Boss, Amazon's stock price dropped another 1.5% at the opening today."
Chief trader Mark, his eyes swollen with dark circles and his voice hoarse, reported nervously, rubbing his hands. "In the past two weeks, we've poured nearly 40% of the company's liquid assets into these stocks. Apple, Nvidia, Amazon... we've bought too many. If the Nasdaq falls again this week, several of our leveraged accounts will trigger margin calls."
Lin Qi didn't speak. He took a bite of the hard sandwich, his eyes fixed on the rows of red numbers on the screen.
It would be a lie to say he wasn't nervous. Lin Qi knew the general trend of the future, but he couldn't guarantee that the fluctuations in between wouldn't prematurely collapse his cash flow. Buying at the bottom on Wall Street is like trying to catch a falling knife with your bare hands.
" Mark, go make a cup of coffee." Lin Qi rubbed his temples. "Tell the guys, no matter how badly the market crashes outside, as long as these stocks see large sell orders, we'll buy them."
"But boss, the analysts outside all say these companies won't survive this winter..."
"Analysts?" Lin Qi tossed the rest of his sandwich into the trash. "If those Armani -wearing idiots really knew how to predict the future, they wouldn't have been urging people to buy when the Nasdaq was at 5000 points last year. Do as I say, buy!"
"Yes, boss." Mark swallowed hard and returned to his workstation.
Margaret brought over a steaming cup of black coffee, placed it on Lin Qi's desk, and handed him a document.
"Good news." Margaret's tone softened as she looked at Lin Qi's exhausted appearance. "The ownership transfer for the New Garden is complete. The legal department confirmed that the auditor Stern sent, after seeing the documents, didn't say anything and bought a plane ticket back to New York."
Lin Qi turned his head and looked at the television set in the corner that had been playing on silent.
On television, the Boston Celtics had just arrived in Philadelphia and were conducting a practice session for their away game.
The camera then cut to Garnett. He was frantically pounding his chest at the camera, muttering something under his breath, as if he wanted to devour someone alive.
Looking at Garnett's overly energetic and unruly demeanor, Lin Qi's temples, which had been throbbing violently from the combination of aspirin and caffeine, miraculously eased a little.
" Margaret," Lin Qi pointed at the TV, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "You know... if we went bankrupt on Nasdaq today, and your boss, me, went to the rooftop to queue up, wouldn't Kevin think I cheated him out of his money, and then fly back and kick me off the building?"