As soon as he finished speaking, a brief, eerie, and bewildered silence fell over the studio broadcasting live across the United States, followed by undisguised laughter from the two commentators.
" Steve Nash? That white point guard from Santa Clara University?" The commentator shook his head, his contempt and confusion almost overflowing the screen. "I've seen his scouting report. It clearly states: extremely poor physicality, his defense is practically nonexistent, and his physical attributes are utterly unremarkable. In that traditionally weak small division on the West Coast, he might be able to bully those amateur college students who can't even run the plays. In the NBA, any speedy guard could treat him like an ATM on offense, picking him off at will! Boston went through all that trouble, sending out two solid, playoff-caliber players, just to draft this skinny Canada kid who hasn't even grown a beard yet?"
"I really don't understand what these traditional powerhouses are thinking tonight." Another commentator closed his notebook listlessly. "The two most baffling teams in the country tonight are the Lakers, who traded away their All-Star scoring champion and drafted two high school players and a Europe; and the Celtics Lakers, who replaced their tough, ready-to-play players with a defensive liability and a skinny white point guard. These two rival powerhouses seem to have made a pact tonight, collectively abandoning their current achievements and their intelligence in the draft."
"... I still don't understand," the commentator shook his head. " The Celtics traded away Willie Anderson and Ervin Johnson, two playoff-caliber starting rotation players, just to get the 13th pick and draft a skinny white point guard. This team, just eliminated by the Chicago Bulls, should have strengthened their roster and tried to make a comeback, but instead... it seems like they're dismantling the team?"
"It looks like Lin Qi is going to rebuild from scratch," another commentator chimed in. "That's right, they're miles behind the Chicago Bulls. Rather than struggling in the mid-table, they should completely rejuvenate and gamble on the future."
In the office, listening to the sarcastic and cynical mockery on TV, the scouting director's face turned red with anger. He slapped his thigh and exclaimed, "These idiots sitting in air-conditioned rooms, all they know is wingspan and weight! What do they know about passing vision or basketball IQ?!"
Lin Qi simply waved his hand gently, signaling him to calm down.
On the television screen, the Canada boy with slightly messy long hair and an extremely youthful appearance had already walked onto the stage. He was wearing a green Celtics baseball cap, and his smile was a little awkward. He certainly didn't look like a future superstar; he looked more like an ordinary college student who had stumbled into the world of wealth and fame and was at a loss.
Lin Qi looked at him, but silently breathed a sigh of relief. He sat back down in his chair, picked up his coffee cup, and gently raised it towards the television screen.
Let them laugh.
The phone in Lin Qi's office has been ringing non-stop ever since the announcement of Signature 13.
And everyone who came in thought exactly the same thing as the commentators on TV... They all thought that the shelves in Boston had opened for business.
The first call came from New York.
"Lin, congratulations on the 13th pick, great move." The Knicks ' voice was polite, exchanging a few pleasantries before changing the subject, "I heard... you're focusing on youth? I have a few good role players here, plus some extras. How about Sam Cassell? Want to talk?"
Lin Qi smiled and politely declined, "Not for the time being."
The second call was from Seattle.
"Where's Eddie Jones?" the Seattle SuperSonics asked bluntly. "Since you've already traded away two starters, we can give you..."
" Eddie isn't for sale either."
The phone kept ringing.
Houston asked Radja, Atlanta asked Finley, Detroit even considered asking in bulk how many people in Boston were "not for sale."
Their rhetoric varied; some were polite, some direct, and some beat around the bush. But in the end, they all got the same meaning...
Since Boston is willing to sell even their starting lineup, is they planning to completely dismantle the team? Can we take this opportunity to snag some bargains from them?
Listening to the hushed, probing, and calculating voices on the other end of the phone, Lin Qi finally couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Those people on TV thought he was losing his immediate fighting strength and ruining his future.
But the old foxes sitting in the general manager's office know all too well... A playoff team's starting lineup will never lack buyers.
They didn't come to mock Boston.
They came to collect the body, drawn by the smell of blood.
What Lin Qi wanted was very clear.
Future first-round picks.
This season, the Boston Celtics made it to the second round and had a good record, so the first-round pick he had was drafted very late—21st overall.
Lin Qi's original plan was to trade upwards.
He had his eye on the 20th pick, the Cleveland Cavaliers ' pick. Lin Qi knew that in that position lay a treasure that everyone had overlooked: a 2.21-meter giant from Lithuania, Nas Ilgauskas, Big Z.
He's a future All-Star center with injury concerns, but top-tier height, shooting touch, and rim protection potential. He could perfectly fill the gap in the Chicago Bulls' interior defense that Dennis Rodman exploited in the series.
Lin Qi called the Cleveland Cavaliers, wanting to trade his 21st pick plus some other assets for their 20th pick.
But the Cleveland Cavaliers' attitude was very firm.
"Number 20, not for sale." The Cleveland Cavaliers' general manager flatly refused. "Lin, we have our own plans."
Lin Qi raised the stakes again. The Cleveland Cavaliers still wouldn't budge.
After hanging up the phone, Lin Qi narrowed his eyes.
The Cleveland Cavaliers are holding onto the 20th pick so tightly... it seems their own scouts have their eyes on Big Z.
This treasure looks like it won't be easy to steal.
Lin Qi leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table. The path to the 20th was temporarily blocked.
But he wasn't in a hurry at all.
Because he knew there was never just one solution. Since the path to changing his visa was blocked, then...
Let others take the initiative to deliver the signature to your door.
Later that day, the phone rang again.
This time, it's the Denver Nuggets.
"Mr. Lin Qi," the Nuggets ' voice sounded more urgent than the others, "We want to talk to you about a trade. We want your 21st pick..."
Lin Qi held the phone but didn't answer immediately.
His mind raced, quickly processing the Nuggets ' current predicament.
This team has just gone through a disappointing season. To make matters worse, their star center, Dikembe Mutombo, is stuck in a contract renewal deadlock.
Lin Qi spoke slowly.
"Trade up?" he said. "What Denver needs right now, isn't it a signing?"
The person on the other end of the phone was taken aback.
"Your contract renewal with Mutombo," Lin Qi's voice was calm and measured, like a soft knife, "Didn't go too smoothly, did it?"
There was an instant silence on the other end of the phone.
"Your boss doesn't want to pay for that ten-year contract," Lin Qi continued, his tone as flat as if he were stating the weather. " Mutombo hasn't signed. The whole league knows about it."
"You all know in your hearts that Mutombo will most likely leave this summer. Once he leaves, your paint will be empty," Lin Qi said. "What you need most right now isn't a rookie pick that will take three years to develop. It's a starting center who can step up immediately and help you win games next season."
On the other end of the phone, the Nuggets ' general manager remained silent for a long time before finally speaking with difficulty, "... What do you want to say, Lin?"
"I have Dino Radja in my hands," Lin Qi, emphasizing each word.
" Radja?" The Nuggets ' breathing became noticeably rapid.
"A playoff-caliber starting center," Lin Qi rattled off the impressive numbers. "In the just-concluded season, he averaged 22 points and 10 rebounds per game. He has exquisite footwork in the low post and a consistent mid-range shot. He just led us through the playoffs."
" Mutombo is leaving, your paint is open," Lin Qi said. " Radja is under 30, a mature starting center who can score 22 points... No need to develop him, no need to wait, just put him on the court."
Lin Qi paused, then delivered another blow, this time piercing the Nuggets ' heart with pinpoint accuracy.
"And," he said, " Radja and your McDyess would be a perfect complement."
On the other end of the phone, the general manager of the Nuggets gasped for breath.
Lin Qi knew he was right.
Antonio McDyess, the Nuggets' explosive young dunker power forward, is their hope for rebuilding. But McDyess plays entirely based on athleticism, relying on alley-oops, rebounding, and finishing plays. He needs an inside partner who can post up in the low post, stretch the floor in the mid-range, and facilitate the offense to provide him with assists and create space.
After Mutombo left, the Nuggets' ideal frontcourt structure is precisely...
A low-post technical player like Radja, paired with a high-flying, aerial-focused player like McDyess.
Lin Qi's single sentence essentially laid out the blueprint for the Nuggets ' future dominance.
"You guys..." The Nuggets ' general manager's voice was already full of interest, "You want to develop that high school player? Garnett?"
"Yes," Lin Qi readily admitted, "Our paint area needs to be handed over to Garnett. Radja is good, but he and Garnett overlap in position. Keeping him would be a waste."
"So I'm willing to trade him." Lin Qi's voice deepened as he revealed his true condition, "But do you know how much a playoff-caliber starting center like Radja is worth?"
I want your future first-round pick.
On the other end of the phone, the Nuggets' general manager gasped.
"A future first-round pick? Lin, this..."
"A playoff-caliber starting center, averaging 22 points and 10 rebounds per game," Lin Qi said calmly. "He can immediately fill the void left by Mutombo's departure, form a highly complementary frontcourt with McDyess, and could even improve your record next season."
"You're getting two future first-round picks," Lin Qi said. "No matter how you look at it, this deal is a win-win."
There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone.
Lin Qi could imagine what the Nuggets' general manager was weighing at that moment. A future first-round pick seemed expensive. But for a team about to lose Mutombo, with a vacuum in the paint and desperately needing to stop the bleeding, the "future" was far less important than the "present."
And a future first-round pick, whose draft position is still unknown... compared to a ready-to-play player like Radja, doesn't seem so expensive.
This was exactly what Lin Qi had predicted.
The Nuggets are the most eager of all the teams that came to "pick up bargains".
Those in the most urgent need often pay the highest price.
"... I need to discuss this with the boss." After a long silence, the Nuggets ' general manager's voice softened.
"Let's discuss it slowly," Lin Qi smiled. "But don't take too long. You're not the only ones asking about a center of Radja's caliber."
This statement was half true and half false. But for a buyer who was already desperate, the phrase "others are asking" was the last straw that broke the camel's back.
Lin Qi put down the phone, leaned back in his chair, and let out a long sigh of relief.
Soon, the phone rang again.
The assistant glanced at the number and immediately looked up.
Denver.
The hushed conversation that had been taking place in the office fell silent instantly.
Lin Qi pushed the draft list on the table aside and reached out to press the speakerphone button.
On the other end of the phone, the Nuggets ' general manager's voice was much softer than before.
"Lin, we can talk."
Lin Qi remained silent.
" Dino Radja, number 21." The other person paused for a moment, "We give Jalen Rose a first-round pick in 1997 with top-three protection. A first-round pick in 1999 with Lotto protection. If it doesn't pay out in 1999, it goes up to a top-ten pick in 2000. If that doesn't pay out either, it goes up to two second-round picks."
Someone in the room gasped.
Adelman suddenly looked up.
Thibodeau's coffee cup froze in mid-air.
The scouting manager instinctively looked at Lin Qi, as if to confirm whether he had misheard.
This is no longer a normal quote.
This is Denver's lifeline in the shadow of Mutombo's departure.
Lin Qi lowered his eyes and looked at the medical report of Radja on the table.
A few seconds later, Lin Qi looked up.
"Make a deal."
"Fax the documents over. We'll confirm with the alliance office as well."
After the call ended, no one spoke in the office.
On the television, Stern was still on stage, reading out the names of one young person after another. Applause, cheers, and flashing lights created an atmosphere like another world through the screen.
Adelman looked at Lin Qi, his voice low and deep.
You have to talk to Dino yourself.
"I know."
As the draft entered its second round, most of the cameras and microphones in the stands of the Continental Airlines Arena had already left, and even David Stern handed over the uniform department to the vice president and left early.
But the atmosphere in the Boston president's office was tense; no one dared to unbutton their suit jacket.
Lin Qi stood in front of the huge whiteboard. Just moments ago, he had personally wiped away the names of Kobe, Peja, and O'Neal Jr. with a rag.
Jerry West's sweeping performance across the United States tonight was like a blow to the face of everyone in this room.
Lin Qi tugged at his tie with a self-deprecating laugh. In this league full of wolves, he wasn't the only one who could smell the blood. If you glanced at the list even once, that old fox on the West Coast would snatch the meat away with the wind.
The phone rang again.
This time, it's the Seattle SuperSonics. They just finished the NBA Finals. They have no shortage of talent, no shortage of a core player, and no shortage of ambition. What they lack is a backup point guard who can reliably dribble the ball across half-court in the playoffs without making stupid mistakes or stealing the spotlight.
David Wesley fits this definition perfectly.
He's on a low salary, tough, obedient, can defend, can control the game, and can stabilize the situation during the few minutes when Gary Payton is off the court.
Lin Qi didn't hesitate for long.
Nash has arrived.
Sam Cassell is still there.
If Wesley stays in Boston, he will only be slowly relegated to the bench.
This is unfair to him.
The transaction was confirmed quickly.
The Boston Celtics traded David Wesley.
The Seattle SuperSonics traded away a late second-round pick from 1996 and a second-round pick from 1998.
Adelman looked at the document that had just been faxed over and asked a question.
Whom do you want to choose with this slip?
Lin Qi did not answer.
He simply looked down and circled a name at the very bottom of the haphazardly marked list, a name that almost no one noticed.
Ben Wallace.
Virginia Union University.
He is too short, his offense is rough, his free throws are terrible, he has no shooting ability, and he lacks low-post skills.
The scouting report listed so many shortcomings that it could fill half a page.
The names for the second round were read out one by one by the league's vice president, and the applause from the audience was sparse; even the television cameras began to sluggish.
Until that draft position that almost no one paid attention to.
" The Boston Celtics have chosen..."
Ben Wallace.
"From Virginia Union University."
In the office, the scouting director paused for a moment.
"Lin, this guy... we haven't tried him out."
Lin Qi capped the pen with a flat sound.
"Right."
There will be fewer tryouts in the future.
As the vice president's numb voice faded from the television screen, Lin Qi's shoulders, which had been tense all night, finally relaxed slightly.
No one knew that his palms were covered in cold sweat.
In Lin Qi's original memo, this late second-round trade shouldn't have existed at all. Because he knew better than anyone that this short, technically unskilled big man from an outdated era would have been an undrafted player in the original timeline. Lin Qi's ultimate plan, sitting back and watching, was to bring this future Defensive Player of the Year back to Boston with a negligible minimum salary and the cheapest garbage contract the moment the draft closed, in a corner where no one else cared.
But now, he dares not gamble.
Jerry West's almost ruthless series of hijackings in the first half of the night was like a cold steel knife held to Lin Qi's neck. The Godfather of Los Angeles taught Lin Qi a lesson at the bloodiest price: don't try to flaunt your prey in a league surrounded by wolves.
Who knows if, in those few short hours after going undrafted, some superhuman genius might suddenly notice this short, stocky center with his muscular build? Who knows if some team might, at the last minute, beat the Celtics to the punch and call Ben Wallace, offering him an irresistible deal and snatching him away?
Lin Qi, with a cold expression, casually pulled down the curtains, shutting out all the noise from the outside world through the blinds.
Lin Qi closed the list and said to himself, word by word.
Next time, I'm never doing a tryout again.