"So, what's your offer?"
Chen Yilun tossed the tough question back to Ujiri.
Ujiri thought for a long while before replying, "Our 27th pick this year and our 2019 first-round pick."
"Are you trying to give me scraps?"
Chen Yilun couldn't help but laugh in disbelief at Ujiri's audacity.
"I already have this year's 26th and 29th picks. What am I supposed to do with your 27th—play Match-3 games?"
He raised two fingers. "The 2017 and 2019 first-round picks, or the 2018 and 2020 ones. Otherwise, forget it."
"Too expensive! Way too expensive!"
Ujiri shook his head rapidly, like a rattle drum.
"That's All-Star pricing—I can't afford that. Not a chance."
"I can add a little something on top of my original offer, but I really can't trade away my future firsts."
After a long back-and-forth with no progress, both sides decided to call it a day and talk again in the evening.
When the video call ended, Chen Yilun exhaled slowly and composed himself.
"What about Boston?"
"They're online and ready to connect," Peja reminded him.
"Patch them through."
Taking a deep breath, Chen Yilun switched on his polished business smile. "Danny Ainge! Long time no see!"
"Let me guess—Toronto didn't give you the price you wanted?"
Danny Ainge's relaxed voice came through the screen.
"Yeah, those guys up north are tighter than a locked vault. No generosity at all."
Chen Yilun joked before cutting to the chase. "So, my dear Angel, what's your offer? I've been eyeing that Nets pick of yours for a while now."
"Forget it. I'd never sell the Nets pick."
Ainge laughed.
That infamous Nets pick was Ainge's masterpiece—the trade that defined his career. He'd sent aging Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett to Brooklyn, getting back five role players, the 2014, 2016, and 2018 first-round picks, plus the right to swap first-rounders in 2017.
That heist crippled the Nets for years.
Now, after the Nets bought out Deron Williams and Joe Johnson and traded away the Celtics' former veterans, the value of Boston's draft capital had soared beyond measure.
"Other than the Nets pick, tell me what you want. I promise not to haggle," Ainge said confidently.
With Crowder gone, the Celtics' wing defense had weakened considerably, and after losing Turner that summer, they desperately needed a strong wing to pair with Isaiah Thomas.
"Here's my situation," Ainge continued, his tone turning serious. "I've got three first-round picks this year and nowhere to use them."
It really was a harvest year for Boston—they held the Nets' No. 3 pick, the Mavericks' 16th pick from the Rondo trade, and their own 23rd pick.
"How about the 16th pick? Interested? I'll throw in the Mavericks' pick and a future second-rounder."
Then Ainge suddenly remembered something. "Oh, right—we've also got four second-round picks this year. You want any of those?"
Chen Yilun was stunned by Ainge's extravagance.
He was tossing around draft picks like they were candy.
"Ainge, are you treating me like a dumpster?" Chen Yilun said with a helpless chuckle. "You've got more picks than you know what to do with, and I'm already drowning in mine. I've got two firsts and a second-rounder sitting idle. If you keep adding more, I might actually start thanking you out of pity."
"Oh, that's right, you're pretty loaded with picks yourself." Ainge laughed heartily.
The two men holding the most draft assets in the league were now bickering like kids, each trying to offload some of their overflowing picks.
"I'm really not interested in the Mavericks' pick. What I want is your 2018 pick."
"You still want the '18 pick? What's so special about that year that you're hoarding it like treasure?"
It was an open secret among league execs that Kings GM Chen Yilun had an inexplicable obsession with the 2018 draft. He'd been stockpiling those picks with almost religious fervor, logic be damned.
At that point, he already held the Knicks' 2018 first-rounder, the Wizards' 2018 first, his own 2018 first, a second-rounder, and the Wizards' plus Spurs' second-round picks.
Even with his stash overflowing, he showed no sign of stopping.
"That's my business," Chen Yilun waved dismissively. "I've got my own reasons."
"How about this," Ainge said after a moment of thought. "Do an old friend a favor. Take our 23rd pick this year—I know you like late-round prospects, and that pick's worth more to you than to me. I'll also give you our 45th pick this year and the 2018 Nets pick.
"As compensation, after you send me Porter, I'll take that 54th pick off your hands. Later, I'll toss in another second-rounder. Deal?"
"Wouldn't that completely blow up my draft space this year?" Chen Yilun said in disbelief.
"You're dumping three first-rounders and a second-rounder on me at once. How am I supposed to develop all of them?"
"What's the problem?" Ainge barked. "Your mentor Popovich built a dynasty developing late-round picks. Haven't you learned anything from him?"
"Even if I did, what good would it do me?"
Chen Yilun rubbed his temples, exasperated. "Knowing how to develop players doesn't mean I have the time or staff to actually do it!"
"I don't care!"
Seeing that persuasion wasn't working, Ainge went full stubborn mode.
"You're still giving me a first-round pick. No one else is offering you a deal this good!"
After another round of heated back-and-forth, Chen Yilun finally gave in.
The final trade breakdown:
The Kings sent out Otto Porter and the 54th pick in the 2016 draft.
In return, they received Boston's 2016 23rd and 45th picks, the 2018 Nets pick, and a 2019 second-rounder.
By the time the deal was finalized, the draft was right around the corner.
"We're like a bunch of small-town folks heading to market with a pocketful of loose change," Chen Yilun joked to himself.
After all these chaotic trades, the Kings now held the 23rd, 26th, and 29th picks in the first round, plus the 45th pick in the second.
"We'll see," Peja said, trying to comfort him. "Maybe those picks can bring out a miracle."
That single line made Chen Yilun look at Peja in disbelief.
A prophet! That's it—he's a prophet!
...