On the afternoon of the 7th, Hu Weidong touched down in New York.
Zhao Dong pulled up to the airport to scoop him up and took him straight to the hotel so he could shake off the jet lag.
"Brother Hu, how was Nangang about all this?" he asked.
"Not too bad. They didn't make it too difficult for me. Basically, they said if I couldn't make it work here, I could always come back. Aunt Liu also put in some work on my behalf. Before flying out, I went to her place to thank her," Hu Weidong said with a grin.
"If you can stay, did y'all settle the conditions?" Zhao Dong asked.
"Yeah."
Hu Weidong gave a wry smile and said, "I had to terminate my contract and pay them 1.2 million RMB. My salary last year was just 100,000 RMB, and this season it's 200,000 RMB. Over the years, I haven't even made half of what I'm paying out now. Aunt Liu helped, though. If it weren't for her, the fee would've been way higher."
Zhao Dong chuckled and said, "Man, as long as you can hoop here, it's worth it."
Hell, even Yao Ming had to cough up $100K when he left the Sharks back in the day, and he wasn't even on a pro contract.
"Do you have to pay training fees to the Basketball Association once you sign?" he asked.
"Aunt Liu brought that up, said you mentioned it last time. She told me to get here first since they still gotta figure it out," Hu Weidong explained.
"Alright, I got you a tryout with Old Nelson tomorrow afternoon. Get some rest tonight. He's a solid dude—no bias. Playing under him ain't bad."
After setting things up, Zhao Dong left.
On his way out, his phone rang—it was Oakley.
"Zhao, I heard from Wells you got somebody coming in for a tryout?" Oakley asked.
"Yeah, his name's Hu Weidong. Just call him Hu," Zhao Dong replied.
"Bet. We'll roll with you tomorrow. Ben's here too," Oakley said with a chuckle.
"Cool."
"Ben, don't just stand there like a mute. Zhao's giving you a shot—speak up!" Oakley yelled in the background.
"Hey, Zhao," came a deep voice—Big Ben.
"Yo, Ben. You're in New York now, so lock in. We need you to battle inside. I want to see you take that starting center spot before the playoffs," Zhao Dong said.
"Starting center?" Ben Wallace's heart skipped a beat.
"Man, stop playin'. Camby's the second pick," Oakley interjected, still skeptical.
"Camby can't protect the rim like we need him to. He's too light, can't handle physical play. Charles, if he plays more than 60 games this season, I'll owe you $100K," Zhao Dong joked.
"Zhao, I won't miss games!" Big Ben jumped in.
Oakley nudged him. "Call him 'Boss.'"
"Boss!" Ben corrected himself immediately.
"You gotta back that up," Zhao Dong said, grinning.
"I got you!" Ben said with conviction.
"Then bulk up. You ain't strong enough yet," Zhao Dong advised.
"I'm gonna be the strongest dude in the league!" Big Ben clenched his fists like he was about to go to war.
The next afternoon, Zhao Dong pulled up to the hotel with Wells, Oakley, and Big Ben.
He wanted Wells to rep Hu Weidong as his agent—Wells was a straight shooter and reliable.
The four of them hit the Knicks' training facility, where Big Ben and Hu Weidong got their shot in front of Old Nelson.
Hu Weidong was still in peak form, no major injuries, just some minor stuff that didn't slow him down. He showed out in the tryout. The team needed depth on the wing, so after a quick chat with Old Nelson and Ernie Grunfeld, they decided to sign him up.
As for Big Ben, he wasn't quite the beast he'd become yet. His frame wasn't fully developed, no offensive game to speak of, and at 6'9", he was undersized for a center. Grunfeld and Old Nelson had doubts.
"Camby ain't our answer inside—he's too fragile. But Ben? He can be. Plus, his rebounding is already elite," Zhao Dong argued. "We lost Ewing, so we gotta double down on interior defense and rebounding. This season, our paint protection has to be tougher than last year."
"I want us to be the best defensive team inside. Control the opponent's efficiency in the paint while making sure I can get mine. Ain't too many teams out there that can stop me from getting to the rim. Shut down their inside game, and we'll own ours."
He looked at Grunfeld and Nelson. "We don't have extra All-Stars or high draft picks, but I promise you—our squad is still top-three in the league. No team is guaranteed to beat us."
Nelson had already talked strategy with Zhao Dong before. He liked this mix of defensive grit and offensive aggression. Plus, they needed bodies, so he nodded. "Alright, let's keep Ben. Worst case, he warms the bench."
Ben Wallace was still under contract, but getting him wasn't a big deal—a late second-round pick should do it. The Bullets would probably even throw in some cash.
As for Hu Weidong, Wells handled his contract talks with Grunfeld. After about thirty minutes, they locked in a deal.
A 2+1 contract with a player option for year three:
Year 1: $750K
Year 2: $980K
Year 3: $1.32M
Total contract value: $3.05M.
That's an average of over a mil per season—starter-level money. No way Hu Weidong, pushing 28, would've gotten that deal without Zhao Dong pulling strings.
"Yo, Brother Hu, Wells said the contract is as good as it gets," Zhao Dong said.
"Man, that's solid. Converted to RMB, it's over 20 million," Hu Weidong grinned, clearly excited.
"Yeah, but taxes here are high. After Uncle Sam takes his cut and Wells gets his commission, you'll pocket around 55%," Zhao Dong said with a chuckle.
"Damn, that much tax?" Hu Weidong was surprised but still nodded in satisfaction. "Still, more than 10 million is way better than what I'd make in China."
"You got pull back home. Now that you're in the NBA, your agent in China should have no problem locking in some endorsement deals for you," Zhao Dong smirked.
"Speaking of which, you got any endorsements in China?" Hu Weidong asked with a knowing smile.
Zhao Dong shook his head. "Nah, none back home, and not too many here either."
He added, "I ain't hurting for cash. I'm starting a sports gear company, and I wanna be my own face. If I start taking other endorsements, it'll just water down my brand."
"Damn, you already got your own company?" Hu Weidong looked impressed.
"Yeah, by the way, you planning to stay here or looking for your own spot?" Zhao Dong asked.
"I'll stay here. The drive here was like an hour—it's way more convenient for training if I just crash here," Hu Weidong said.
"Cool. I stayed here last season too," Zhao Dong nodded.
"By the way, Zhao Dong, I heard you brought that big dude Yao Ming from Shanghai over to the States?" Hu Weidong suddenly asked.
"Wait, you know him?" Zhao Dong raised an eyebrow.
"Of course! He just played in the 8th National Games in Shanghai this year. Dude's a giant—how could I not?" Hu Weidong laughed.
"Yeah, he was about to join the CBA, but he lost 100 grand and ended up coming here instead," Zhao Dong chuckled.
The next day, Hu Weidong flew back to China to handle his contract with Nangang. Soon after, the Chinese media caught wind of the news, and just like that, headlines about Hu Weidong joining the NBA blew up.
"Zhao Dong, is it true? Did Hu Weidong really sign with the Knicks?" Zhang Heli called him, hyped as hell.
"Yep, coming off the bench," Zhao Dong confirmed.
"Oh, that's dope. Hu Weidong's got game—he'll fit right in as a bench player in the NBA," Zhang Heli said, sounding pleased.
"Honestly, if you were younger, you should've made the jump earlier. Two years ago would've been perfect," Zhao Dong said.
"Man, there wasn't even an opportunity two years ago! I heard you tryna bring Yao Ming over too?" Zhang Heli asked.
"Yeah, gotta get a few more guys out here. If we wanna be real contenders at the next Olympics, we need dudes training in the best leagues," Zhao Dong replied.
"Olympic medals? Damn!" Zhang Heli almost bit his tongue in shock.
"Coach Zhang, keep that on the low. We got three years to go—no need to rush," Zhao Dong warned.
"Relax, I got you. I won't say a word," Zhang Heli assured him.
"I want him training back home for now. My club sent some trainers over there. He should train for a year before entering the NBA draft," Zhao Dong said.
"Yeah, I visited your club a while back. The national teams in different sports train there—men's and women's basketball, track and field, weightlifting—you got a whole setup," Zhang Heli said with a smile.
"Yeah, the higher-ups arranged it, and so far, the feedback's been great," Zhao Dong said.
On the 14th, Hu Weidong wrapped up his business in China and flew back to the States. He officially signed his contract, making him a New York Knick. Since the preseason wasn't over yet, he jumped right in.
Back in New York, the media started buzzing about Hu Weidong joining the Knicks. Reporters speculated that he only got the contract because of Zhao Dong's influence, but they weren't too critical.
The reason was simple—most of the guys Ernie Grunfeld signed were just roster fillers. Veterans on their last legs, guys barely hanging on. Meanwhile, Hu Weidong had played in the Olympics last year and even dunked on Pippen. No way he was worse than those washed-up vets.
By October 20th, the preseason was done. Hu Weidong played in three games, averaging 26 minutes per game as a shooting guard. His numbers weren't eye-popping—11.5 points, 2.1 rebounds, 2.8 assists, shooting 34.5% from the field. His efficiency was shaky, but it was his first time playing in the NBA. The competition was fierce, and flying back and forth between China and the U.S. had drained him. Even with those struggles, he was more than good enough to be a Knicks bench player.
At lunch, Zhao Dong treated Hu Weidong to a meal and asked, "So, Brother Hu, how's it feel playing out there?"
"Man, the physicality is on another level!" Hu Weidong sighed. "Dudes out there straight-up tackling me, and the refs ain't even calling fouls. I gotta adjust."
"Yeah, just don't get injured," Zhao Dong laughed. "By the way, you catch an elbow yet?"
"Plenty!" Hu Weidong nodded, rubbing his chest with a helpless smile. "Making money in a capitalist league ain't easy!"
"Haha!" Zhao Dong cracked up.
"Anyone talking trash to you?" he asked curiously.
"Probably, but I don't understand half of it anyway," Hu Weidong chuckled.
Zhao Dong laughed again. "Alright, let Wells find you a translator and an English tutor. Just hire an international student or something."
October 21, 1997—the official start of NBA training camp. Every player had reported back, marking the beginning of a brand-new season.
That morning, the Knicks' practice facility was buzzing with activity.
At 8:30 AM, Zhao Dong was still on his way, but Hu Weidong and Big Ben—both newcomers—had already arrived at the gym, ready to get to work."
They were roommates, had the same agent, and both got into the Knicks thanks to Zhao Dong. Since they were both new to the team, they clicked fast and were on the verge of becoming close—though mostly in a "plastic brothers" kind of way.
Only problem? Hu Weidong barely spoke English, and Big Ben barely spoke at all. That meant communication with the rest of the squad was limited.
"That the Chinese dude Zhao Dong brought in?" Allan Houston asked John Starks.
"Yeah, should be him," Starks nodded.
"Let's go say what's up," Charlie Ward said, leading the way.
A few guys walked over, and Larry Johnson called out, "Yo, y'all Zhao Dong's people?"
Hu Weidong pointed at himself. "Me? Secret?"
"Damn, man don't even know English? That's rough," Houston said. "Gonna be tough for him to learn the plays and get in sync."
Hu Weidong glanced toward the entrance, but Zhao Dong wasn't around yet. He sighed—he really needed to learn some English, fast.
"Yo, everybody here?" Oakley's voice boomed as he walked in.
"Charles " Big Ben greeted.
"Charles!"
As one of the Knicks' enforcers and a locker room leader, Oakley got instant respect. Everyone greeted him as soon as he stepped in. A few other players, including Camby, walked over too.
Oakley scanned the room and frowned. "Where's the big shot?"
A few minutes later, Zhao Dong finally strolled in, fashionably late.
"Boss!" Allan Houston shouted first.
"Uh… Boss," Marcus Camby muttered, feeling awkward. Dude was undrafted while he was the No. 2 pick, and now he had to call him "Boss." Crazy how things worked in the league.
"Alright, fellas, got something for y'all," Zhao Dong said, dropping a huge bag on the ground. He nodded at Starks. "John, pass 'em out. One for everybody."
"Damn, the boss got gifts?" Starks yelled, hyping it up.
"What is it?" Houston asked as the squad rushed over.
"A Piaget men's watch, $20K a piece. Y'all tell me, am I generous or what?" Zhao Dong smirked.
"Sheesh, that's tough!" Starks whistled, checking out the watch.
"Boss, I'll strike a pose for you right now," Chris Childs joked.
"Man, get outta here!" Zhao Dong laughed.
"Hey Boss, can I get one too?" rookie Danny Fortson asked eagerly.
"If you call me Boss, yeah." Zhao Dong grinned.
"Boss!" Fortson yelled instantly and snatched his gift.
"Thanks, Zhao Dong." Hu Weidong took one, not holding back. A $20K watch? That was more than his entire salary last year back in China. This was another level of luxury.
Oakley grabbed two, handing one to Big Ben before addressing the squad. "Aight, y'all got your gifts, but listen up—this don't mean we slack. We're the defending champs. If you ain't grinding, the Knicks won't keep you around."
Zhao Dong nodded and stepped forward. "Facts. Listen, the Bulls this year? They stacked. Super stacked. The media already writing us off. So from now on, forget last season. We start from scratch. We got a whole season to fight. Heat? Jazz? Bulls? We goin' at everybody. Regular season, playoffs, Finals—anybody in our way, we takin' 'em out!"
His voice boomed through the gym, pure intensity.
"Fight for that 'chip!" Oakley shouted right on cue.
"Fight for the 'chip!" the squad echoed, voices rising.
Outside the gym, Knicks beat reporter Thomas heard the roar and broke into a sprint. "Damn, we're late! Zhao Dong's already giving a speech!"
A pack of reporters and a camera crew scrambled after him, trying to get inside.
Right behind them, the coaching staff and front office—including Nelson Sr. and Ernie Grunfeld—walked in just in time to see Zhao Dong wrapping up his first workout of the season.
"Alright, huddle up!" assistant coach Tom Thibodeau barked.
Head assistant coach Jeff Van Gundy pulled out the roster list and started calling names.
Bigs: Oakley, Camby, Fortson, Larry Johnson, Big Ben, Buck Williams.
Wings & Guards: Zhao Dong, Hu Weidong, Houston, Charlie Ward, Starks, Childs.
Twelve players locked in with guaranteed contracts. Three open spots left for the season—some flexibility to move.
The grind was officially on.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Do you want to read Advanced Chapters?
Visit this link:
Påtreon.com/Fanficlord03
Change (å) to (a)