Ernie Grunfeld had already worked out a deal with the Raptors, and he wanted them to select Danny Fortson with the ninth pick.
After trading Ewing, the Knicks were thin in the paint. Fortson was meant to be Charles Oakley's backup. The dude could play both power forward and center, but at 21 years old, he was a bit undersized—just 6'8" (203 cm) and 260 lbs (118 kg). Still, he was a beast on the boards, had a solid mid-range jumper, and decent mobility.
Zhao Dong remembered this No. 9 pick from his previous life. Fortson earned the nickname Rebounding Monster. If it weren't for his foul trouble, which kept his minutes low, his rebounding numbers would've rivaled Dwight Howard's in the future.
Zhao noticed something interesting—Tracy McGrady, who should've been picked at No. 9, slipped to No. 10, where the Bucks scooped him up.
But since the Bucks needed a center, they immediately flipped McGrady to the Heat for P.J. Brown.
Zhao Dong wasn't shocked by the trade. McGrady was a high school pick, untested in the NCAA, and dealing with congenital scoliosis. His future was uncertain.
Still, Zhao thought Pat Riley was out of his damn mind for trading away Brown—a defensive anchor—for a raw high schooler.
Then again, maybe the Heat had their eyes on another big man in a follow-up trade.
After watching for a while, Zhao Dong dipped before the draft ended. The Knicks had the last pick, but he couldn't care less. This was a weak draft class. Sure, there were some future role players, like Mark Jackson and Kevin Cato (who would eventually be Yao Ming's teammate), but Zhao had no interest in those scraps.
June 30, 1997 – Noon
(1 a.m. July 1st, Beijing time)
Zhao Dong sat in front of the TV, tuned into CCTV-4, watching the Hong Kong handover ceremony.
"What a damn shame…" he muttered.
Thinking about the riots that would break out twenty years later made him feel uneasy.
Later that afternoon, he swung by Lindsay's place.
As the sun set and the night rolled in, it was already morning on the other side of the Pacific. Tomorrow, the news he was waiting for would finally break: Thailand would abandon the peg between the baht and the U.S. dollar. The foreign exchange market would collapse, and the baht would plummet by 20% in a single day.
Today was his last chance to make a massive bet.
When he arrived at Lindsay's, he didn't spill too many details. He just mentioned that Thailand's financial situation was spiraling out of control and that major changes were on the horizon. He planned to go all in.
At the moment, Zhao had $35 million in his Swiss bank accounts and $8 million in the U.S. He intended to keep half in reserve and gamble with the other half.
On top of that, he had tens of millions in endorsement money, which he was holding as backup in case he needed more capital to cover any margin calls.
He was aiming for 100x leverage. He didn't dare go higher—any tiny fluctuation could blow up his position.
The insane leverages were for institutional giants, not retail investors like him. Those big players used other people's money, not their own.
"Today? Alright, I'll go with you," Lindsay said, a little hesitant.
She had already pulled all her original capital from the market, so her account was now entirely filled with profits—roughly $8 million. Since Zhao was ready to gamble big, she decided to ride with him.
The two of them quickly contacted Dolores.
Ms. Dolores agreed that Thailand's financial system was on its last legs. The collapse was inevitable.
But she advised Zhao Dong not to risk half his funds with 100x leverage—it was way too dangerous. With that kind of exposure, he could only withstand a one-point swing before getting liquidated.
After some back-and-forth, Zhao accepted her suggestion. He split his money into four parts—putting one-fourth into the market first, keeping another fourth for follow-up investments, and holding the remaining half in reserve. This way, he could handle bigger risks.
---
July 1st, 1997 – NBA Summer Trade Window Opens
As the floodgates opened, team execs around the league scrambled to finalize deals.
At league headquarters, David Stern was swamped, reviewing and approving trades.
"The Knicks are trading Ewing?"
Stern blinked at the first trade application handed to him by his assistant.
But he quickly approved it. The Knicks had a new king—Zhao Dong—so it made sense to part ways with the old, injury-prone Ewing.
Next, he reviewed the Bulls-Suns trade: Scottie Pippen for Jason Kidd.
Stern's eyes lit up. What he wanted most was for the Bulls to beef up their roster and snatch the championship back next season.
Especially after Zhao Dong's infamous brawl with Karl Malone. Stern was itching for the Bulls to humble the cocky Knicks star.
Both trades were swiftly approved.
When the news hit, it shocked the NBA world.
Patrick Ewing's House
Ewing was home when his agent called with the news.
"Patrick, you've been traded to the Raptors."
He froze.
"No… What? What the hell are you talking about? The Knicks traded me?!"
His voice thundered through the house.
"I gave everything to that city! They can't trade me—I'm Patrick Ewing!"
His roar rattled the entire house, leaving his family stunned.
"Patrick, calm down!" his agent shouted.
SMASH!
Ewing hurled the phone across the room, shattering it against the wall.
Zhao was chilling when his phone buzzed. It was Charles Oakley.
"Yo, Dong! Did you know they traded Patrick?" Oakley asked.
"Yeah," Zhao replied casually. "Grunfeld mentioned it during the draft."
"You didn't tell me?" Oakley snapped.
"Charles, we're players—it's not our job to worry about management moves," Zhao shrugged.
"If they don't tell me, I'm not gonna ask. Hell, one day you and I might get traded too. It's just business, man."
Oakley sighed, frustrated but unable to argue. He knew Zhao had no interest in front-office politics. Plus, he was aware that Zhao and Ewing weren't exactly close. Reluctantly, he hung up.
The moment Zhao Dong put down the phone, it rang again.
"Zhao!"
Ewing's voice blasted through the speaker like a cannon.
"You asked management to trade me, didn't you?!"
The usually reserved Ewing was practically roaring with rage.
Zhao immediately pulled the phone away from his ear.
"Are you out of your damn mind, Ewing?!" Zhao Dong snapped. "I don't mess with management decisions. If they wanted to trade you, what the hell does that have to do with me?"
"You knew about this! Don't act clueless, you damn Chinese! I won't let you off the hook!" Ewing barked, voice filled with fury.
Zhao Dong wasn't fazed. Ewing had always been salty about losing his status as the team's centerpiece to the rising star. He'd been holding it in for the sake of the championship, but now he was finally letting it all out.
"So what if I knew?" Zhao sneered. "I told you, I don't stick my nose in management's business. And if you think you're gonna screw with me, I'll fuck you up. You think you're still that big of a deal?"
Without waiting for a response, Zhao Dong hung up.
His relationship with Ewing had always been rocky. They barely spoke, even during the championship run. It wasn't about the ring—it was the power struggle over who ran the team. With Ewing gone, Zhao didn't feel the slightest guilt.
But he was wary of the Bulls' latest move.
Trading for Jason Kidd? That was a serious problem.
Offense: A. Defense: A+. Playmaking: S+.
Second all-time in assists, right behind John Stockton. Second all-time in steals, only behind Stockton.
That was Zhao Dong's impression of Kidd from his past life.
As a rookie, Kidd had averaged 7.7 assists per game, then upped it to 9.7 and 9 over the next two seasons. He was already one of the league's elite playmakers. On top of that, he averaged 2.3 steals per game—making him a menace on both ends.
The Bulls losing Scottie Pippen hurt, but with Kidd running the point, their playmaking and perimeter defense got a massive upgrade.
The Knicks had managed to take down the Bulls this year because Zhao clamped Pippen, disrupting Chicago's entire offense.
But next season? That same strategy wouldn't work. Zhao couldn't shut down Kidd at the one, which weakened his impact on the Knicks' perimeter defense.
Plus, without Ewing, New York's strength had taken a hit. Facing the revamped Bulls would be a nightmare.
Chicago, Illinois
Pippen slumped on his couch, phone pressed to his ear. Jordan was on the other end.
"I'm sorry, old man… I let you down," Jordan muttered.
Pippen didn't respond. His heart was heavy.
Jordan had actually signed off on the team trading him away. The betrayal stung deep.
Meanwhile, in Chicago's front office…
When Jerry Krause got wind of Ewing being shipped out, he got hyped.
The Bulls GM was ready to roll the dice.
He was betting that, despite Ewing's injury, the former Knicks star could still be effective. As a finesse big man, Ewing didn't rely on athleticism, so there was a good chance he could bounce back.
Without hesitation, Krause called the Raptors.
Trade offer:
Luc Longley + Ron Harper + the Bulls' unprotected 1998 first-round pick for Patrick Ewing.
When the Raptors' front office received the offer, they didn't shut it down immediately.
After all, they'd only given up Marcus Camby and the No. 9 pick for Ewing. They knew he was damaged goods and wouldn't be the same next season.
That's why they hesitated—they were willing to flip him for the right price.
The Raptors weren't aiming for a championship. They'd dealt Camby because they had lost faith in him. The rookie was fragile, constantly injured, and had already missed 19 games in his first season.
Camby's poor durability tanked his potential. So when the chance came to land a legendary center, they took it.
Now, with the Bulls' offer on the table, they countered:
Ron Harper + Toni Kukoc + the Bulls' first-round picks in 1998 and 1999 + two role players for Ewing.
In the end, the two sides reached a deal, but Krause only gave up one unprotected first-round pick in 1998.
Once the trade was finalized, Krause was ecstatic.
With Ewing, the Bulls finally had an interior scoring threat. The big man would also provide elite rim protection and rebounding. The Bulls' frontcourt, once their weakness, was suddenly a force.
The NBA world was shook.
"The best player in the league + a Hall of Fame center + an elite point guard + the league's rebounding champ. The deadliest frontcourt and backcourt duo ever—the strongest Bulls team is born! But this deal is bullshit—someone's stacking the deck."
— The New York Times
"The league should block this trade—it's unfair to the rest of the teams."
— New York Sports Daily
The New York media went ballistic, slamming the deal. But it was already done. No one could stop it.
Ernie Grunfeld faced the media's heat.
"How could they pull that off?"
Fuming, he ripped into the Raptors, accusing them of screwing him over by flipping Ewing to a direct rival.
Zhao Dong?
He couldn't care less.
In his mind, the challenge was perfect—Jordan and Ewing together? He welcomed it.
"Let them team up," he thought.
"Can an aging Ewing really handle my attacks?"
Meanwhile, Ewing was over the moon.
He immediately jumped on a media call.
"This is the best move! Michael is one of my closest friends," he said with excitement. "I'll help him win another championship!"
Knicks fans, though?
They lost their shit.
"TRAITOR! TRAITOR!"
Fans mobbed Ewing's house, screaming and cursing him out. His phone was flooded with hate calls.
---
Over in Phoenix…
Charles Barkley had stayed quiet when the Bulls traded for Kidd.
But when the Ewing trade went down, he couldn't hold back.
In a live ESPN interview, Barkley let it rip.
"I can't believe it! I really can't believe it!" Barkley shouted. "Zhao was right—he called it! He forced these guys to team up. Michael Jordan, the man who despised superteams, is now forming one himself!"
Ewing fired back immediately.
"Barkley, you're a goddamn idiot," he snapped in a media interview.
"I'm a year older than you. You didn't mind running to Houston for help—so why are you bitching now?"
Even Jordan had to speak up.
"Patrick's old, and he was banged up in the playoffs," Jordan told reporters.
"He's entering the final stretch of his career. This isn't stacking the deck. And people need to remember—both of his trades were out of his control. He didn't ask for this."
Jordan's statement cooled some of the backlash. The media and fans cut him some slack.
But the press still wanted Zhao Dong's take.
During an interview with TNT, they asked for his opinion.
Zhao was unfazed.
"I don't give a damn what other stars do—whether they team up or ride solo," he said casually.
"Wild beasts roam alone. Cattle and sheep travel in herds. Let them do their thing."
"You think Jordan's a cow or somethin'?"
"What do I care what he is?" Zhao Dong shot back, unfazed.
The reporter pressed on, "There are rumors that you pushed Ewing out. Do you admit it?"
"That's straight-up fake news," Zhao Dong replied, his tone sharp. "My spot as the Knicks' core is already locked in. Why the hell would I need to pull that kinda move? Sure, Ewing might think I had something to do with it, but that's on him—he's wrong. I don't mess with management. I'm not Jordan."
He threw in a jab at MJ for good measure.
Meanwhile, in Chicago…
Jordan was lounging back, puffing on a cigar, feeling good after the Ewing trade.
But when he saw Zhao's interview on TV, his face turned stormy.
"This bastard!" he growled. "He called me a cow? Or a damn sheep?! That punk just can't stop taking shots at me!"
Fuming, Jordan flung his cigar across the room.
Regardless of whether Ewing was washed or still had something left in the tank, the media had already made up their minds—this trade meant the Bulls were practically guaranteed a Finals spot next season.
In New York, the media went nuclear. For days, they torched the Knicks' front office, slamming them for trading Ewing—especially to their biggest rival.
The backlash put Ernie Grunfeld under massive pressure.
But when he tried to strike a deal for reinforcements, he ran into a wall.
As the reigning champs, no Eastern Conference team wanted to trade with the Knicks.
That left Grunfeld scrambling for deals with Western teams.
---
Miami Heat's GM, Pat Riley, made a call to Jerry Krause.
"You guys interested in Luc Longley?" Riley asked.
Krause mulled it over—it was worth considering.
An hour later, they sealed the deal.
Luc Longley was shipped to the Heat.
The Bulls received Miami's top-10 protected first-round pick in the next draft, plus a role player.
Meanwhile, Zhao Dong didn't give a damn about any of the trades.
He was chilling at Lindsay's place.
As night fell, Thailand was already stepping into the early hours of July 2nd.
The Thai morning market opened at 10:30 AM, which was 9:30 PM in New York due to the 13-hour time difference.
At 9:20 PM, the Bank of Thailand made the announcement Zhao Dong had been waiting for.
"Cheers!"
Zhao clinked his glass of champagne with Lindsay. On the other end of the line, Mrs. Dolores was celebrating with them.
Minutes later, the Thai foreign exchange market opened.
Zhao Dong stared at the computer screen, his heartbeat quickening slightly.
Ten seconds… Nine… Eight… Two… One… Open.
SWOOSH!
The market dove hard, like a free-falling stuntman.
Zhao Dong nearly heard the sound of a perfect dive in his head—clean, precise.
He grinned. If the Thai baht were an athlete, he would've given it a gold medal for that dive.
"Eve, congrats—you're about to be rich," he teased.
"Zhao Dong, congrats—you're about to be a billionaire," Lindsay shot back with a smirk.
"When I make my fortune, Eve, I'll buy you a bigger penthouse—with a rooftop pool and a helipad."
Lindsay laughed. "And when I make my millions, Zhao Dong, I'll buy you a whole damn team. You want the Knicks or the Lakers?"
The two kept messing with each other, both buzzing with excitement.
The Thai baht nosedived spectacularly under the watchful eyes of the entire world.
Within 20 minutes, it dropped by 6 points before stabilizing slightly as the Thai government injected funds into the market.
Later, Dolores called with the first wave of good news—the profits were rolling in.
Zhao Dong had invested $9 million into the market.
By the time the market dipped, he was sitting on a floating profit of $54 million.
Lindsay's $8 million was split into four parts. She had $2 million in the market, which brought her a floating profit of $12 million.
Mrs. Doris played it safer. She only invested $5 million, putting $1 million into the market, which earned her $6 million in floating profit.
The Thai government kept pouring cash into the foreign exchange market, but it was like throwing buckets of water into the ocean.
The baht kept plunging.
Zhao Dong didn't care.
He knew Mrs. Dolores' trading team were the best in the business—far sharper than he could ever be. They were running the show.
Back in New York…
Hoffman, kept feeding Zhao Dong live updates—one win after another.
Zhao Dong and Lindsay didn't sleep at all that night.
They were glued to the screen, waiting for the latest reports.
Luckily, it was all good news—no disappointments.
---
July 2nd – 4:30 AM, Thailand Time
The Thai market was about to close.
By then, Zhao Dong and Lindsay's forex accounts had been completely emptied.
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
Zhao Dong and Lindsay clinked glasses with Mrs. Dolores on the phone.
Her husband, John Houston, was also on the call, raising his glass with them.
That day, Zhao Dong hit the biggest payday of his life.
$180 million in profits from Switzerland.
$30 million in profits from New York.
$210 million total.
With his $40+ million capital, the leverage at 100x turned into a 4.5x profit.
Making $200 million in a day was a ridiculous return on investment, even for forex.
After adding in his initial capital, Zhao Dong's assets now sat at $250 million.
Even Michael Jordan was left in the dust.
Zhao Dong was officially the richest player in the NBA.
Lindsay, meanwhile, pocketed a cool $40 million.
She was ecstatic, grinning ear to ear.
Clutching her phone, she leaned over to Zhao Dong, teasing him with a mischievous smile.
"Hey Zhao, I'm gonna give you a fat red envelope," she whispered, her eyes glinting playfully.
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