July 1996 – Shanghai, China
Yao Ming was just two months shy of turning 17.
He was still a young kid—green and raw.
You could see the nerves and awe written all over his face.
Along with Zhang Mingji, Yao's parents were by his side.
Zhao Dong hosted Yao's family at his place, then they all headed out for lunch at a restaurant.
Throughout the meal, the conversation kept circling back to Yao Ming's future in the NCAA.
"Did you settle everything with the Sharks?" Zhao Dong asked, flashing a grin. "That's good. No need for drama. It's fine to give them a little money—don't sweat it. With Yao's size and skill, he's gonna be making millions in the NBA soon. That little cash won't mean a thing."
Yao's mom was still unsure. "Zhao Dong, do you really think Yao can play well in the U.S.?"
"Of course!" Zhao Dong answered without hesitation.
Seeing her slightly relieved, he suddenly added, "By the way, I'm planning to change Yao's school."
The Yao family was confused.
"Wait, isn't he heading to Georgetown?"
They'd done their research—Georgetown was a legendary center factory.
Ewing, Mourning, Mutombo, and even last year's #1 pick, Allen Iverson, had all come from there.
So why the sudden change?
Zhao Dong explained calmly, "I got an invitation from Duke University. It's a better fit. They've got a higher chance of making March Madness, which means more exposure for Yao in the NCAA."
After his explanation, the Yao family understood.
Attention was everything.
Zhao Dong knew it firsthand—Stony Brook University was weak, and because of that, he flew under the radar.
If he had played for a bigger school, he might've been a second-round draft pick straight out of college.
Zhang Mingji's eyes lit up.
"That's way better! Duke is a powerhouse. They're guaranteed to make March Madness!"
"And Coach K is one of the top dogs in the NCAA," Zhao Dong added with a smile.
Yao's mom was a little emotional.
"Zhao Dong, how can we ever thank you for this?"
Zhao Dong waved it off with a grin.
"Aunt Fang, if Yao trains hard in the NCAA, that's all the thanks I need. When we team up at the 2000 Olympics, we'll go for a medal together—inside and out."
The words hit Yao's parents like a bolt of lightning.
A medal?
That was a pipe dream.
The Chinese men's basketball team had never finished higher than eighth.
A medal was unthinkable.
Yao himself was stunned.
"Me? Win a medal? Am I really that good?"
Zhao Dong chuckled and gave him a friendly slap on the back.
"Yao"
"Yes!" Yao replied instantly, straightening up.
Zhao Dong's expression turned serious.
"Let me give you some advice. When you start at the NCAA, you'll need to bulk up. But first, you gotta decide on your play style. Do you wanna be a power center like Shaq, dominating in the paint, or a versatile big like Ewing and Olajuwon, with footwork and finesse?"
Yao scratched his head, looking lost.
"I… I don't know!"
His parents, both former centers, were equally unsure.
Yao's mom finally asked, "Zhao Dong, what do you think?"
Without hesitation, Zhao Dong replied, "Yao is too tall and his bones aren't thick enough. Bulking up too much will mess with his mobility. He should model his game after Dream (Olajuwon). He's already got soft hands and good footwork—the foundation is there.
"Just watch your weight gain. Stay lean. If you get too heavy, you'll lose your agility. And too much weight could wreck your knees."
---
July 23rd – Beijing, China
The Chinese national team returned from their overseas training camp.
Zhao Dong, accompanied by Liu Yumin, headed straight to the Beijing training base at Tsinghua University.
The moment they walked in, Hu Weidong spotted them.
"Yo! Look who it is! Zhao Dong!" he hollered. "The man who destroyed Jordan! I still can't believe it!"
Sun Jun, one of the CBA's top stars, grinned and called out, "Zhao Dong! Finally reporting in, huh?"
Nearby, Liu Yudong, the God of War himself, nodded approvingly.
"We've been dealing with a lot of injuries. With Zhao Dong joining us, we've got a real shot at dominating the AFC Championships."
The players were hyped.
Seeing Zhao Dong had them buzzing with excitement.
---
"Mother Liu!"
Hearing Liu Yumin's voice, Wang Zhizhi—nicknamed Dazhi—called out and jogged over.
Despite being almost the same age as Zhao Dong, Dazhi still had a baby face.
Liu Yumin smiled. "Hey, Dazhi! Come over here…"
He waved over the rest of the squad.
Zhang Bing, the team's head coach, greeted them.
"Coach Zhang, this is Zhao Dong," Liu Yumin introduced.
Then he turned to Zhao Dong, "Zhao, this is Coach Zhang Bing."
"Coach, pleasure to meet you," Zhao Dong greeted him.
Zhao wasn't too familiar with Zhang Bing.
He only knew the guy was a former national team player who'd competed in two Olympics.
But Zhang Bing's coaching tenure wasn't stellar—the Chinese team would soon lose to South Korea at the Asian Championships, failing to qualify for the World Championships.
After that, Zhang Bing would be replaced by Wang Fei.
Zhang Bing shook Zhao Dong's hand firmly.
"I've been looking forward to this day since I took over. Finally, you're here."
Zhao Dong smiled modestly.
"Hope I don't let you down, Coach."
Zhang Bing introduced the team one by one.
When he got to Dazhi, Liu Yumin gave a playful nudge.
"Zhao Dong, this is Dazhi. He just turned pro in China—he's barely a month younger than you.
But since you're older, he's gotta call you 'big bro'."
Zhao Dong grinned and shook Dazhi's hand.
"Hey, Dazhi. You killed it at last year's Olympics. That block on the Admiral (David Robinson)? That was nasty. I was cheering for you."
Dazhi turned red and stammered, "B-Big bro, you're being too nice. I'm nothing compared to you!"
Zhao Dong smirked.
"Ever thought about playing in the NBA?"
Dazhi's eyes widened.
"W-What?"
He stared, mouth agape.
Even Liu Yumin was stunned.
"Wait… Zhao Dong, you think Dazhi can make the NBA?"
Hu Weidong also perked up, eager to hear Zhao's answer.
Zhao Dong turned back to Dazhi.
"Look, my training facility is almost done. My U.S. trainer is coming soon.
If you train with me for a year or two, you'll be ready for the draft."
"You got NCAA offers after the Olympics, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, I got seven or eight invitations," Dazhi nodded.
Zhao Dong sighed.
"Your military status is gonna be an issue. Since you're already playing pro, you can't go to the NCAA.
Your only option is to enter the NBA draft directly."
Hu Weidong suddenly chimed in.
"Zhao Dong, what about me? What do you think?"
Zhao Dong flashed a grin.
"Brother Hu, you dunked on Pippen last year at the Olympics. That was cold. Did you enjoy it?"
Hu laughed.
"Enjoy it? Pfft. You blew him up in the playoffs. Got the Bulls to trade him. Now THAT was badass!"
Zhao Dong smirked.
"You really wanna go to the NBA?"
Hu grinned.
"I've thought about it. Just never had the chance."
"What year were you born?" Zhao asked.
"1970. I'm 27 now," Hu replied.
"How are your stats this season?" Zhao Dong asked casually.
"30 points, 4 rebounds, and 3.6 assists," Hu Weidong replied with a grin.
"Damn, Brother Hu's the league MVP this year," Dazhi chimed in.
Zhao Dong leaned back with a smirk. "Well, the Knicks did trade away a lot of guys. We're kinda short on backcourt depth. If you're serious about giving the NBA a shot, I can hook you up with a trial contract. What do you think?"
Hu Weidong's eyes widened. The offer caught him off guard—it was so sudden. He was shocked but also excited.
Zhao Dong added, "Just to be clear, if the Knicks keep you, it'll probably be as a rotation player. Breaking into the main lineup will be tough. Just keep your expectations realistic."
Hu Weidong nodded quickly, his excitement barely contained. "Rotation's fine! Just getting a chance to play in the NBA is already a win for me. I can leave my basketball career with no regrets."
Before he could say more, Liu Yumin interjected, "Xiaodong, let's put this on hold for now. Focus on playing well in the Asian Championships first. If you get the NBA opportunity later, we'll support you all the way."
"Got it, got it." Hu Weidong grinned, knowing he had something huge to look forward to.
But this wasn't just his decision. He had only been with Nangang for a year. He couldn't just up and leave unless the team released him.
"Coach Zhang, the Asian Championships are coming up soon, right? How's the team looking?" Zhao Dong asked.
"Yeah, it starts on the 5th next month."
At the mention of the tournament, Zhang Bing let out a heavy sigh. The man was clearly feeling the pressure. He was still green as a head coach, having just taken over from Gong Luming, who had retired the previous year. On top of that, the team was plagued with injuries.
"Battelle, Zheng Wu, and Shan Tao are out. Liu Xiaoyong and Liu Yudong are still dealing with lingering injuries. They barely trained and might not even play. Half the roster is banged up," Zhang Bing lamented, rubbing his temples.
The only silver lining? Liu Yumin was back running the basketball department, restoring some stability. And of course, the biggest boost was Zhao Dong joining the team, making them significantly stronger.
Zhang Bing turned to Zhao Dong, a bit hesitant but hopeful. "We were planning to ease Dazhi in since he's still young and under a lot of pressure. He's got some nagging injuries too. But now that you're here, we're counting on you to carry the load."
Zhang Bing's voice carried a trace of desperation. He was inexperienced, his players were falling apart, and he lacked confidence. But with Zhao Dong, he saw a glimmer of hope.
Zhao Dong nodded, then turned to the team. "What do you guys think?" he asked, scanning their faces.
The room was filled with familiar faces—Liu Yudong, the God of War, Little Li Nan, Li Xiaoyong, Wu Naiqun, Zhang Jinsong, Hu Weidong, Gong Xiaobing, Wu Qingnong, Fan Bing, and Sun Jun. Veterans who had been through the grind together.
There was no need for a team "boss" in the national squad, but there had to be a leader—someone the team could rally around. Zhao Dong needed their respect and recognition.
Liu Yumin suddenly spoke up. "Zhao Dong, with all the injuries this year, you need to step up and carry this team. You've got the skills and the experience—you're the guy for the job."
Her words carried serious weight. She wasn't just any basketball official—she was a legend in Chinese basketball. The founder of the CBA, the woman who saved Chinese basketball during its darkest hours. When she spoke, everyone listened. Even the coaching staff fell in line.
With Liu Yumin's backing, Zhao Dong was instantly recognized as the core leader of the Chinese men's national team.
Zhao Dong wasn't originally planning to play in a low-level tournament like the Asian Championships. But with the men's team in shambles, he couldn't turn his back on them.
In his past life, the Chinese team had lost to South Korea in the semifinals, failing to qualify for the World Championships. That was a bitter memory. There was no way in hell he was going to let that happen again.
His injury resistance was maxed out at level 100—playing a few extra games was nothing. He saw it as bonus training during the offseason.
With Zhao Dong in the mix, the Chinese national team was finally looking like a proper squad.
---
The Next Day – Dongcheng Club
The national team had their first training session at Dongcheng Club, brought there by Liu Yumin.
When Zhao Dong arrived, he saw Dazhi and the rest of the team already warming up. A group of trainers from the U.S. were assisting with their conditioning.
There were six specialists—five trainers and a rehab therapist—all experts in strength training across multiple sports, including basketball. Zhao Dong had hired them with an annual salary of $150,000 each, plus full accommodations. It was a hefty price tag, but for him, it was just pocket change.
He spotted Harris, one of the white trainers, working with Sun Jun.
"Harris, you got all the training plans ready?" Zhao Dong asked.
"Yeah, but some of the guys are seriously banged up. We've put together rehab programs for them," Harris replied.
Zhao Dong nodded, then pointed at Hu Weidong and Dazhi. "Those two—intensify their plans. Make it strict, NBA-level standards."
Harris blinked in surprise but quickly nodded. "Got it."
Zhao Dong strolled over to Hu Weidong, who was stretching nearby.
" Hu, you really thinking about making the jump to the NBA?" Zhang Jinsong asked quietly, walking over.
"Why not? They pay in U.S. dollars, man!" Sun Jun joked, patting Hu Weidong on the back.
Hu chuckled. "It's still just talk. My contract with Nangang is a problem. Even if I get a trial, they might not let me leave."
Zhang Jinsong shook his head. "Man, Zhao Dong is the Knicks' boss. He just led them to a championship. The team's gotta respect his call. With Zhao vouching for you, what's there to worry about? You've got the skills."
Hu Weidong exhaled sharply, a conflicted smile on his face. "It's about skill, though. The NBA and the CBA are two different worlds. If I'm not good enough, it's meaningless to stay over there just riding Zhao's coattails."
Sun Jun grinned and clapped him on the back. "You're crazy, bro. Better to be a rotation player in the NBA than a star here. You'd still be making bank. Hell, you're already the league MVP!"
Zhao Dong would set aside half a day every day for training—just shooting drills and some strength work—and then spend the other half showing Lindsay around Beijing.
That was his privilege. The rest of the squad trained all day unless they were injured. But Liu Yumin and the coaching staff gave Zhao Dong a pass since he played hundreds of games in the NBA every season—on a whole different level compared to the CBA's intensity.
On July 28, Thailand officially requested financial assistance from the International Monetary Fund.
That move confirmed Thailand had completely lost control of its domestic financial situation—it had no cards left to play. The Asian financial crisis was officially in full swing.
At the same time, Hong Kong braced for Soros' assault. Massive international hot money was about to flood into Hong Kong.
Zhao Dong remembered it vividly. By next month, the Hang Seng Index would plummet to just over 6,000 points. If the Hong Kong government didn't burn through its $100 billion HKD foreign exchange reserves, the linked exchange rate system would collapse.
"Cheers!"
At the end of the month, Zhao Dong and Lindsay clinked their champagne glasses.
By today, his $200 million investment had ballooned into $1 billion—a fivefold return.
Even so, Madam Dolores had been ultra-conservative. She kept 70-80% of the funds as reserves to avoid margin calls. Otherwise, they could've made even more—potentially billions. But that would've drawn attention from the financial titans they were competing against.
After all, they were robbing the big sharks. Those sharks used massive capital and influence to orchestrate everything, reaping profits from start to finish. But Zhao Dong's crew was making a bigger killing with way less capital.
This financial crisis wasn't just a random event. It was a calculated move, much like the Plaza Accord that wrecked Japan's economy in the mid-1980s—manipulated by the U.S.
Back in the '70s and '80s, Japan became filthy rich practically overnight. The U.S. media hyped the narrative that Japan would "buy America," but that wasn't why the Plaza Accord happened. Japan was never going to own the U.S.
The real reason was OPEC's plan to make the Japanese yen the second international trade currency. That threatened the U.S. dollar's dominance—the true trigger for the Plaza Accord.
This Asian crisis was no different. Eight Southeast Asian countries had drawn up plans to bypass the U.S. and use their own currencies for international trade. That challenged the dollar's hegemony, so Soros was sent in to unleash the financial storm, dismantling years of progress in those countries.
Knowing that, Zhao Dong played it smart. He needed Mrs. Dolores and the Swiss Bank as buffers to avoid becoming a target of Soros' wrath.
With his $1 billion windfall, Zhao Dong planned to take out $200 million to establish his domestic venture capital firm and Zhao dong Sporting Goods Company.
His venture capital firm would invest in high-risk, high-tech startups. Since this industry was still underdeveloped in China, he had the edge. At the time, there were practically no domestic venture capital funds, which allowed Western VC firms to dominate the scene.
The result? Every major Chinese internet company would eventually go public in the U.S., subjected to American regulations—a massive loophole in national security.
With his rebirth knowledge and newfound wealth, Zhao Dong wasn't about to let that happen. He planned to stake claims in future Chinese tech giants.
On this day, he returned to the headhunting company.
His venture capital firm didn't need many top executives—just loyal ones. He would call all the major shots himself.
It was now August, and international hot money had finally landed in Hong Kong.
Zhao Dong's team shifted their investments to Japan and South Korea.
That same day, Yao Ming and his family arrived in Los Angeles.
American universities would start classes at the end of August, so Yao needed to choose a school before then.
First stop: Duke University—the one Zhao Dong recommended. Next, Georgetown University. Lastly, the University of Southern California.
"Hello, Coach K. This is Zhao Dong from the Knicks."
"Hey, Zhao Dong!"
On this day, Zhao Dong called Coach K, Duke's head coach. It was their second call—he had already spoken with him once to secure Yao Ming's invitation letter.
The first time, he'd introduced Yao in detail. This time, he discussed Yao's potential development plan with Coach K.
"Zhao Dong, I haven't seen him yet, but I hope he's as good as you hyped him up to be," Coach K joked.
"I guarantee it," Zhao Dong chuckled.
That same day, the Chinese men's basketball team flew to Saudi Arabia, landing in Riyadh.
The Asian Championships were being held in Riyadh. The heat and unfamiliar diet worked against the Chinese team—a major factor in their previous loss.
Still, even with the injuries, China remained Asia's strongest team. Even South Korea, the second-best squad, was a level or two below. With Zhao Dong in the lineup, they were practically unbeatable against weaker teams.
On the 3rd, Zhao Dong got a call from Yao Ming.
"Bro Dong! I got into Duke! Coach K said they're giving me a full scholarship!" Yao's voice was filled with excitement.
Studying abroad was expensive—especially for athletes—so landing a full scholarship lifted a huge financial burden off his family.
"For real? With your size, how could it be any other way? Coach K just struck gold!" Zhao Dong laughed.
Yao chuckled nervously. Zhao Dong added, "Hey, Yao, in America, you gotta show some personality. Don't be so reserved that you can't even get a word in. Stand your ground and don't let anyone push you around."
"Yeah… my English still sucks though," Yao admitted.
"Don't sweat it—just keep practicing. You're not an idiot."
Zhao Dong also advised, "On the team, talk to Coach K regularly. Let him know what you need and what you're aiming for."
"Got it, Bro Dong."
On the 5th, the Asian Championships tipped off.
Zhao Dong only played limited minutes—around 12 per game. Sometimes he sat for half the match, only stepping in during clutch moments. For him, it was basically an exhibition run.
His talent was on a completely different level from the rest of the competition. Every time he touched the ball or scored, the crowd went wild. With each game, he gained more fans and further cemented his status as Asia's top player.
By the end of the tournament, his core position on the national team was undisputed.
Off the court, he and Lindsay spent a lot of quality time together during the offseason. Their relationship grew deeper, and both felt it was time to make things official.
On the morning of August 9, Zhao Dong booked a meeting room at the hotel and hit Lindsay with a mysterious invite.
When she walked in, she froze. The entire room was packed with roses—floor to ceiling.
"For me?" she asked, wide-eyed, looking at Zhao Dong with a mix of surprise and joy.
"Of course," Zhao Dong grinned. "Every one of the 9,999 roses is for you."
"Zhao, why roses today?" she asked, still in disbelief.
"This is our Chinese Valentine's Day—Qixi," he explained with a smile.
"Qixi? That sounds so beautiful," Lindsay beamed, her eyes sparkling with joy.
Zhao Dong stepped closer, his expression serious but warm. "Miss Lindsay, will you be my girlfriend?"
Lindsay's cheeks flushed as she quickly nodded. "Uh-huh…"
--
That night, it was time for the semi-finals: China vs. South Korea.
In his past life, injuries had plagued the Chinese squad, leading to their elimination by just a few points. This time, Zhao Dong was having none of that.
Before the game, he stood in front of his teammates and the Basketball Association's management, firing them up.
"No matter what, we ain't losing to Korea. The Chinese national football team might be scared of them, but not us. We ball hard. We make them afraid of China. Y'all with me?"
His voice was fierce, and it hit home.
Liu Yumin, head of the Basketball Association, nodded approvingly.
"Director Liu, this might cause some international backlash," Xin Nancheng, the deputy director of the Basketball Department, muttered cautiously.
Liu Yumin shot him a sharp look. "Backlash? This is sports, not diplomacy. You can't win, you don't get to talk. Since 1978, the Chinese football team hasn't beaten South Korea. They never show mercy—why the hell should we?"
Xin Nancheng fell silent, knowing he had no ground to stand on.
---
Tip-off.
Zhao Dong caught the ball and went full throttle. With a crossover that made the Korean defender stumble, he drove straight to the hoop.
BOOM!
He slammed it home with one arm, smashing the rim and sending the Korean center flying.
The entire crowd erupted.
"Ho-ho-ho! That's like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut!" CCTV commentator Han Qiaosheng roared with laughter.
The Korean players were rattled. With every possession, Zhao Dong bullied them inside, draining fadeaways, muscling through contact, and swatting shots into the stands.
By the end of the game, the scoreboard was brutal: 82-41. China had doubled South Korea's score.
Zhao Dong barely broke a sweat, finishing with:
35 points
13 rebounds
6 assists
3 steals
6 blocks
1 turnover
3 fouls
The crowd lost their minds, showering him with cheers.
"The Golden Tyrant's personal showcase!" The New York Times praised him the next day with a front-page feature.
On August 15, the Asian Championships wrapped up with China securing the championship without a hitch. With the win, they locked in their ticket to next year's World Championships.
Zhao Dong and Lindsay didn't fly back with the team. Instead, they jetted off to Europe for a getaway.
"Happy birthday, Eve!" Zhao Dong said on August 16, handing Lindsay a box of luxury Swiss chocolates.
Today was her 19th birthday, and they had officially been together for two months.
"Thank you! I love it," Lindsay gushed, flashing a smile that made Zhao Dong's heart skip a beat.
---
From Riyadh, they flew to Switzerland to discuss business with Mrs. Dolores and squeeze in some sightseeing.
"Zhao Dong, welcome to Switzerland," Mrs. Dolores greeted them warmly at the airport, alongside her husband John Houston.
"Thanks for picking us up," Zhao Dong smiled, shaking their hands.
While Zhao Dong and John caught up, Mrs. Dolores pulled Lindsay aside, her expression full of maternal concern.
"Avel, how are you holding up in China?" she asked softly, using Lindsay's middle name.
"Very well, ma'am," Lindsay smiled brightly.
Mrs. Dolores lowered her voice. "And you and Zhao Dong…?"
Lindsay blushed slightly. "I've agreed to be his girlfriend," she admitted shyly.
Mrs. Dolores was momentarily startled but not surprised. She leaned in and whispered, "Zhao Dong's a good man, but don't forget your values, sweetheart. No matter what, stay true to yourself."
"Got it, ma'am," Lindsay whispered back.
"Good girl. I wish you both endless happiness," Mrs. Dolores smiled warmly.
---
Zhao Dong and Lindsay stayed at Mrs. Dolores estate instead of a hotel.
During dinner, Zhao Dong brought up his proposal for a financial investment fund, outlining his vision with precision.
"I believe the tech boom will fuel a long-term bull market on Wall Street. The Asian financial crisis is just the start. The US market is about to skyrocket," he declared confidently.
Mrs. Dolores raised a skeptical brow. "You think the Nasdaq will keep climbing? It's already up 9% since March."
Zhao Dong nodded firmly. "As long as the tech industry keeps burning cash, the market will run hot. This could be the start of a massive bull run. That 9% rise? It's just a warm-up."
His conviction, combined with the near $100 million in profits Mrs. Dolores and her husband had made thanks to Zhao Dong's earlier guidance, convinced them. They agreed to form the fund.
Storm Financial Investment Fund was officially established with:
Zhao Dong: $15 million (45% shares)
Lindsay: $5 million (15%)
Mrs. Dolores: $5 million (15%)
John Houston: $5 million (15%)
Remaining 10%: Open for strategic investors
Lindsay was appointed General Manager, and the headquarters was set up on Wall Street in New York.
After Switzerland, they flew to Spain for a short visit.
Lindsay wanted to retrieve her mother's ashes from her late father's estate. Though the castle was her father's property, Lindsay only cared about one thing—her mom's memory.
With Zhao Dong by her side, she finally laid the past to rest. She gathered her mother's ashes, determined to bring her back to China and bury her alongside her grandparents.
For Lindsay, this trip was closure. The chapter on her past life was over.
---
On August 21, they returned to Beijing.
Zhao Dong had arranged everything in advance—he had already purchased a burial plot in Chaoyang Cemetery. With reverence, they laid Lindsay's mother to rest, closing the final chapter of her sorrowful past.
Lindsay clung to Zhao Dong tightly, leaning on him for support.
"I'm here. Always," Zhao Dong whispered, holding her close.
At that moment, he knew—he wasn't just her boyfriend. He was her family.
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