NBA: Northeast China's spectacular dunks sweep the entire league.

The night Lin Hao flew back to Oakland from Houston, old Nelson called.

"What exactly did he say?"

Lin Hao tossed his suitcase at the apartment entrance, took off his shoes with one hand, and held up his phone with the other: "He said he'd consider it for three days. Today is the first day."

"Three days?" Old Nelson's voice suddenly rose. "I can't wait three days! Tomorrow I'll have the lawyer draft a contract, clearly stating the transfer of power, giving him whatever power he wants. The day after tomorrow, you take the file and slap it in front of him, let's see what he has to say then."

Lin Hao kicked off his other shoe and walked barefoot into the living room: "Grandpa, what's the rush? He said three days, so we'll wait three days. Rushing things too much is not good."

"I'm not in a hurry, I'm just—" Old Nelson paused, lowering his voice, "I'm afraid that kid Van Gundy will cause trouble. He's known Thibodeau for so many years, what if he suddenly realizes his mistake and promotes Thibodeau and gives him a raise, then all our efforts will have been for nothing."

Lin Hao thought about it and realized it was indeed a risk. But he didn't show it, only saying, "You fill out the file first tomorrow, and I'll take a look when you're done."

After hanging up the phone, Lin Hao took a shower and lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. He picked up his phone and opened his chat with Thibodeau. The last message was still Thibodeau's "I'll think about it" from yesterday. He didn't send a new message, turned off the phone screen, and closed his eyes.

The next morning, as soon as Lin Hao arrived at the training hall, Old Nelson pulled him into his office.

Three sheets of paper lay spread out on the desk, covered in dense writing. Old Nelson pushed the papers in front of Lin Hao, hands on his hips, a cigar dangling from his lips, a "take a look" expression on his face.

Lin Hao picked it up and read it line by line.

The document is titled "Confirmation of Defensive Coach's Authority and Responsibilities." The main text consists of five clauses:

Article 1: Defensive Tactical Decision-Making Authority. Tom Thibodeau has full authority over the Warriors' defensive system design, defensive tactical selection, and defensive rotation arrangements. Head Coach Don Nelson and no member of the coaching staff may change defensive tactical arrangements without Thibodeau's consent.

Article 2. Training Management Authority. Tom Thibodeau has the authority to formulate, implement, and supervise defensive training plans. He has the right to adjust the intensity, duration, and content of training based on player condition. No player may refuse or reduce defensive training sessions arranged by Thibodeau for any reason.

Article 3. On-field command authority. During the game, Thibodeau has the authority to directly issue instructions to the players on the court regarding matters such as adjustments to defensive strategies, changes in defensive matchups, and the timing of defensive timeouts. The head coach may not override his decisions on the defensive end.

Article 4. Right to Make Personnel Advisory Decisions. Thibodeau has the right to submit written recommendations to management regarding player trades, signings, and waivers related to the team's defense. Management should provide a written response within a reasonable timeframe.

Article 5. Liability for Breach of Contract. The above clauses shall take effect from the date of signing. If either party breaches the contract, the non-breaching party shall have the right to immediately terminate the contract and demand that the breaching party pay the full amount of the remaining contract value as compensation.

Below these five main points, old Nelson added another line in his appallingly ugly handwriting:

"I voluntarily agree to abide by the above terms and will not renege on them. If I violate them, Lin Hao may dismiss me from my position as head coach at any time. — Don Nelson"

Lin Hao looked at the last line of text, and the corners of his mouth slowly turned up.

"Old man, that's a bit of a stretch. Dismiss you? I'm not the boss."

Old Nelson scoffed, "You're not the boss, but your word carries more weight than his. Mullin listens to you, the players listen to you, and I listen to you. This isn't written for you; it's for him. Let him know that if he's willing to risk my job, what else can't he trust?"

Lin Hao folded the file and put it into a kraft paper envelope.

"I'm flying to Houston tomorrow morning."

Old Nelson patted him on the shoulder: "Tell him the Warriors' door is open, and they're waiting for him to come in."

The next morning, Lin Hao appeared again in the lobby coffee shop of the InterContinental Houston Hotel.

It was the same corner seat, the same two cups of black coffee, no sugar, no milk. Lin Hao was wearing similar clothes to when they first met—a black hoodie, jeans, and sneakers. The difference was that he was now carrying a heavy manila envelope containing the power transfer document that Old Nelson had signed overnight.

At exactly nine o'clock, Thibodeau pushed open the door and came in.

He was wearing a white shirt, black trousers, and brown leather shoes today. He looked more formal than the previous two times, as if he had prepared specifically for something.

Thibodeau sat down, glanced at the steaming coffee on the table, picked it up and took a sip. He put it down, his gaze falling on the envelope beside Lin Hao.

"What is that?"

"Here's what you wanted." Lin Hao pushed the envelope to the center of the table. "It's in black and white, the old man signed it. You can look at it, you can be dissatisfied, you can revise it. Revise it until you're satisfied."

Sibodu glanced at Lin Hao, picked up the envelope, opened it, pulled out the three pages inside, and read them one by one.

He read slowly. His gaze moved from the first line to the last, scrutinizing every single word. When he reached the third line, his eyebrows twitched slightly. When he reached the fifth line, he paused for a few seconds. When he read the line written by old Nelson, he lightly pressed his finger on the paper, as if to confirm that the words were written in ink and not printed.

After reading the last word, Sibodu aligned the three pages on the table and put them back in the envelope.

He didn't say anything, but picked up his coffee and took another sip.

Lin Hao didn't urge him. The two of them just sat there, the jazz music in the coffee shop changing one song after another.

About five minutes later, Thibodeau spoke.

"This last line," he pushed the envelope slightly towards Lin Hao, "'Lin Hao can dismiss me from my head coach position at any time,' was that added by Old Nelson himself?"

"Yes. He said he was afraid you wouldn't believe his sincerity."

Thibodeau remained silent for a moment.

"During my five years with the Rockets, Van Gundy never wrote anything like this. The words 'defensive coach' never even appeared in my contract."

He paused, his voice lowering: "My job description says, 'Assist the head coach in completing training and match-related work.' 'Assist.' For five years, it's always been that word."

Lin Hao did not respond.

Thibodeau picked up the envelope and put it into his briefcase. The movement was natural, as if it had been his for a long time.

Lin Hao watched him put the envelope away, his heart skipped a beat, but his face remained expressionless.

"Regarding the penalty for breach of contract," Thibodeau looked up, "how much have you prepared?"

How many do you want?

"It's not about what I want. It's about how much Van Gundy will ask for," Thibodeau said calmly. "The Rockets won't let me go easily. The buyout clause is $500,000, but if Van Gundy holds firm, he'll raise the price to two million. Have you thought it through?"

"The old man said he'd give it all, even if it meant going bankrupt."

Thibodeau looked into Lin Hao's eyes for a full five seconds, then nodded.

"OK."

One word.