Chapter 157

"Eve (nickname)? Wait, you guys?"

Ms. Dolores looked at Zhao Dong, completely stunned. She got up from the couch, eyes locked on him in shock.

"My bad."

She walked over, nodded at Zhao Dong, then pulled Lindsay aside, lowering her voice. "Avel, sweetheart, spill it. How far have you two gone?"

Lindsay's face turned red. She spoke softly, "Ma'am, we're just really close friends, like you and Mom."

Dolores studied her carefully before letting out a breath. "Listen, darling, you gotta follow the doctrine. That's how you find real happiness. No man values a woman who gives it up too easy."

"I understand, ma'am," Lindsay nodded.

Dolores' eyes shifted to the bags in their hands. "And this? What's all this?"

"Oh, Zhao Dong said he can throw down in the kitchen, so we're making our own dinner," Lindsay explained.

Dolores nodded, then turned to Zhao Dong, extending a hand. "Mr. Zhao Dong, I hope I'm not disturbing?"

"Uh, hello, Mrs. Doris. Sorry for dropping in like this," Zhao Dong said quickly.

"Please, take a seat."

"Thanks."

"I'll take these to the kitchen."

Lindsay grabbed the bags from Zhao Dong and disappeared into the kitchen.

Once she was gone, Dolores turned to him, her gaze sharp. "Mr. Zhao Dong, what exactly do you think of Lindsay? I need to know."

Zhao Dong leaned back. "Honestly? We're in the same boat. No family here, just figuring things out alone. Lindsay makes me feel at home. She's easy to talk to, and we just click."

Dolores stared at him, her presence heavy. After a moment, she asked, "Do you know about Lindsay's past?"

"Yeah. She told me everything," Zhao Dong said.

Dolores froze. She had only asked to test him. She hadn't expected Lindsay to actually open up to this guy.

"Mr. Zhao Dong, Lindsay's been through a lot. She's fragile, struggles with self-worth, and doesn't have many people to lean on. I need you to be a real man and not hurt her."

Her words were firm and sincere.

"Of course. Like I said, she feels like family. We Chinese take family seriously—plus, Lindsay's got Chinese blood too." Zhao Dong grinned.

Dolores nodded but kept going. "Also, respect her faith. It's kept her grounded all these years."

"Of course," Zhao Dong said easily.

"Avel, quit hiding and get out here," Dolores called out.

"I'm not hiding! I'm just tidying up!" Lindsay protested from the kitchen.

Dolores smirked. "She avoids conflict like the plague. It's how she protects herself."

She turned back to Zhao Dong, giving him one last serious look before Lindsay came out.

As they sat down, their conversation shifted to investments. Dolores, sharp as ever, grilled Zhao Dong about his foreign exchange moves.

She was surprised—no, impressed. This guy had milked Ethereum short-selling for every cent. If his leverage had been higher, his profits would've been through the roof.

"Taiwan hasn't done squat for its real economy or real estate sector. No policies for the financial market either. If they don't step up, they're walking straight into a crisis," Zhao Dong said.

Dolores tapped a manicured nail on the table. "Thailand's financial market isn't an isolated issue. A small country like that can't handle international sharks bleeding them dry. The economy there thrives on imports and exports—this crisis isn't just their problem. It's a ticking time bomb."

Zhao Dong leaned in. "So, what's your play?"

"Soros' Quantum Fund is behind this. Those guys leverage up to a thousand times their capital. If you wanna get a piece of the action, you better be slick. Otherwise, they'll eat you alive. Tell your broker to move in the shadows—don't draw attention," she warned.

"Noted. Appreciate the heads-up."

"Thailand's currency is still pegged to the US dollar, but if they don't fix this mess, that peg won't last."

Dolores eyed him carefully. She and her people had already thought about this, but they weren't sure if Thailand would actually pull the trigger on de-pegging. Either way, a financial crisis was inevitable.

Opportunity and disaster—two sides of the same coin.

Seeing Zhao Dong's potential, she personally offered to manage his Swiss Bank foreign exchange account. He'd get top-tier wealth management, insider-level info, and security most people could only dream of. Normally, he wouldn't even qualify for this level of service.

By 4 PM, Dolores left, but not before giving Lindsay one last reminder:

"Sweetheart, I don't care how close you two get. Stick to your values. Don't cross the line."

After she was gone, Zhao Dong smirked while chopping vegetables. "Avel, did she come all this way just for that?"

"She had business. Swiss Bank has a branch in New York, and she had work to handle there too," Lindsay replied, setting the table.

After a beat, she added, "Zhao Dong, having your account managed by Madam Dolores is a big deal. Your money's safer there than in any American bank. No way Soros or his people can sniff it out. Plus, tax-wise? You're golden."

"Yeah, I figured." Zhao Dong grinned.

His plan was simple: stash two-thirds of his money—about $20 million—in the Swiss bank and leave the rest in his American account for trading.

For dinner, he went all out: shredded pork with Beijing sauce, braised sea cucumber, Four-Happiness meatballs, Beijing-style bean paste, five-spice fish, and seaweed soup.

By 6 PM, the whole place smelled amazing.

"Avel, these are classic Beijing dishes. Your mom probably had them before. Try them and let me know what you think."

He'd been a chef in his past life. Nothing crazy, but good enough to impress.

"Wow! This is insane! Zhao Dong, can you cook for me again sometime?"

"Of course."

Lindsay tasted each dish, looking completely blissed out. Zhao Dong started feeling himself—maybe his skills were actually elite.

Then he took a bite.

...Nope. Still just above average. Not quite top-tier chef level, but good enough.

After dinner, they kicked back and watched Game 2 of the Jazz vs. Mavericks.

Before they knew it, time had flown by.

Final Score: 92-104. The Jazz secured their second home win, extending their streak to two straight victories.

By the time the game wrapped up, it was almost eleven. Zhao Dong hopped into Lindsay's Mercedes SUV and cruised back to the hotel.

May 22 – Eastern Conference Finals, Game 2

At seven in the evening, Zhao Dong got a call from Lindsay. He headed down to the underground parking lot to pick her and Mrs. Dolores up.

Mrs. Dolores brought some documents with her—his UBS accounts were now officially set up. Not just one, but ten accounts in total. One was a top-tier private management account, while the rest were standard capital accounts, all prepped for some serious foreign exchange moves.

Madison Square Garden

The second Zhao Dong and his crew stepped into the arena, the media swarmed in.

"Zhao Dong! Do you guarantee a W in Game 2?"

"Ms. Lindsay, what noble family are you from?"

Before Zhao Dong could even react, Lindsay—who usually dodged the press like a pro—actually responded this time.

"I'm sorry, everyone, but I'm just a regular person, not a noble. You've done your research, so stop bothering me."

She was done with the attention. Back at school, nobody even noticed her, but now? Paparazzi everywhere. On top of that, agents kept hitting her up, pushing her to jump into entertainment and modeling. It was a waste of her time.

But the reporters? They weren't buying it.

"No way she ain't a noble!"

Americans had always admired the European aristocracy—probably because a lot of their ancestors were nobodies in Europe.

Starting Lineups

Chicago Bulls:

Luc Longley

Dennis Rodman

Scottie Pippen

Michael Jordan

Ron Harper

New York Knicks:

Patrick Ewing

Charles Oakley

Zhao Dong

Allan Houston

Charlie Ward

"Same starting five as Game 1." Matt Goukas broke it down on NBC Live.

Marv Albert added, "Both teams were on fire offensively in Game 1. The Knicks won with team basketball, but Jordan? He was unstoppable. This time around, expect a much more physical game. Defense is gonna be key."

Tonight, NBC brought in a special guest—Shaquille O'Neal.

Big Diesel grinned. "Man, last game was soft. No cheap shots, no real physicality. This one? It's gonna get rough."

Goukas laughed. "The Bulls and Knicks don't play dirty—unless things pop off. But you can bet on some serious elbow action. Chicago's not about to go down 0-2 in the East Finals."

Meanwhile, over on CCTV Live, Zhang Heli had a different take.

"The Knicks HAVE to lock Jordan down. He dropped way too many points last time—almost single-handedly stole the game."

"Yeah," Sun Zhenping nodded. "If Zhao Dong hadn't gone off, the Knicks would've been toast."

Zhang Heli chuckled. "Speaking of Zhao Dong, he's been hanging with Lindsay a lot lately. You think they're a thing?"

Sun Zhenping grinned. "That girl's got class. Good-looking, tall—what is she, like 5'11"? Makes sense. They'd be a solid match."

Zhang He agreed. "I mean, dude never brought a girl to MSG before. Now Lindsay's been courtside twice? Yeah, something's up."

Bulls Locker Room

Phil Jackson laid out the game plan, going over the defensive scheme one last time.

"Alright, let's run it back. Here's how we handle Zhao Dong."

Let him shoot. Encourage him to take outside shots—no double-teams out there. Everyone else? Stick tight to your man, no easy passes.

If he drives? Trap him. The second he gets past the perimeter, throw the double at him. Don't give him an easy lane or passing options. Pip, you stay aggressive. Force turnovers.

If he gets inside? All bets are off. We swarm. Triple, quadruple-team if we have to.

The room went silent for a second.

"Wait… This is the Jordan Rule."

All eyes shifted to MJ.

Jordan's face was dead serious. He knew this defense too well. It was the same brutal strategy Detroit had used against him.

And now? They were running it on Zhao Dong.

Phil Jackson shook his head and said, "That's only half of Jordan's rule. We only run this kind of extreme defense in the paint and on the perimeter."

"The second part of the strategy is locking up Zhao Dong one-on-one, then shutting down his teammates," he continued.

It was still Jordan's Rule—if you can't stop him, you make sure his teammates don't do anything either.

After that, Phil Jackson went over the offensive strategy, focusing on the small forward matchup. He turned to Pippen. "Scottie, don't try to overpower Zhao Dong. Use the triangle offense, keep moving, and keep him chasing you. He might be faster and more athletic, but you can create space with constant motion. Your teammates will set screens, and you can use them to wear him out."

Pre-Game Trash Talk

"Jordan, how many points you dropping on us tonight?" Zhao Dong smirked when the starting lineups met.

"Kid, let's put some money on it," Jordan said coldly.

"Bet. A million per game. Deal?"

Zhao Dong wasn't about to back down.

The visiting team hit the floor to a wave of boos, while the home team waited for their entrance.

"Kid, how much did Wells make for you? You betting crazy money out here," Oakley muttered.

"Not bad. Pulled in around five million in endorsements this season," Zhao Dong replied casually.

"Man, what the hell? I ain't made that much in my whole career," Oakley cursed and looked around. "What about you guys?"

"Shoe contracts don't count. I got nothing," Ewing said.

"Including my sneaker deal, I barely make a few hundred thousand off the court," Allan Houston added.

"Bro, I don't have a single dollar in endorsements," Charlie Ward said, looking at Zhao Dong enviously.

Zhao Dong laughed. "What can I say? Good looks, good image, and fans love me. If I win a ring and average a triple-double, my market value is gonna double. Y'all jealous?"

"Man, shut up!"

"Zhao, you tryna get smacked?"

The locker room burst into laughter, and the four other Knicks starters all flipped him off.

"You still haven't signed a sneaker deal?" Oakley asked.

"No rush," Zhao Dong replied with a grin.

"Tsk, tsk." Oakley shook his head.

Most players in the league didn't even get paid for wearing sneakers—just got free shoes. A handful of stars landed small endorsement deals. But only about ten players in the league had their own signature shoe lines.

Zhao Dong was already at that level, looking at a deal worth tens of millions. And this dude still wasn't in a hurry to sign.

Madison Square Garden Erupts

The home team stepped onto the court, and Madison Square Garden exploded in cheers.

The Knicks had taken Game 1 against the Bulls, and despite Jordan's insane 69-point game, they still won. The fans were going crazy, and the championship hype was real.

Zhao Dong, the guy who just put up his fifth triple-double, was now unquestionably the heart of the team.

If Ewing tried to reclaim the top-dog spot now, the fans probably wouldn't accept it.

"Tonight, we're taking another one!" Zhao Dong shouted into the mic, hyping up the crowd.

"WINNING STREAK! WINNING STREAK! WINNING STREAK!"

MSG was shaking.

Game Tip-Off

"Avel, Zhao Dong is huge here," Mrs. Doissa whispered to Lindsay on the sidelines.

"Uh-huh!" Lindsay nodded, smiling with squinted eyes.

The game started, and Zhao Dong won the tip. Knicks' ball.

On the left-wing three-point line, Pippen backed off, not pressing Zhao Dong tight.

Zhao Dong took the ball, drove toward Pippen, and as soon as he hit the three-point line, Pippen ramped up his defense to another level—playing him physical, straight-up dirty.

"Hss!"

Zhao Dong felt a sharp pain in his side—Pippen had just pinched his ribs.

"Damn!"

Distracted for a split second, Zhao Dong lost control, and Pippen knocked the ball loose.

"Turnover! Pippen steals it! Bulls on the break!" Marv Albert shouted.

Pippen led the fast break, but Zhao Dong, being quicker, caught up and bumped him. Off balance, Pippen dished it to Jordan on the left wing.

Jordan caught it, exploded to the rim, and Zhao Dong came flying in from the opposite side, just a step behind.

Jordan took off first, soaring toward the basket.

Zhao Dong launched himself too, arm extended for the block.

Jordan went up with both hands for a dunk—but mid-air, he pulled the ball back, gliding past Zhao Dong and under the basket.

"F***!"

Zhao Dong landed, watching Jordan still floating.

He had elite core strength, but Jordan's hangtime was on another level.

And unlike Shawn Kemp, who had that insane second-jump ability, Zhao Dong couldn't recover in time.

"BOOM!"

Jordan, still airborne, switched to his right hand and threw down a reverse dunk.

"Kid, better have that check ready for me," Jordan smirked.

"Man, I already deposited your check in my account. You're making me money way too easy," Zhao Dong shot back.

Jordan scowled. That $1.3 million he owed Zhao Dong? That was four days' worth of his salary—gone.

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