The 2013 NBA Free Agency Market.

After hearing Han Sen's plans, Chris Wallace took a long moment to compose himself.

He had considered every possibility—except this one.

Finally, Wallace let out a deep breath. "I respect your decision," he said.

Han Sen hadn't just brought the Grizzlies their first championship; he followed it up with a second and possibly a third on the way.

From any perspective, Han owed the Grizzlies nothing.

Wallace's trade to acquire Han was already cemented in history, a contender for one of the greatest trades of all time.

And he understood Han's reasoning. As the team's GM, Wallace was well aware of the ownership's unwillingness to invest in the future. Despite sponsorships from several major corporations, management remained shortsighted, focused only on immediate profits.

Last season, there had even been discussions about trading Zach Randolph—talk that only died down after Randolph's stellar pre-All-Star performance.

This season, whispers of trading Rudy Gay were growing louder. Gay's contract was now considered an overpay relative to his production.

Wallace knew that if the Grizzlies' dynasty dreams were derailed by such moves, Han's personality wouldn't allow him to stay. He'd undoubtedly request a trade.

In that sense, Han's current decision might be the only way to resolve the impasse.

But as the man who had brought Han to Memphis, Wallace couldn't help but feel a bittersweet pang, knowing Han's departure was inevitable.

Being a GM might seem like holding the reins, but in reality, it was often just executing the ownership's will.

After Wallace left, Han opened his social media accounts.

During their conversation, he'd noticed his [Hater Points] steadily increasing.

Curious, he scrolled through the comments. When he read the posts, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Dynasty? Dream on! If DW (Dwyane Wade) hadn't gotten injured, you wouldn't have repeated this year!"

Good thing I watched the games, or I'd think the Heat were winning Game 5 before Wade went down.

"CP3 got hurt, DW got hurt. You're just lucky. Luck doesn't last forever!"

But if Rudy hadn't been injured in the 2011 playoffs, wouldn't the Grizzlies already have a dynasty?

"Watch, the Grizzlies are trading Gay this summer to cut salary. Let's see how you build a dynasty then!"

Want to bet $50? If you don't have that, maybe look for a job.

"I can't wait for free agency this year. Love watching the Grizzlies fall apart!"

Me too. But what if LeBron gets traded again? Real nomad vibes, huh?

This year's Finals had been a lose-lose for LeBron fans. Now that they had an outlet for their frustrations, they were targeting Han.

But thanks to Han's growing fanbase, a counterforce had emerged, turning the internet into a battleground between supporters and detractors. The clash only fueled Han's [Hater Points] further.

A few days later, the Grizzlies held a massive championship parade.

Memphis' streets were packed once again, fans just as passionate as they had been the year before.

The key difference this year? No gun violence marred the celebration, making it far more peaceful.

As a result, the crowd outside FedExForum swelled to unprecedented levels, creating a visually stunning scene.

To outsiders, it looked less like a parade and more like a presidential rally.

This year, Han Sen, not coach Dave Joerger, delivered the main speech.

"Robert Sacre is our MVP. If the day ever comes when he stops waving that towel on the bench, I'll lose half my love for the game."

"Everyone knows what Dahntay Jones brings to the table."

"I talked to Shane Battier—he's not retiring yet. Next season, we'll still have 'The President.'"

"No one truly understands what Rudy Gay sacrificed. When coach asked who'd come off the bench to battle the Heat, he said, 'I'll do it.'"

Han's words were met with cheers and whistles, his charisma keeping the crowd energized.

"We've completed two-thirds of the journey. Let's finish the last third!"

When Han echoed his Finals MVP speech with added intensity, the crowd's roar reached a deafening crescendo.

This wasn't Chicago or Los Angeles—big-city dynasties.

This was Memphis, a small-market team crafting its own legend, one still unfolding.

...

The day after the parade, Scarlett arrived in Memphis.

From the moment they saw each other, their passion ignited, consuming every room in Han's home—from the doorway to the bed, the balcony to the bathroom.

As they lay in bed, Scarlett sat up and began gathering her clothes. Han, still lounging with a cigar in hand, watched her with a faint smile.

She struggled with the zipper on her dress, and without a word, Han got up to help her. His fingers worked the zipper slowly, the room filling with a comfortable silence.

Once zipped up, Scarlett turned to face him, her eyes searching his. She leaned in for a lingering kiss, soft and full of something deeper.

"I met someone recently," she said, breaking the quiet. "A Frenchman. His name's Romain. He's... kind to me."

Han raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

She hesitated, then asked, "Have you ever thought about getting married?"

Han blinked, taken aback. Marriage? That wasn't a question he'd expected—at least, not from her.

"Honestly?" he said, buying time as he sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Not really. It's... not something I've thought about much."

Scarlett nodded, her expression calm but tinged with something he couldn't quite place.

At age 24—25 in December—marriage wasn't on his radar, not by Chinese or American standards.

But when a woman, especially one you've been intimate with, asks that question, it often means: Do you want to marry me?

Scarlett, at 29, had already been married before—to Ryan Reynolds in 2008. That marriage ended after two years.

For Scarlett, this was more than casual affection. Over time, her feelings had deepened, and she wanted more.

Han admired Scarlett—not just their chemistry but also her forthrightness and passion.

But marry her? No.

Not because of her past but because he didn't want a wife who was an actress.

He couldn't accept seeing his spouse kiss other men onscreen—or, worse, fully bare herself for roles like Scarlett had in Under the Skin.

"Look, Scar," Han started, his voice softer now. "You're amazing. You really are. But I don't think marriage is in the cards for me right now. And... if I'm being honest, I don't think I'd make a great husband for someone in your world."

She tilted her head, studying him. "Because I'm an actress?"

Han didn't answer right away, which was answer enough.

"I get it," she said, finally breaking the silence. Her voice was steady, but there was a slight crack at the edges. "I really do."

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You deserve someone who can give you everything, Scar. And... that's not me. Not the way you want it to be."

Scarlett gave him a small, bittersweet smile. "You know what? You're probably right."

The drive to drop her off was quiet, both of them lost in their thoughts.

When they arrived, Scarlett leaned in for one last kiss. This time, it was slower, more deliberate—a goodbye.

As she pulled back, she looked him in the eye and said, "When you find someone you'd marry, Han, don't wait. Don't let her slip away."

Han nodded, watching as she stepped out of the car and walked away. He stayed parked for a moment longer, her words lingering in the air.

...

The 2012–2013 NBA season had come to a close, and the 2013 NBA Draft was just around the corner.

The Grizzlies, however, didn't have much to do with this year's draft, having traded away their first-round pick to the 76ers in an earlier deal.

But before the draft began, Han Sen came across an intriguing piece of news: the Cavaliers had fired their GM, Chris Grant, and promoted David Griffin to take his place.

Han thought well of Griffin. Over the past two years, Griffin had always texted congratulations after championship wins. Seeing the news, Han shot Griffin a message to congratulate him.

Afterward, a random thought struck him.

In his memory, the Cavs picked Anthony Bennett with the first overall pick in 2013—but that was before Griffin became GM. Could this change in management trigger a new domino effect?

Curious, Han decided to tune in to the draft broadcast on draft day.

When David Stern took the stage, the crowd's familiar boos rang out—only louder than usual this time. It took quite a while for the crowd to settle down before Stern could speak.

This was Stern's final draft as commissioner, as he was set to retire in February of the following year. His successor, Adam Silver, had been Stern's right-hand man for years.

The Cavaliers had the first pick—their second first overall selection in three years. Han remembered they'd have another one next year, too.

In hindsight, LeBron's departure from Cleveland hadn't just left them with mediocre draft picks. It left them with three first overall picks. Stern was a generous man.

"With the first pick in the 2013 NBA Draft, the Cleveland Cavaliers select Nerlens Noel, a 6'11" center from the University of Kentucky."

Han raised an eyebrow. The pick was surprising, yet not entirely unexpected.

This year's draft class was notoriously weak, rivaling the infamous 2000 draft.

Noel had been a projected first overall pick before suffering a torn ACL in February, which clouded his draft stock. Still, Griffin's first big move as GM was a gamble.

Draft decisions reflect the GM's style, and while Han, with his 'inside knowledge,' knew Noel's injury issues would plague his career, this pick was undeniably better than selecting Anthony Bennett.

Given Cleveland's roster, they didn't need another guard, ruling out Victor Oladipo. Noel, despite the risks, was a logical choice.

Han continued watching through the first round and couldn't help but marvel at the Thunder's savvy moves. Late in the first round, they snagged both Andre Roberson and Rudy Gobert.

"If only their trades weren't so terrible," Han thought. "I'd swear Sam Presti is a time traveler like me."

Still, Presti's upcoming summer wouldn't be easy. With free agency looming, he was about to face some tough decisions.

July arrived, and with it, the opening of free agency. As the frenzy began, news flooded in, and Han was at the center of it all.

As a restricted free agent, Han received max contract offers from over a dozen teams the moment free agency opened—including his old team, the Cavaliers.

But those offers didn't mean much. Han qualified for the 'Rose Rule,' allowing only his current team, the Grizzlies, to offer him a supermax deal.

By the afternoon, Grizzlies GM Chris Wallace posted a picture of Han signing a five-year, $95 million supermax contract on social media.

The deal was tied to the league's salary cap, which had remained relatively stable in recent seasons, and included a player option for the fourth year, 2017, as per the updated CBA.

With Han's future settled, free agency moved on to its next big targets: Dwight Howard and Chris Paul.

ESPN had recently published an article by Brian Windhorst detailing LeBron's desire to team up with one of the two.

It was clear that after a season unworthy of a Nike flagship star, LeBron was desperate to build a new Big Three, especially with Kevin Durant breathing down his neck.

Durant had claimed the MVP and dominated in the Finals, making the Heat's failure to win the title even more glaring. If LeBron didn't act fast, his 2014 Nike contract renewal might become a problem.

But LeBron's plans quickly fell apart.

Dwight Howard re-signed with the Nets for five years and $112 million. After Brooklyn replaced Avery Johnson with Lionel Hollins, Howard's role had grown significantly. Though the Nets fell to the Pacers in the semifinals, Howard prioritized his happiness—something Brooklyn offered in spades.

Howard's decision wasn't shocking. He and LeBron weren't particularly close, and their only shared trait was their complicated relationship with the word 'loyalty.'

Chris Paul's move, however, left LeBron reeling.

Paul signed a five-year, $107 million deal with the Lakers but was immediately traded to the Rockets. In exchange, the Lakers received Jeremy Lin, Chandler Parsons, two future second-round picks, and a $15 million trade exception.

The trade was driven by Paul's personal desire to leave. His two years in Los Angeles had been disappointing, and playing alongside Kobe Bryant came with immense pressure.

As a free agent, Paul held all the cards. His trade brought the Lakers a solid return compared to how LeBron left Cleveland years ago.

But for LeBron, this was a disaster.

If Paul wanted out of L.A., why not go to the Thunder? Paul could have been the key to convincing OKC to trade Russell Westbrook, a move that would have benefited all parties involved.

Instead, Paul's decision highlighted just how strained his relationship with LeBron was. Despite their public camaraderie, Paul had no interest in joining forces with him.

Paul's choice to prioritize his own game, avoiding the fallout that plagued players like Dwyane Wade and Westbrook after teaming up with LeBron, made his stance clear.

As free agency unfolded, LeBron looked around and realized something unsettling: nobody wanted to team up with him anymore.