After defeating the Thunder, the Kings pushed their record even higher, climbing to third place in the Western Conference.
Still sitting just ahead of them in second were the San Antonio Spurs—the biggest winners of the offseason.
This year's Spurs might just be the strongest roster in franchise history on paper.
They still had the formidable "GDP" trio, now joined by the newly formed "Double-D" combination of Kawhi Leonard and LaMarcus Aldridge. Off the bench, they boasted talents like David West, Danny Green, and Patty Mills.
At the top of the standings were the Golden State Warriors, unstoppable from the very start of the season.
Fresh off last year's championship, the Splash Brothers had entered their true peak.
The Warriors opened the season with a stunning 24-game winning streak and have lost only five games so far, mowing down nearly every opponent in their path. Many fans were already imagining whether this year's Warriors could challenge that long-standing record set by the basketball god himself.
"Golden State won again. Looks like this year they really might break the 72-win record."
In a Sacramento breakfast diner, Malone held up a newspaper, reading with great interest and letting out the occasional sigh of amazement.
This had become a routine for him and Chen Yilun. Whenever they weren't too busy, the two would come here for breakfast together. Partly to build camaraderie, partly to have some private time to discuss the team's direction.
"Unless something unexpected happens, that record's as good as gone."
Chen Yilun grabbed the pepper shaker from the table, sprinkled some over his scrambled eggs, and dug in.
Sure, most of the food around here just wasn't to his taste, but he actually liked the breakfast at this place. Especially their bacon with scrambled eggs—it even had that wok-fried aroma.
The first time he tried it, Chen Yilun was so moved he nearly cried. Finally, something that actually tasted good to him.
"You're that confident?"
Malone looked at him with a hint of doubt.
For the Warriors to surpass the Bulls' record, they'd need at least 73 wins. With just a third of the season left, their margin for error was razor-thin.
"The Warriors' strength is one part of it."
Chen Yilun swallowed his eggs, took a sip of coffee to rinse his mouth, then continued. "Adam Silver's intentions are another."
That caught Malone's interest.
"You're saying Silver's going to give the Warriors a free pass?"
"I never said that!" Chen Yilun quickly waved his hands. "You can't just throw around words like that."
Malone had almost baited him into a trap—saying something like that outright would get him roasted.
"Then what exactly did you mean?"
As the saying goes, the tree wants stillness but the wind won't cease. Malone clearly wasn't letting the subject drop.
Seeing no way out, Chen Yilun gave a wry smile and explained.
"Ever since Silver took over, he's been dying to measure himself against his Master."
David Stern, the greatest commissioner in NBA history, had made contributions that spoke for themselves. As his disciple and successor, Adam Silver had always wanted to outdo his Master.
"What were Stern's greatest achievements?"
Chen Yilun set down his fork, counting them off. "The Four Great Centers, the Four Great Shooting Guards, the God of Basketball, global market expansion, the '96 and '03 golden generations."
"All of that weighs heavily on Silver's shoulders. If he wants to surpass his Master, he has to do something different."
He picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth.
"Look at the 2014 draft class. Under Silver's guidance, it was hyped up to rival 2003's."
"Now, with the Warriors on the rise, I'd bet at certain moments when it doesn't matter much, Silver won't hesitate to give them a little push."
"Records like this are never achieved on talent alone. Timing, circumstance, and chemistry all have to align."
Leaning back in his chair, Chen Yilun half-reclined as he spoke.
"Raw talent, a relatively healthy season, no interference from the higher-ups—so many factors all need to come together in a single season to make history."
It wasn't that he was being a hater; he was simply stating the truth.
Achievements like this—unprecedented and nearly impossible to repeat—always involve an element of luck.
"So you're saying our playoff run's going to be rough again this year?"
Malone frowned after hearing his explanation.
Barring surprises, the Kings should secure a top-four seed in the West if they stayed on track. But that also meant that to go deeper, they'd almost certainly have to face either the Spurs or the Warriors.
"It's going to be tough."
Chen Yilun sounded helpless. Their rise just happened to come at the worst possible time—the Western Conference was at its fiercest.
Pulling off an upset in this environment? Easier said than done.
But neither he nor the Kings had time to waste. After this season, their salary cap would almost certainly be locked. Only by delivering a strong record this year could they establish themselves firmly among the Western Conference elites.
"That's why I told you to build two systems."
Chen Yilun finished the last of his coffee in one gulp.
"If we want to advance in the playoffs, we need tactics nobody's expecting. That's also why I shut down the trade channel—to keep everyone guessing about our setup."
"Sacramento's market is too small to lure in big free agents. And our troublesome owner sure isn't about to throw money around and let me hand out poison-pill contracts to poach players."
Thinking of his owner, Chen Yilun couldn't help but let out a bitter smile.
It's tough. Really tough.
Given the circumstances, getting this far was already beyond expectations.
But there was one thing he didn't say out loud: only by truly breaking through this year—not another first-round exit like last season—would he finally have the leverage to confront Vivek and wrest control of the team.
(Guys, same as always. Once the trade deadline passes, we're going straight into playoff mode.)