Chapter 213: Chapter 134: I Want to Be the Second Bruce Lee
Honestly, Li Wei didn’t really want to accept Lin Daohang’s gift.
He’d never had any deep conversations with the man, after all. He had simply helped them solve a problem by chance, and he figured that would be the end of it. Who would have thought that Lin Daohang—whether looking for a powerful backer or just a friend—would be willing to pay such a steep price to earn his friendship.
Even for Li Wei, two million USD was an astronomical sum.
But his main concern was Lin Daohang’s background.
A man who had clawed his way up to become president of the Fujian Business Association... If you told him the man’s rise was completely legitimate, with no shady dealings whatsoever, Li Wei wouldn’t believe it for a second.
Not to mention, Lin Daohang himself had said Jinfeng Building was used for money laundering.
Putting aside whether Li Wei even needed to launder money, if Lin Daohang had any enemies, hidden or otherwise—or if a politician decided to target him—it would be all too easy for them to follow the trail right back to Li Wei.
Sure, with Li Wei’s current status and connections, a single call to Elizabeth Mellon might make the problem disappear. But he didn’t want to take that kind of risk.
There was another reason, too: he and the Chinese in Chinatown were not cut from the same cloth. He might accept the gift one minute, only for Lin Daohang to use it as leverage against him the next.
’Shares worth two million USD, not two hundred million. If it were the latter, Li Wei figured the call might be worth making. Judging by the way Elizabeth acted, her monthly allowance probably wasn’t that much. Being dependent on a family trust likely came with its own restrictions; otherwise, she would have bought jewelry from Lady Delores instead of borrowing it.’
’But two million USD...’
"I’m sorry," Li Wei said, shaking his head and pushing the envelope back. "I can’t accept these shares. I haven’t done anything to deserve them."
"What do you mean?" Lin Daohang was stunned, at a loss.
"I didn’t contact Mayor Holmes personally. Or rather, I haven’t had the chance to yet," Li Wei said. "As for the demolition in Chinatown, perhaps he had a change of heart for other reasons."
"You’re too kind, Mr. Li," Lin Daohang said with a sigh, taking back the envelope. "Since you insist, it seems my gesture was poorly considered."
"I have to go meet my girlfriend," Li Wei said with a slight nod. "Shall we leave it at that for today?"
"I’ll see you out." Lin Daohang personally stood up and escorted Li Wei downstairs.
As Li Wei’s car disappeared into the streets of Chinatown, the young man with the buzz cut standing beside Lin Daohang spoke in a snide tone. "Some big shot. Too good for shares in Jinfeng Building."
"He’s not looking down on Jinfeng Building," Lin Daohang said, glancing back at the young man. "He’s looking down on us."
"Master, I told you so," the young man said indignantly. "If we want to protect our Chinatown, we can only rely on our own people. That Li Wei lives in a rich neighborhood, drives a luxury car, and dates pretty, rich white girls. He stopped being one of us a long time ago."
Hearing this, Lin Daohang understood what was in Chen Haisheng’s heart.
"But who else can we rely on right now? You, Chen Haisheng?" Lin Daohang said. "What can you do besides fight? I offered to send you to school, but you refused, wanting only to practice martial arts every day. After high school, I told you to go to community college, but you wouldn’t listen, insisting on running the streets instead... Now you’re just working in a roast meat shop. Do you think you can get Mayor Holmes to listen to you by bringing him a couple pounds of roast duck?"
"Isn’t being able to fight enough?" the buzz-cut young man, Chen Haisheng, retorted indignantly. "I started training with you when I was four, and I haven’t stopped for twenty years. It takes three or five of those damn foreigners to even get near me. A few years back, when those black devils and the Vietnamese punks came looking for trouble, wasn’t I the one who fought them off?"
Faced with Chen Haisheng’s indignation, Lin Daohang simply shook his head, sighed again, and walked toward Jinfeng Building with his hands behind his back.
"I really don’t get it," Chen Haisheng said, striding in front of Lin Daohang. "When those white guys from the IRS come to check the books, you plaster on a smile and hand them cigars. When those black gangsters came to stir up trouble, you put on a smile and gave them cash. But with a kid six years younger than me, you bow and scrape. Master, why do you put up with this kind of humiliation at your age?"
"Why?" Lin Daohang laughed. "Because right now, he’s a famous sports star. Are you?"
"If he can do it, so can I! The only dignity that matters is the dignity earned with our fists. That’s true dignity for us Chinese." A near-fanatical ambition burned in Chen Haisheng’s eyes. He thumped his chest hard, producing a muffled THUD, THUD. "I’ll be honest with you, I’ve already signed up for the Golden Gloves boxing tournament in New York. If I win the championship, I can go pro."
"If Li Wei can become a hero to the Americans through football, then so can I!" The light in his eyes grew brighter. "I’m going to be the next Bruce Lee! I’ll make those white politicians want to come and shake my hand! I’ll make those black gangsters cross the street when they see me! I’ll make it so you... never have to bow and scrape in front of a kid like Li Wei again! And that what’s-his-name Holmes will never again dare to trample on the culture that’s been passed down to us."
Lin Daohang looked at the disciple he had raised himself and sighed.
’Putting aside how much of traditional martial arts could be used without weapons and while wearing boxing gloves, even in terms of raw talent for martial arts, Chen Haisheng wasn’t one of his most gifted students.’
’His only virtues were his willingness to endure hardship and his obedience. Originally, Lin Daohang had thought that if Li Wei accepted his gift, he could smoothly introduce Chen Haisheng to him, maybe as a driver or something, to build a closer relationship.’
’Now, seeing the fire in Chen Haisheng’s eyes, he realized that this disciple of his, despite training for over twenty years and being several years older than Li Wei, was still just a hot-headed brat.’
After Chen Haisheng left, Lin Daohang thought for a moment, then made a phone call.
"Old Song, it’s me, Lin Daohang," he said, a smile instantly appearing on his face. "From now on, every week—no, every two weeks, send another batch of those same ingredients to the same address. And remember to switch up the ingredients every three months. I want the freshest stuff from the Celestial Dynasty... Yes, yes, find someone to carry it over, or even smuggle it in... Oh, don’t worry about the money. Just bill it to me."
After hanging up, Lin Daohang looked toward Manhattan.
’People have hearts, after all. As a patriotic overseas businessman who had crossed the ocean to put down roots in New York in the 90s, and who, even after finding fame, never forgot to donate scholarships, invest in roads, and build Hope primary schools in his hometown, he felt that Li Wei wasn’t a bad person. Perhaps they just weren’t familiar enough with each other yet. With more contact, he might be able to build a good relationship with him.’
’As for Chen Haisheng...’ He sighed. ’Unlike him or Li Wei, Chen Haisheng was a Chinese-American born and raised in Chinatown. He had experienced varying degrees of racial discrimination since he started school, so it was only natural that he was so sensitive to what others thought of him.’
’He just hoped the boy wouldn’t be too impulsive.’
He sat back down at the table and brewed himself a cup of tea.
...
「North Bronx, Horace Mann School, 5:00 PM.」
Ivy League decision day.
As a student body from what was indisputably one of the top three elite preparatory schools in the entire United States of America, every boy and girl at Horace Mann School considered the Ivy League their first choice.
Getting into Harvard or Yale placed you at the very top of the food chain. As for the next tier down, Brown University and Columbia University... well, they were acceptable, I guess. But if you were unlucky enough to only get a conditional offer from Dartmouth College, you’d better hide it well and pray your classmates didn’t find out. Otherwise, you’d be met with endless ridicule.
The student lounge was dead silent, save for the frantic tapping of fingers on screens.
Anya sat on a sofa in the corner, holding an iPad Pro. She already knew the outcome thanks to Ms. Wood, so she wasn’t worried about being rejected.
Her slender fingers glided lightly over the screen as she typed in her username and password, then hit enter.
A video of a cheerfully dancing bulldog popped up on the screen, followed by a shower of virtual confetti and a reassuring word:
[Congratulations!]
[Welcome to Yale!]
A faint smile touched Anya’s lips. She casually closed the window and began humming a little Slavic tune.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the lounge, Tiffany Rockefeller and Jessica stared intently at their screens, their faces as pale as paper.
"How could this happen..." Tiffany’s fingers trembled. "The Ivy League is one thing... but why did even Stanford reject me?"
They frantically refreshed their inboxes, hoping to find even one offer from an Ivy League school, but fate seemed to be playing a cruel joke on them.
Only a single email lay forlornly in each of their inboxes, marked with a purple header.
[Welcome to New York University!]
"New York University?!" Tiffany shrieked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "Are you kidding me?! That’s a school for the common middle class, the nouveau riche, and washed-up influencers! I’m a Rockefeller! How can I go to New York University and mingle with a bunch of hippies who do nothing but smoke weed in Washington Square Park!"
She’d rather be sent to Siberia to plant potatoes!
"Calm down, dear," Jessica said weakly. "At least we’ll be college classmates again..."
Just as the two were mourning as if they’d lost their parents, Anya came over, humming her little tune and holding her iPad. She pretended to glance nonchalantly at their screens.
"Isn’t New York University great?" Anya blinked her innocent-looking eyes, her tone dripping with sincere mockery.
"What are you trying to say?" Tiffany hissed, glaring at her through clenched teeth. "Are you here to gloat?"
"Of course not, darling," Anya cooed, leaning closer and speaking in a soft whisper only the three of them could hear. "I genuinely think New York University is perfect for you. Just think, NYU is in Lower Manhattan, so close to Chelsea. And it’s just a stone’s throw from 1OAK Nightclub."
"You...!"
Tiffany trembled with rage, her face turning the color of liver. She wanted to argue, to scream, to tear apart Anya’s beautiful face, but then she remembered the fighting prowess of the seemingly slender and delicate Russian girl in front of her—and the pistol in her bag, which might or might not be real, a bet she was absolutely unwilling to take. In the end, she forced herself to swallow her anger for now.
"But this isn’t over," she muttered to herself, loud enough only for Jessica to hear. "I’ll definitely get my revenge."
...
「Early May, one month before high school graduation.」
Li Wei drove to the Giants’ training facility.
"You’re early," said Dabor, the Giants’ head coach, greeting Li Wei at the entrance. "Rookie training doesn’t start until 10 AM."
