American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

Elizabeth's manor was as quiet as a sleeping ancient castle in the dead of night. Occasionally, a gust of wind passing through the corridor would make a window let out a faint CREAK.

Elizabeth's room and Li Wei's room were seven or eight meters apart.

A distance that was far enough, yet not nearly far enough.

Not long after she had gone to bed, Anya's voice—or more accurately, her completely unrestrained voice—passed through the bedroom door, traveled down the corridor, and finally reached Elizabeth's room.

If at first it had been faint, low moans, within a few minutes it had transformed into a clear declaration, as if staking a claim of sovereignty.

Elizabeth suddenly realized a very important point.

The house was from the 1920s. In terms of soundproofing, neither its materials nor its acoustic design could hold a candle to a modern residence.

'I might as well have rented out an entire hotel floor,' she thought. 'Why am I torturing myself by being forced to eavesdrop here?'

At this thought, Elizabeth sighed, pulled the covers over her head, and buried her face in her pillow.

Anya's whispers, punctuated by sudden, soaring cries, made Elizabeth feel no different from a prisoner locked in an adjacent cell.

Torture.

Besides, she was in no mood to sleep now.

She had received—or rather, lost—her first kiss.

Before meeting Li Wei, she had seriously contemplated her future.

Back then, her father was still in the United Kingdom, leaving her isolated and helpless within the family. She had virtually no say in anything, holding on by a thread through her own sheer effort.

And she knew she was beautiful.

She had once thought the best possible outcome for her life would be to marry a man she didn't particularly hate and then live a decent life off a trust fund.

But now, she had enough power to say no, to decide the course of her own destiny. Though her love life wasn't perfect, she was content enough.

'Fate has already shown me enough mercy.' She touched her lips and suddenly chuckled twice.

Then, as if feeling it was too foolish, she covered her flushed face with her hands.

The moonlight secretly spilling in through the window shifted bit by bit with the passing time, moving from the left side of the curtains to the right.

In the distance from Pasadena, the silhouette of the San Gabriel Mountains changed from pitch black to deep blue, then took on a layer of purple.

It wasn't until just before the sky began to lighten at dawn that Anya was finally completely spent.

After letting Li Wei wipe her down, she collapsed onto his chest, not wanting to lift a single finger.

"You still holding up?" Li Wei looked down at her, gave her a kiss, and asked with a grin, "Not angry anymore?"

Anya didn't even have the strength to speak.

She weakly lifted a finger, gave him the middle one, and then even that finger flopped down limply.

"Don't... wake me for breakfast." Her voice was thin and hoarse, like a speaker with a dead battery.

After saying that, she closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep within seconds, even letting out soft snores.

At the other end of the corridor, Elizabeth, lying in bed, also let out a sigh of relief.

The effects of the alcohol had nearly worn off, and the sky was about to brighten.

She could finally get some sleep.

...

Morning came early in Pasadena.

When sunlight shone into the bedroom through the gap in the not-quite-closed curtains, Anya was still curled up in Li Wei's arms, her breathing even, sleeping like a kitten on its back.

Her exhaustion left her lips slightly parted, emitting an extremely faint snore.

'If she knew she snored, she'd probably get angry all over again,' Li Wei thought.

Li Wei carefully slipped his arm out from under Anya's neck.

Anya mumbled, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Li Wei got dressed and went downstairs.

Elizabeth's bedroom door was shut tight, showing no signs of her being awake.

As he passed by, he greeted a maid who had her head lowered and asked for a glass of ice water.

Just as he reached the ground floor, his phone vibrated.

Li Wei picked it up and saw it was a call from Jin Heon.

It wasn't even 8 AM yet; it was as if Jin Heon didn't need sleep at all.

"Good morning, boss!" Jin Heon's voice was as energetic as ever. "Are you up?"

"I'm up." Li Wei sat in the side hall, took the glass of ice water from the maid, and had a sip.

"Is now a good time? I have two things to report to you."

"Go ahead."

"Alrighty, the first thing is good news," Jin Heon said rapidly. "Ethan Horton's surgery was a great success! The Children's Hospital Los Angeles reported that everything went smoothly, and he can have official visitors the morning after tomorrow."

"I've already contacted reporters from ESPN, Fox, NBC, and the New York Times. A total of four media outlets have confirmed they will cover it," she paused, her tone unconsciously softening. "Also, Rachel—that's Ethan's mom—asked me to express her sincerest gratitude to you."

"She's truly grateful," she added. "She was bawling her eyes out on the phone."

"I understand," Li Wei considered for a moment. "Later, I'll have Brother Haisheng buy a pair of my signature Nike sneakers, and I'll also give them one of my autographed jerseys. How does that sound?"

"No problem," Jin Heon said immediately. "That's more than enough."

"Alright," Li Wei took a sip of water. "What's the second thing?"

"The second... is bad news," Jin Heon paused. "We already have four distributors in talks with us about representation, and our beverage pre-orders have surpassed 15 million bottles."

"Isn't that good news?" Li Wei chuckled.

"No..." Jin Heon said. "Coca-Cola has refused to add more production lines for us, and our current capacity can only handle a maximum of 5 million bottles per month."

"They refused?" Li Wei's brow furrowed slightly. "What exactly did they say?"

"Last night at the victory party, I ran into a VP from Coca-Cola's North America business line," Jin Heon said. "I mentioned that we needed to expand our production capacity, and he said he would go back and hold an emergency meeting to discuss it."

She paused. "But his reply this morning was that the two current sterile production lines are the maximum they can allocate to external contract manufacturing projects."

"He didn't give a reason?" Li Wei chuckled. "Forget it. It's probably just a bunch of empty words, like 'capacity allocation takes time,' 'the certification period for sterile workshops is long,' 'other clients' schedules are also tight,' and so on."

"You're absolutely right, boss," Jin Heon's voice held a trace of anger. "But I don't think that's the real reason."

"Of course it isn't," Li Wei said, leaning back on the sofa. "Coca-Cola and Pepsi-Cola are mortal enemies, but it's not like we're on Coca-Cola's side. When it comes to suppressing new third-party brands, their interests are aligned. They have no reason to help us grow."

"And are you sure he said 'external contract manufacturing projects'?" he asked.

"That's right," Jin Heon said. "We just spoke on the phone 20 minutes ago."

"Then there's no mistake. His words have a hidden meaning," Li Wei smiled. "If they invested in us, it would no longer be an 'external' contract manufacturing project, would it?"

"So what do we do?" Jin Heon asked. "I haven't started contacting other independent brands' production lines yet to see if we can borrow a few. Or should we build our own?"

"Let's not rush," Li Wei considered. "Wait until I get back to New York. In the meantime, help me schedule a meeting with them."

His tone had unconsciously taken on a serious edge.

"Understood."

"Also," Li Wei thought for a moment, "isn't there a parade the day after tomorrow in the afternoon?"

After the Super Bowl, it was a default tradition for the champion team to return to their home city for a parade.

"Yes, Mr. Don Quixote confirmed it with the NFL at the victory party yesterday," Jin Heon said. "The championship parade in New York is set for the afternoon of the day after tomorrow. It will start from Battery City Park in Manhattan and proceed along Broadway Avenue to City Hall. It's expected to draw over a million spectators."

"Got it," Li Wei said. "I'm aware. We'll discuss the details when we meet. I have other arrangements, so we'll talk more when I get back. For the next two days, just get some good rest."

Aside from Jin Heon and Li Wei, it seemed everyone else slept for the entire day.

Elizabeth didn't get up until nearly noon, and her face still flushed red when she saw Li Wei.

Anya forced herself out of bed at noon, barely managed to eat lunch at the manor, and then eagerly went back to catch up on sleep.

A while later in the afternoon, Chen Haisheng, Don Quixote, Jin Heon, and Kaja came to visit.

The moment Jin Heon walked in, she started talking about how bustling Los Angeles was today.

Don Quixote suggested they all go out for a stroll, noting that New York was still being ravaged by cold winds and blizzards. The weather on the East Coast of the United States couldn't hold a candle to the West Coast, so they might as well take this chance to enjoy the sunshine.

But Li Wei, thinking of Anya's condition, politely declined Don Quixote's suggestion. He chose to stay at the manor, secretly using his [Silver Body] to slowly replenish her blood.

So, Don Quixote and the others went out shopping and didn't return until evening.

Unlike Don Quixote's group, who were out shopping joyfully...

New York, Lower East Side of Manhattan.

Here, there was a small sports bar named McCarthy's.

It was squeezed between a dry cleaner's and a barbershop run by Dominicans, its storefront so narrow it could almost be compared to the Leaky Cauldron from *Harry Potter*—most people wouldn't even notice it.

But in the local circle of sports agents, McCarthy's was considered an old haunt.

It wasn't a high-end establishment by any means; even one of the letters on the sign out front was burnt out. But the beer was cheap, the chicken nuggets were big, and the owner was a veteran in the sports agent world with a Mafia background and good intel. So, small and mid-level agents would always gather here in small groups to share information.

In the sports agent business, nothing was more important than an information advantage.

If you could discover a promising rookie before anyone else and sign them for a cheap price, you'd be making millions a year and frequenting high-end restaurants and resorts once they made it big.

Unfortunately, with the internet becoming more and more developed, many of these promising prospects knew they were promising prospects. They had long since learned to use the internet to understand their own standing and market value.

Those who couldn't sign top prospects could only end up in places like McCarthy's, watching superstars represented by other agents dominate on TV while shooting the shit and wondering where to find their next target.

Tonight was the second night after the Super Bowl, and the bar was moderately crowded.

The two TVs hanging behind the bar were replaying highlights from yesterday's Super Bowl. The close-up of Li Wei hoisting the MVP trophy looked somewhat distorted on the screen.

Agent White was the only person who stood to drink while wearing a suit. (Ch. 75)