American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

Around 10 AM, in a Fortress City apartment in Manhattan.

Don Quixote was in the living room, reviewing the Mercedes endorsement term sheet that Jin Heon had organized the day before.

In the wake of the Super Bowl, all commercial activities were entering a period of intense progress. The first $50 million installment of the four-year, $200 million USD Mercedes contract needed to be processed as soon as possible.

Li Wei was lying in the living room, playing on his phone.

"Li Wei, take a look at this."

Don Quixote said suddenly.

"Hold on," Li Wei said lazily. "I'm feeling pretty comfortable."

"?" Don Quixote looked at Li Wei, completely baffled. "What are you talking about? You're feeling uncomfortable?"

"No, I'm feeling *too* comfortable," Li Wei said, stretching lazily. "Business matters are for you guys to worry about. Don't ask me too much. I trust you."

After the Super Bowl, he was suddenly free from games, training, and clocking in.

Aside from attending his daily classes—for which he had already memorized all the textbook material—his daily tasks consisted of playing on his phone, gaming, shopping, doing shameless things with Anya, looking at the selfies Elizabeth sent and then quickly unsent, and then doing more shameless things with Anya.

'This is what you call comfortable,' he thought. He was so lost in pleasure he'd forgotten everything else. Why bother playing football? It didn't increase his stats, and it didn't even pay that much.

After the launch of the LW beverage line, Boss Li's net worth had skyrocketed to over two billion USD, more than he would make from playing ten years of football.

Instead of wasting time on football, he might as well figure out how to increase production capacity. Their current capacity of five million bottles a month was nowhere near enough to keep up with orders.

Unfortunately, neither Coca-Cola nor Pepsi was willing to meet with him. After a few more days of rest, Li Wei would have to figure out a way to solve the production line issue.

"Haven't you been a little too lazy lately?" Don Quixote said, watching Li Wei grab another handful of popcorn. "I know it's the offseason, but be careful. In a month, you'll eat yourself into a blimp."

"Don't worry, I won't blow up," Li Wei said casually as he lifted the hem of his hoodie, revealing an eight-pack like a bar of chocolate and clearly defined serratus anterior muscles. "See this? This is talent."

"Who's Ryoko?" Don Quixote mulled over the name, then shook his head. "Never mind, it's not important. From the sound of it, you really don't plan on playing anymore?"

"Right," Li Wei said, sitting up after a moment of thought. "I didn't grow up steeped in football culture. I'm not interested in it. Do you remember why I started playing in the first place?"

"To make money?" Don Quixote recalled the old days. "Get a scholarship, get into a good university, and make money."

"Exactly," Li Wei said with a snap of his fingers. "Money, money, and more money! Right now, LW beverages alone can net us 20 million USD a month. That's 240 million a year. Why would I keep playing football? The goal now is to massively expand our production capacity! We need to get LW's valuation above 10 billion USD! Then we sell it and get that sweet, sweet financial freedom!"

"But what about all these endorsements?" Don Quixote asked, waving the contract in his hand. "If you don't play, you'll be in breach of contract and have to pay a huge fine."

"True..." Li Wei mused. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. The offseason has just started, anyway."

"You..." Don Quixote watched helplessly as Li Wei flopped back onto the sofa like a salted fish, then picked up the contract again. "But I have to say, Xiaojin's work ethic is really something else. You really hit the jackpot with her, kid."

"By the way," he added, remembering something else, "have you seen John Mara recently?"

"Nope," Li Wei said distractedly, looking at a photo Elizabeth had just sent him from a fitting room before quickly unsending it. "His mood doesn't seem great lately. I heard from his assistant that he's not doing well physically, either. He just had another round of chemo."

"Over 70, battling cancer, and still working this hard," Don Quixote remarked with a sigh. Then his tone shifted. "But it's about time to discuss the contract, isn't it? And didn't he say he was going to buy each of you a Ferrari?"

"Oh, that," Li Wei said, thinking. "I heard they're still negotiating terms with Ferrari. After all, buying 53 Ferraris at once is a total value of over 25 million USD. Ferrari has to source the cars from all over the world."

"What kind of car are you getting?" Don Quixote's interest was suddenly piqued. "A LaFerrari?"

"Not quite that expensive," Li Wei said casually. "I think it's called an SP3 or something. 6.5-liter V12 engine. It's their newest model."

"Base price is 2.25 million USD. I added a ton of options—seats, components, carbon fiber, etcetera. After you factor in New York sales tax, the gas guzzler tax, and all that other random stuff, it comes out to a little over 2.8 million USD," Li Wei said offhandedly. "It's good enough. After all, he's paying for it out of his own pocket."

Don Quixote thought about it and had to agree.

Since Li Wei joined the Giants, they had fleeced John Mara for quite a lot. Never mind the over one million USD for the year-round private jet charter, there were also all the special privileges for away games, and now this nearly three-million-dollar Ferrari.

The old man really had been good to them. A three-million-dollar Ferrari was more than generous, enough to make John Mara grit his teeth.

An eight-million-dollar LaFerrari would probably make the old man grind his dentures to dust.

Don Quixote didn't say anything else and went back to studying the terms.

Not a few minutes later, speak of the devil.

The phone rang.

The caller ID read: John Mara.

"Don Quixote, are you free today?" His voice didn't sound good.

"I am. What's wrong?" Don Quixote asked. "Is something the matter?"

"Yes... There's something about Li Wei's contract. It's important. We need to talk in person," Mara said, pausing for a moment. "It would be best if you, Li Wei, and Jin Heon all came."

Don Quixote frowned.

"When?" he asked.

"As soon as possible. Get here before 12 PM," John Mara said. "I'll send you the address in a minute."

After he hung up, Li Wei asked, "He needs me for something?"

"And it's probably bad news," Don Quixote said, stroking his chin. "First, he didn't say to come to the office, which means this is very private."

"Second, he wants Xiaojin there too, which means it's related to business," he said, standing up. "And then there's his tone. He sounded a bit grave."

"Is he backing out of buying me the car?" Li Wei joked, also getting up from the sofa. "Let's go."

"I'm afraid it's a little more serious than that," Don Quixote said with a slight smile. "I won't call Hai Sheng. Let's just go quickly."

"Alright," Li Wei said, going to change his clothes. "Let Jin Heon know and tell her to head out too."

Don Quixote dialed Jin Heon's number as he walked toward his own room.

"Xiaojin, where are you...? The Dolores boutique?" He held the phone between his ear and shoulder. "Listen... something important has come up, probably related to Li Wei's contract. We're heading over to John Mara's place now. I'll send you the address in a moment... Yeah, okay."

Dressed in their suits, Don Quixote and Li Wei went down to the garage.

"Xiaojin is at the Dolores boutique. She should get there around the same time we do," he said, getting into the Cullinan. "It should take us about 30 minutes."

「...」

John Mara's residence was a classic townhouse. From the outside, at least, it blended in seamlessly with the other mansions on the Upper East Side.

There was no sign at the entrance, only a dark brown door flanked by two pots of winter holly.

If not for the address sent by John Mara's butler, no passerby would ever believe that the owner of the prestigious NFL team, the New York Giants—a man worth billions of USD—lived inside.

When Li Wei got out of the car, a Porsche 911 was already parked by the curb.

When Jin Heon saw Li Wei arrive, she quickly put her phone away and hurried over.

"What's going on, Boss?" she asked, looking rather nervous. "Mr. Mara suddenly called a meeting, and he wanted me here too?"

"Not sure," Li Wei shrugged. "We'll find out when we get inside."

Looking at Li Wei's expression, Jin Heon, for some reason, felt the panic in her heart gradually subside.

It was as if Li Wei was a mature and reliable adult. What was that old saying from the Celestial Dynasty again?

'A man of substance... no, no, that's not it. It's: to remain unperturbed even if Mount Tai were to collapse before him.'

'Wow, so cool,' she thought.

Li Wei walked ahead and up the steps, where John Mara's butler was already waiting.

After changing their shoes, the group saw John Mara in the living room for the first time in days.

He seemed even thinner than he had been during the Super Bowl.

Without a makeup artist's touch-ups or his personal physician's assistance, he looked like a frail old man with one foot in the grave.

He was currently walking in circles around the room, supported by a maid.

Upon seeing Li Wei enter, a smile blossomed on John Mara's face.

"Please, have a seat," he said. "I know you're still on vacation, but this is quite urgent."

"What is it?" Li Wei first let Don Quixote and Jin Heon find seats before sitting down himself. "Is it about my contract?"

"More or less," John Mara said, waving away the maid's support and sitting down on his own. "It's only been three days since the Super Bowl, and I've already received no fewer than twenty calls."

"And that's not counting the final email I received this morning," he paused. "Representatives from eighteen teams, sponsors, the NFL's top brass, and Las Vegas are jointly demanding to 'discuss' your career plans with me."

The expression on Don Quixote's face darkened.

"Career plans?" Li Wei shrugged. "Do they want me to switch careers?"

"They want you to stop playing," John Mara said, taking a sip of warm water. "To be precise, they want you to disappear from the NFL."

Don Quixote's brow furrowed tightly, and he opened his mouth to speak several times.

Li Wei raised an eyebrow.

'Is this for real?'

"Tonight at 7:30," Mara continued, "they've asked to meet me at the Metropolis Club. Everyone will be there. This is an official showdown."

"But rest assured," he said, looking at Li Wei with the eyes of a lion. "No matter what they say tonight, no matter what they threaten me with, I will not back down. You are the greatest player in the history of the New York Giants. They'll have to step over my dead body before I let them touch you."

Li Wei sucked in a sharp breath.

'Oh, hell no. Don't do that to me.'