People in America: My Uncle Don Quixote

"Yeah, what else?" Li Wei retorted. "If you can go, why not go?"

Don Quixote pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his filthy, paint-stained coat, lit one, and slowly exhaled a puff of smoke.

"Actually... I still want to advise you to be more realistic."

For a fleeting moment, Li Wei noticed that the strength in his body seemed to have dissipated.

"I've seen you going to the gym lately and studying AP textbooks every day," Don Quixote said, exhaling a puff of smoke. "I've been observing you for several days now."

"The Ivy League, especially Yale, isn't a place anyone can go," he said. "Even if you get in, it's useless. What good is it? Do you think you can get in by taking more AP exams? Or by getting a high SAT score?"

"Hiccup... You're wrong," he waved his hand, "completely wrong, completely wrong."

Li Wei suddenly felt that Don Quixote was acting a bit strange today.

It's worth noting that although Don Quixote had a miserable life, Livy could see hope in him. He seemed to be constantly striving to survive and pursuing something.

But at this moment, he seemed to have lost his backbone, appearing extremely dejected. He collapsed onto the sofa, trying to drown his sorrows in alcohol and cigarettes.

"Are you on a high?" Li Wei said. "I saw on TikTok that at least half of the semi-homeless people like you are addicted to drugs."

"What kind of people does Yale want? The kind who can casually donate a building to the college, save white rhinos on the African savanna, and worry about this bullshit carbon dioxide emissions," Don Quixote muttered to himself. "And even if you get into an Ivy League school, so what? When you're young, you always think you have unlimited potential, but who can really know what your future holds?"

He pointed to himself: "Look at me, Li Wei, do I look like a graduate of the University of Chicago's School of Economics?"

This really stunned Li Wei.

The University of Chicago holds a position in the field of economics much like Jerusalem is to believers; the "Chicago School," which originated there, has produced more than 30 Nobel laureates in economics.

And this man in front of me?

"You don't believe me?" Don Quixote laughed self-deprecatingly. "Ha! Even you think it's a joke, right?"

He took a deep drag of his cigarette, and the smoke made him cough violently, as if he were coughing up his lungs.

"That's right, kid. This is the first thing I'm telling you from the bottom of my heart! In this shitty world, even if you graduate from a top university, if you take one wrong step, if you're just a little bit unlucky, or if you run into an ex-wife who's determined to rip you off... you'll just be living like a rat in this damn sewer."

Don Quixote stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

"So," Li Wei said softly, "it's related to your ex-wife?"

Don Quixote did not respond.

"What message did your ex-wife send you this time?" Li Wei asked, "that made you complain like a dead dog."

Don Quixote abruptly raised his head, a flicker of shame and anger at being exposed flashing in his cloudy eyes, quickly overwhelmed by a profound sense of powerlessness. He pulled a crumpled summons from his pocket and tossed it onto the coffee table.

"Lily wants to attend an equestrian summer camp, which requires $5000 in tuition," Levi read softly, picking up the note. "If we can't pay that, we'll lose visitation rights?!"

"Good grief," he waved the summons, "I understand the living expenses, but you still have to pay for the extracurricular classes."

"The American dog's principle of maintaining a standard of living means that even after a divorce, the quality of life for the children cannot be lowered," Don Quixote picked up his wine and took another sip. "Honestly, if it weren't for my daughter, I probably would have already taken drugs and died in the basement."

"5000 US dollars..."

He muttered to himself.

"I've never heard you mention my cousin before," Li Wei raised an eyebrow. "Tell me about her?"

"Of course, her name is Lily," Don Quixote took another swig from the bottle, "she's like—no, she is an angel."

When he uttered the name, Don Quixote's face, contorted by alcohol and despair, revealed an expression that could even be described as "holy."

He pulled a carefully laminated photograph from his wallet and handed it to Li Wei.

Li Wei tried to take the photo, but found that Don Quixote's fingers were tightly gripping it, refusing to let go.

He stood up and leaned closer to take a look. The photo showed a little girl dressed elegantly, riding a pony, who looked to be only six or seven years old, smiling brightly at the camera.

"I'm broke, Livy. I'm really broke," Don Quixote said, closing his eyes in anguish. "I haven't seen her for three months. I want to see her, to hug her, to talk to her, but lately... I'm not doing very well. I often drive around her neighborhood, but I don't dare stop to see her, and I don't even know if she's doing well."

Li Wei looked at the photo, then at the middle-aged man in front of him who was on the verge of collapse.

If Don Quixote is left alone at this point, the man will most likely completely collapse. Losing visitation rights will cause his only pillar of support to crumble, leading to endless alcoholism and drug addiction, ultimately resulting in his violent death in the street.

Livy sat opposite Don Quixote and waited quietly for a while.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Don Quixote noticed Livy's gaze. "Go ahead and laugh at me. I've been laughed at enough by that woman..."

"No, that's not it," Li Wei thought to himself. "I'm just waiting for the mission to trigger."

After what felt like an eternity of silence, he was forced to accept the reality that this event did not seem to trigger the mission.

"How much money do you have right now?" Levi asked reluctantly. "How much more is the $5000 I need?"

"I'm still short by more than 3200," Don Quixote said. "Will you help me?"

Li Wei thought for a moment, then returned to his cubicle, and under Don Quixote's incredulous gaze, took out a few loose dollars totaling $4000.

After thinking it over carefully, he took back $500 and put $3500 in front of Don Quixote.

"I think that should be enough," Levi said. "Go ahead, and while you're at it, meet your daughter. Use the remaining $300 to buy yourself some nice clothes, take a shower, and treat her to a good meal."

"But...where did you get so much money?" Don Quixote stared dumbfounded at the table piled high with US dollars. "Have you joined a Chinese gang? Could you introduce me to your dear uncle?"

"The rich people on the Upper East Side are very generous with tips. You should clean yourself up and get some plastic surgery," Li Wei said. "I'll recommend you to sell your ass."

"Really?" Don Quixote exclaimed excitedly. "Can I really sell myself at my age?"

Li Weichong laughed heartily as Don Quixote gave him the middle finger.

"Thank you, lad," Don Quixote suddenly beamed. "When I get rid of that wretched woman, get custody, and make a comeback, I will definitely repay you."

"You've already said that once," Li Wei said calmly, "last night."

"Last night?" Don Quixote asked doubtfully. "Did I say that?"