People in America: My Uncle Don Quixote

Chapter 87 Thanksgiving Date (Paying Off Debts 2/10, Requesting Monthly Tickets)

At 7 a.m., he underwent an MRI and a 3D bone density scan at the sports medicine center (thankfully, he had upgraded to a quarter of the Silver Body level, gaining the ability to alter his physique). The sampling needle was repeatedly inserted into his vein to detect fluctuations in various indicators under high-intensity pressure.

At noon, he was trapped in the studio of NBC or ESPN, bathed in the spotlight of tens of millions of dollars, repeatedly telling his American dream story (which was also required by the event organizers).

At 4 p.m., he went to Nike for equipment customization and portrait photography. Running back and forth left him no time to deal with Don Quixote's sleepwalking.

Fortunately, in his dream, Don Quixote discovered that his sword (iron rod) was missing and announced that he would go to find a new weapon. He has not sleepwalked for more than a week now.

In an in-depth interview with ESPN, a reporter finally dropped the bombshell: "Mr. Levi, there's a highly controversial rumor circulating in the football world. It's said that John Mara, owner of the New York Giants, is privately working with several key partners to lobby NFL headquarters to change the draft requirement that players must have been at least three years out of high school."

His tone was extremely sharp, and he stared intently at Li Wei as he spoke.

"It's widely believed that this yet-to-be-implemented Levy Clause" is a fast track to the NFL professional scene, specifically designed for you. Did you reject all college offers and a multi-million dollar NIL contract because you were already aware of this rule change targeting you? Do you believe you deserve this special exemption that breaks with a century-old tradition?"

Li Wei adjusted the microphone slightly and answered the reporter's question: "First of all, I have absolutely no idea about the source of this news," he lied blatantly, "Secondly, if the NFL..."

The decision to reassess the admissions mechanism only demonstrates that the existing three-year threshold, in the context of the movement's evolution, does indeed have its flaws. Finally, I would like to reiterate that my rejection of the NIL contract was based on a financial assessment of risk hedging and discounted future cash flows, not on reliance on any form of political lobbying.

And so the days passed by, and finally, after more than two weeks, Li Wei was able to finally breathe a sigh of relief after the last insurance waiver was signed.

He now has a full set of custom-made equipment (including a helmet), a thick medical report that won't require testing for at least a year, and a round-trip ticket to San Antonio after Christmas.

By the time Li Wei realized it, Thanksgiving was already just around the corner.

In late November, temperatures plummeted in New York City, and fallen leaves in the Bell Ridge area were swept across the streets by the cold wind.

Li Wei leaned back on the sofa and yawned listlessly.

Before him, Don Quixote was pacing back and forth in the living room at an extremely high frequency, just like a hamster trapped in a cage, only able to keep going back and forth.

"I say," he looked at Don Quixote, "you've been wandering around the room for half an hour, why don't you make a phone call?"

Don Quixote stopped in his tracks, clutching a limited-edition Barbie doll he had just unpacked from a gift box, and awkwardly trying to straighten the pink lace hem of her dress.

Moreover, Levi would bet he spent at least $1500 on this Thanksgiving.

Don Quixote, who used to be incredibly frugal and stingy with himself, was surprisingly generous when it came to his daughter.

In the center of the table was a huge pumpkin basket filled with pine cones and ribbons.

A small pile of gifts was stacked in the corner, including Lily's favorite complete set of picture books, and even a small equestrian protective gear that she had asked Levi to order from China.

There was at least one frozen turkey weighing at least 15 pounds on the counter—oh, he didn't buy it; he got it from a welfare agency where he used to frequently receive benefits.

Hearing Li Wei's urging, Don Quixote finally made up his mind, took a deep breath, and dialed his ex-wife's number.

However, as the call connected, Don Quixote's expression quickly shifted from anticipation to doubt, and finally to a grimace like that of someone about to erupt.

"You want another $1000?" His voice rose an octave. "Why? I can't possibly accept this equestrian training camp offer!"

A harsh, cold laugh came from the other end of the phone. Even without speakerphone, Li Wei's physical condition and mental state allowed him to clearly hear his ex-wife's arrogant tone.

"Stop pretending," she said. "I've been keeping an eye on you. You've been doing well lately, haven't you? Then your child support payments should increase accordingly. When you were living in a basement, you could easily come up with $5000. Now, raising your child support by $1000 a month shouldn't be too difficult, right?"

"Absolutely not!" Don Quixote said, his face ashen. "Even if I agree now, you'll definitely use it to blackmail me later."

"Then you can go with your turkey."

With a "click," the phone was abruptly disconnected.

"That wicked woman! That greedy, filthy bitch!"

Don Quixote suddenly grabbed the Barbie doll from the coffee table, then gently put it down as if afraid of breaking it.

He looked around, seemingly searching for something to vent his anger.

"I'm going to get her back," he said, getting ready to leave. "She's going to middle school next year, and she can't be like her bitch mother. She'll ruin Lily."

"Calm down," Levi stepped in front of Don Quixote, "If you rush over there in the middle of the night, you'll get nothing but a restraining order from the NYPD and a Thanksgiving jail trip. And if you hurt her, you might lose visitation rights altogether."

"Then what can I do now?" Don Quixote roared in impotent rage. "I can't just let her suck my blood again and again, can I?"

"Tomorrow, on Thanksgiving morning, I'm going to watch the Macy's parade with Anya—that Russian girl," Levi patted Don Quixote on the shoulder. "We'll pick up your daughter around noon after the parade."

"You?" Don Quixote was taken aback. "What idea do you have?"

Li Wei remembered the [Talkative] skill he hadn't used in a long time and smiled: "Trust me, I'll find a way."

The next morning, Thanksgiving Day.

Anya examined her body in front of the full-length mirror.

Her legs were a bit short compared to other American women, probably because she wasn't very tall, and her breasts were a bit small, not the shape she preferred.

This made her slightly discouraged, after all, among the people she and Levi knew, Elizabeth Mellon was larger than her in height, bust size, and hip size.

Her jeans left a red mark around her waist—in fact, she had tried on no fewer than six pairs of jeans, but had not found the perfect pair that best suited her leg shape and the shoes she was going to wear that day.

But her skin was still amazing, a delicate ivory white, as white as Siberian snow. How long had it been since she'd seen snow in Moscow? Half a year? A year? But to her it felt like a lifetime.

Her hair was haphazardly coiled into a ball. She rushed into the bathroom, applied her newly bought lip gloss to her lips, and then picked up a comb to comb her hair until it cascaded over her shoulders in the most sensual way.

That's it, she's extremely satisfied with herself now.

Wait, it seems like something's still missing.

While getting dressed, she suddenly remembered something. She ran quickly to the vanity, bit her lower lip, and pulled out her favorite perfume from among more than a hundred bottles. She took off her clothes and sprayed a little everywhere.

Oh, I'm such a bad girl.

However, careful consideration can also lead to a problem.

The phone rang at the door.

"Suka!" she called out.

She glanced at the time; a full 37 minutes had passed since she and Li Wei had agreed to meet.

She could only close her eyes and grab an outfit, hoping it wouldn't look too bad, even though she wasn't the type of girl who prayed. In Moscow, she would go to the Orthodox church with her father, but that was all.

I hope everything goes well; she has done her best.

When Li Wei came upstairs and rang her doorbell, she hurriedly opened the door a crack.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," Li Wei, dressed casually, handed the roses to Anya. "These are for you."

"Should I take off my shoes?" he added dryly, "This is my first time visiting a girl's house."

Anya smiled and opened the door a little wider. He seemed a little nervous, even more nervous than she was, which was really adorable.

"Come in and wait a bit," she said, taking his hand. "I'll be right there."

This was the first time Li Wei had directly experienced how wealthy Anya's house was—especially when he saw that this large penthouse even had three living rooms.

He sat in the living room for about 10 minutes, the air filled with Anya's slightly sweet scent, a faint perfume mixed with the girl's fragrance.

She didn't have that typical Western body odor, a concept suddenly flashed through Li Wei's mind—not even a trace of it.

This made her even more charming.

When Anya finally emerged somewhat awkwardly from the bedroom, carrying a bag in one hand and a pair of ankle boots with the tags still on in the other, Li Wei stood up and took the bag from her.

"Let's go, we can make it in time if we go now," Li Wei said softly, naturally taking Anya's hand again with his other hand. "Would you like to grab something to eat along the way?"

Anya shook her head like a rattle drum.

Movie scenes or classic romantic comedies started flashing through her mind again. She worried that her performance had been too poor, and also whether she had worn too much perfume.

She secretly observed Li Wei, trying to find a trace of dissatisfaction on his face, but she couldn't find any.

Li Wei drove Anya in his black Cadillac Escalade through the slightly crowded streets of Manhattan.

Today, due to the Macy's parade, traffic in Midtown is practically paralyzed.

They parked their car a few blocks from West 77th Street.

The moment she pushed open the door, the biting cold air of late November in New York rushed in through her collar, making Anya, who had just been in the warm carriage, shiver.

As I walked out of the parking lot, I could already see the giant Snoopy and Pikachu balloons peeking out from between the skyscrapers at the far end of my vision.

The streets were already packed with people, the air filled with the aroma of roasted almond caramel and hot dogs wafting from street vendors, and the sweltering excitement of thousands of New Yorkers and tourists gathered together.

The sounds of a brass band in the distance mingled with the sharp laughter of children.

"Let's move forward a bit," Levi said, grabbing Anya's hand. "We can't see anything from where we are now."

Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is one of the most important events in New York City, attracting hundreds of thousands of spectators each time. At this time, the crowd on West 77th Street in Manhattan has solidified into an almost solid non-Newtonian fluid.

Unlike ordinary tourists who flirt with the edge, Li Wei firmly grasped Anya's slender wrist with one hand, pulled her into his arms, and with his other arm across his body, he plunged headlong into the crowd.

"Excuse me, thank you." Li Wei's tone was polite but emotionless as he precisely pulled Anya through the gap.

Anya was practically being half-embraced by Li Wei as they moved forward, her cheek pressed tightly against his chest. With each step, she could clearly hear his slow heartbeat and feel his scorching body heat, like a furnace, emanating from through his cashmere coat.

Anya's mind went blank for a brief moment.

She smelled the warm scent emanating from Li Wei and felt as if she were a small boat caught in a storm and taken into a sturdy harbor, while the surrounding shoving and noise seemed to fade into the distance.

This kind of queue-jumping behavior inevitably aroused the anger of some people.

"Hey! Where are you going to squeeze in?!" a white man covered in tattoos yelled. "Where are you from? So rude!"

Without turning his head, Li Wei uttered a clearly enunciated and angry phrase: "Baka yarou!"

His confident tone surprised those around him, and before they could react, Li Wei led Anya forward another 3 meters.

"Japanese people have no manners!!!"

Another overweight woman, dressed in a flamboyant manner, was pushed to the side. She screamed in protest, "Damn it, don't you know what first come, first served?"

Li Wei frowned slightly, and as he passed by her, he threw out another "Ah~ Shiba Saigei!" without turning his head.

"Damn Koreans!!!"

Anya buried her face in Li Wei's chest, her shoulders shaking violently—she was trying so hard not to laugh that she was almost suffocating.

And so, with a string of "Baka yarou" and "Ashiba" from one side and another from the other, Li Wei managed to lead Anya across five blocks of crowds and directly to the cordon at the very front of the parade route.

Here, the view suddenly opens up.

A giant Snoopy balloon slowly passed by less than thirty meters above their heads, and ribbon fragments fell like snowflakes onto Anya's black hair.