People in America: My Uncle Don Quixote

Chapter 93: I got the offer, but not completely (Seeking monthly votes).

general.

This is Li Wei's review of the winter menu at Nobu, a high-end Japanese restaurant where the average cost per person is over $500.

It's not that it tastes bad; in fact, you could say it tastes pretty good. The fish tastes like fish, and the shrimp tastes like shrimp.

However, the portion was far too small. When Li Wei picked up the sashimi with his chopsticks, it was so thin that it was almost translucent. Apart from making him feel hungrier the more he ate, it did not bring him any real satisfaction.

Elizabeth, who was standing nearby, saw this and laughed as she pushed the black cod in front of her towards her.

"It was definitely my mistake," she said with a laugh. "I overlooked the appetite of a football player. Next time we should go for steak."

"Thank you," Levi said without hesitation, accepting the plate Elizabeth offered. "By the way, won't this meal cost you too much of your trust money?"

"These are expenses related to social interactions, and I don't need to worry about them," Elizabeth explained. "Family offices don't accept personal things like buying bags or renting high-end jewelry."

"It sounds a lot like a company," Li Wei commented.

“That’s right, such a large family,” Elizabeth agreed, “each family member is like an employee in the family, and even a little extra money requires expenditure and reporting.”

""

A moment later, a man dressed in a pristine white chef's uniform and wearing a tall hat strode out of the open kitchen, attracting everyone's attention as he walked.

High-end Japanese restaurants like Nobu, in terms of both average price and target customers, are destined to be out of reach for ordinary people; their clientele is primarily elites and the wealthy.

The fact that the head chef would come out of the kitchen to meet someone is usually a privilege reserved for big stars and celebrities. When the chef appeared, the surrounding diners stopped talking and craned their necks like giraffes, eager to see which big star or high-ranking official had arrived.

The chef strode up to Elizabeth, and the waiters standing around immediately stepped back respectfully.

"Ms. Mellon, it's a rare treat to have you here," the head chef said, giving Mellon a standard Japanese bow. "Hearing you were coming, I came to check on you. Although I didn't personally prepare today's black cod, I kept a close eye on the cooking time. I wonder if it suits your taste? Or do you have any suggestions for improvement?"

Elizabeth put down her silver chopsticks and touched her lips with a napkin.

"Mr. Matsuhisa," Elizabeth smiled politely, "I trust Nobu's consistent quality, but I probably can't offer any feedback today because I don't have much of an appetite, so I'll give this dish to my companion."

Chef Songji was stunned for a moment, then glanced at Li Wei and his physique before immediately realizing what was going on.

"It was my mistake," he bowed again. "We just received a five-star snow crab today and are planning to develop a brand new dish—A5 Wagyu beef and crab fried rice. I wonder if this gentleman and Ms. Mellon would be willing to give it a try and offer their critique?"

“Don’t look at me,” Elizabeth said. “Look at my friend.”

"One serving, please," Li Wei said, still somewhat unsatisfied. "The taste is really good, but there's just not enough."

"I'll prepare it for you right away," Matsuhisa said with a smile as he wrote down the order. "Making the guests feel satisfied is the best reward for a chef."

After writing down the list, he didn't leave immediately. Instead, he stood there rubbing his hands together, a hint of cautious probing in his expression.

"Also—Ms. Mellon," the head chef looked at Elizabeth, his tone becoming even more respectful, "since we have the honor of meeting you today, and having the opportunity to try out new dishes, I wonder if—I mean, if it's convenient, could you please take a photo with our restaurant team? Even just a side profile would be fine; I'd like to hang it on the honor wall of our New York flagship store."

The atmosphere in the air changed subtly in that instant.

Elizabeth maintained her gentle smile, but the warmth in her eyes suddenly dropped.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Matsuhisa," she said, "today is just a private gathering, and I don't like to be disturbed. Please understand."

Although he spoke politely, his tone revealed no politeness whatsoever.

The chef's smile froze for a moment, and even a fine layer of sweat appeared on his forehead.

"Ah...yes, yes, I'm so sorry, I was being presumptuous," the chef hurriedly bowed again, bending even lower than before, almost at a ninety-degree angle. "Please wait a moment, the fried rice will be here shortly. I will have this meal served on a waiver as an apology for disturbing your meal."

"No need," Elizabeth picked up her teacup again, took a small sip, and said, "You can just put it on the tab."

"Yes, yes." The chef felt as if he had been granted a pardon, and backed away from the dining area before daring to turn around and leave.

"His attitude changed so quickly," Li Wei said. "It felt like he was about to kneel down and apologize."

"If I had looked any worse, he might have actually done it," Elizabeth said with a smile. "It's a shame my family wouldn't allow it, otherwise I could have charged them a lot of money just for taking pictures with people."

"I had hardly ever heard of your surname before coming to America," Levi nodded, "I only knew things like Buffett and Bill Gates."

“Let’s have dinner together sometime,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “For example, at the Met Gala, the first Monday in May every year, you can meet Bill Gates in person and maybe even have dinner with him alone.”

"Does Miss Mellon have that much influence?" Levi asked. "She even got me to dine with the world's richest man?"

'

"Just call me Elizabeth, we're friends now, aren't we?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes when she heard "the world's richest man." "Personally, I wouldn't say I have a very deep relationship with Mr. Gates, it's just that the Mellon family is deeply involved in the art world."

Li Wei knew she was being modest; the Mellon family was far more than just "deeply connected" with the arts.

The National Gallery of Art was even founded by Andrew W. Mellon, the founder of the Mellon family. More than 100 years ago, he controlled Alcoa, Gulf Oil and five steel companies through Mellon Bank, establishing what was then the largest industrial and commercial conglomerate empire in the United States.

He himself served as Secretary of the Treasury for three consecutive terms—Harding, Coolidge, and Hoover—and even spearheaded the postwar reform of the American tax system.

And this is something the Mellon family had already accomplished 100 years ago. Even if I were to be completely convinced, I would never believe that they would have remained stagnant for the past 100 years and had not continued to secretly establish themselves as America developed.

As they were talking, the waiter came over with a large plate of fried rice.

It seems that Chef Matsuhisa personally cooked this fried rice. The A5 Wagyu beef was cut into even small cubes to provide the beef's fat and aroma. Mixed with sweet snow crab meat and rice that had been cooled and then cooked, and coated with golden egg liquid, the double attack of ingredients and technique exudes a rich aroma that makes your mouth water.

Just as Li Wei was enjoying his meal, a middle-aged man at a nearby table was looking at them with disbelief.

"What's he doing here?" Julian, dressed in a suit, muttered to himself. "That can't be right, it's only been a short time."

"Who are you talking to, honey?" the blonde woman across from him asked, disgruntled. "And did you even see the TikTok video I sent you this morning?"

"You mean the video you sent me this morning of eight kittens lining up to fall into the water? Of course I saw it," Julian replied casually. "You also told me that you're in your luteal phase and have been feeling down lately, which is why I brought you to this upscale restaurant that costs $500 per person."

Although he was very reluctant to believe that the poor boy he had seen two months ago was now in such a high-end restaurant, he had to admit that he would not mistake Li Wei's highly recognizable and memorable face.

However, the person he was eating with was cleverly hidden by the screen, making it impossible for him to see who that person was.

But he thought, "They're definitely not ordinary people. No one is qualified to have Nobu's head chef come out to greet them."

"What are you looking at?" The woman turned to look at Li Wei, puzzled, then her eyes lit up. "Is he some kind of celebrity? Do you know him?"

“He’s not a celebrity, honey,” Julian said, “but I do know him.”

He secretly made a note of this matter, and after thinking about it, he went back to inquire about the recent situation of Livy and Don Quixote.

After watching Elizabeth get into her very understated Range Rover SV, Li Wei suddenly received a call from Don Quixote: "It's settled," he said. "Come back and pack your things, get ready to move."

"So eager?" Li Wei asked. "Aren't you still watching?"

"Lily has quite a lot of stuff," Don Quixote said. "She needs a separate room."

One day later, at Dyke Heights.

Although it's not far from Beiling Ridge, the atmosphere here is completely different.

If Bell Ridge is filled with the everyday life and bustle of working-class Irish and Italian residents, then Dyker Heights is more like a standard, affluent middle-class community.

The streets are lined with tall oak trees, and the row houses made of red brick are neat and uniform, with each house having its lawn meticulously manicured. This place is famous throughout the United States for its extremely extravagant Christmas decorations every year, and Don Quixote's decision to move here may well have been motivated by a desire to build a good relationship with the local homeowners' association.

Don Quixote rented a townhouse near 82nd Street for $6000 a month.

Although it's rented, the house has a separate semi-underground garage, a small but charming backyard, and four separate bedrooms.

Lily stood at the doorway of the south-facing bedroom on the second floor, looking at the pink wallpaper covering the walls and the toys she had brought from home. She cheered and jumped onto the bed.

Li Wei also went to his bedroom, watching the sunlight stream through the blinds and evenly spread across the floor. From the window, he could even see the spire of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge in the distance.

As Christmas draws ever closer, good things seem to be happening one after another.

The day after they moved in, an express mail was delivered to Dyke Heights.

Li Wei had just returned from his morning run, carrying chapatitas he'd bought from a nearby Italian bakery, when he found this envelope in the mailbox bearing the dark blue logo and the famous school emblem shield.

Upon opening the envelope, what was inside was not a thin sheet of paper, but a thick set of documents. On top of it was an admission notice printed in gold lettering, along with a detailed list of financial aid.

"Oh dear," Li Wei said deliberately, "I'm having trouble seeing clearly. I can't make out what's written on it. Uncle Don Quixote, would you like to take a look?"

"You brat," Don Quixote muttered, "Lily, read the contents of this book to Brother Li Wei."

Lily took the thick stack of documents, cleared her throat with a serious air, and loudly read in a childish voice: "Dear Mr. Levi... Congratulations! The Yale University Undergraduate Admissions Office is very pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to the Finance Department... Given... [I don't recognize this], your... [I don't recognize this either]... the school has decided to award you a full scholarship... [I don't recognize this]..."

""

"Fine, give it to me," Don Quixote said, taking the document. "Full financial aid, including full tuition, room and board, food, and the maximum living allowance?"

"Hmm," Li Wei nodded, "That's right."

"So everything's settled?" Don Quixote asked. "Shall we pop the champagne now?"

"I'll have to wait a bit longer," Li Wei explained. "Because I haven't signed with the NFL yet. If John Mara doesn't manage to get the NFL sorted out, I'll still have to switch to the NCAA route. Yale will have to take back my scholarship, and at most they'll give me some stipend."

"It's alright," Don Quixote waved his hand dismissively. "If Yale doesn't give you a scholarship, I can sell my shares in that Bronx building, and that'll cover at least three years of tuition. It's fine, go for it!"

Li Wei's phone suddenly rang; it was Tony, the head coach of Yale University, calling.

"Good morning, Levi. I hope I didn't bother you," Tony said. "I just wanted to let you know that your full scholarship offer has been sent to your new address."

"I just received it," Levi thanked Tony, "Thank you for letting me know."

"But what you told me before, that you wanted your girlfriend, Miss Anna, to enroll with you, is a little difficult to handle," Tony said. "Miss Anna wasn't very well prepared during the early application phase, and besides, her father, Mr. Sergei, is a bit sensitive because of his nationality and international reputation, so the Yale Board of Trustees was originally unwilling to accept her application."

"But what happened?" Levi noticed Tony's words. "But because of me, she passed?"

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