Chapter 195: Chapter 124: So You Can Fight? What Damn Good Is That?

Ascending the slightly worn but spotlessly clean stairs, the clamor from outside seemed to be sealed off by the heavy wooden door.

In the second-floor reception room, the heating was turned up high, and the air was filled with the faint scent of sandalwood and aged tangerine peel pu’er tea.

Lin Daohang, dressed in a dark red Tang suit, was sitting before a tea table, brewing tea. Upon seeing Li Wei enter, this figure—a man who could make Chinatown tremble with a stomp of his foot—immediately put down his teapot and stood up.

"Mr. Li! Happy New Year!" In this different setting, the cloying hypocrisy and sycophancy that had so annoyed Li Wei last time were gone. "And this is—"

"Anya," Li Wei introduced simply. "My girlfriend."

He didn’t mention her background.

"A pleasure, a pleasure! A talented man and a beautiful woman—truly a perfect match!" Lin Daohang’s English was heavy with an accent, but his pleasantries were flawless.

He glanced at Anya’s clothes, which were obviously of the highest quality, and his estimation of Li Wei rose another notch.

Designer brands can be faked, but the texture of the fabric and a person’s aura are difficult to counterfeit.

Anya’s expression and bearing immediately marked her as a lady from a wealthy family, leaving him no choice but to treat her with the utmost respect.

"Please, have a seat. Both of you." Lin Daohang gestured, his movements fluid and graceful. He placed three small cups, like mutton-fat jade, in the center of the tea table. Scalding tea was poured, the amber liquid swirling in the cups. "This is a fifteen-year-old Lao Ban Zhang. It’ll warm you up."

Li Wei didn’t stand on ceremony and pulled Anya down to sit. Although Anya knew little about the Chinese tea ceremony, her excellent upbringing allowed her to maintain a proper smile as she accepted the cup with both hands and softly murmured her thanks.

"I imagine, Chairman Lin, that you didn’t send me so many expensive ingredients and hire a great chef just for my benefit," Li Wei said softly. "Let’s not beat around the bush. You must need something from me, right?"

Lin Daohang’s hand, in the middle of preparing the tea, paused for a moment. He then shook his head with a bitter smile. Setting down the tea set, the practiced social smile on his face slowly faded, replaced by a deep exhaustion and gravity.

"Mr. Li, you certainly are a direct man," Lin Daohang sighed. He didn’t answer directly. Instead, he stood up, walked to the window, and pointed outside.

It faced a vacant lot on the edge of Chinatown, where one could see a rusty chain-link fence and accumulated snow.

"Mr. Li, do you know that piece of land?" Lin Daohang asked.

"Looks like an abandoned lot," Li Wei said, walking over for a glance.

"It used to be an abandoned lot, an asset left over from the old New York Railway Bureau," Lin Daohang said, his voice low. "But last week, the mayor’s office issued a new building permit. Mayor Holmes plans to build two things there."

He held up two fingers, which seemed almost glaring in the dim light.

"First, a ’Transitional Housing Center for Released Felons’ with 500 beds. Second, right next to our Chinatown’s archway, two free outdoor basketball courts and a skate park."

Li Wei raised an eyebrow.

"I heard Mayor Holmes mention something about this at the dinner party the other day," he said. "But I didn’t realize it was this close."

This wasn’t just close; it was practically a part of Chinatown.

"Everyone knows what a ’transitional center’ means. Drug dealers, gangs, and vagrants will multiply. And those two basketball courts..." Lin Daohang sighed. "Holmes deliberately chose a spot closest to our residential buildings. They’re for those n*****s. High-powered speakers, all-night noise, marijuana and drugs everywhere, and conflicts that could erupt at any moment."

"I’d bet that within a month of them being built, there will be at least ten bloody conflicts in Chinatown," he said, looking out at the wasteland. "He’s doing this to deliberately force us out. This is a new Chinese Exclusion Act."

"Then why don’t you fight back?" Li Wei looked at him. "From what I know, he’s looking out for the Black community, but that doesn’t mean the Chinese should be bullied this badly."

"The Chinese have never had any status in the United States of America, especially now that the Democratic Party is pushing democracy and diversity so hard that Black people are walking all over white people," Lin Daohang sneered. "Anyone who objects, anyone who expresses dissatisfaction, is accused of discriminating against the poor, discriminating against minorities, of being a racist..."

"Aren’t the Chinese also a minority group?" Li Wei asked curiously. "Why haven’t they received any benefits after the new president took office?"

"Mr. Li, you have to understand, even among minorities, some are more equal than others," Lin Daohang said, turning to look back toward Chinatown. "You’re a straightforward man, so I’ll be blunt. I am hoping—no, begging—that you will help us."

"Me...?" Li Wei pointed at himself. "That was the first time I’d ever met Mayor Holmes."

"Mr. Li, you don’t realize the influence you have in New York," Lin Daohang’s speech quickened. "You are a rising star. Here in the United States of America, your influence surpasses that of Liu Xiang in hurdles, Yao Ming in basketball, and Zhang Zhi Lei in boxing. Here, Italians and Black people all love to watch football. They’re all saying you’re sure to be the Giants’ new star, an unprecedented super-genius. You’re the one Nike and Adidas are fighting over."

"Holmes can ignore a petition from several thousand Chinese, because—I’ll be honest," he pointed toward Chinatown, "at least thirty percent of the people here don’t have legal status. Besides, Chinatown only represents a few thousand votes, which is nothing compared to the millions of n*****s he’s trying to please."

At this, Lin Daohang stood up, straightened his collar, and actually gave Li Wei a deep bow.