Chapter 568 - 371: Flaunting Wealth

Chapter 568: Chapter 371: Flaunting Wealth

Chen Haisheng steadily parked the Cadillac Escalade in front of a members-only restaurant near the intersection of Fifth Avenue and 50th Street. The establishment had no conspicuous signage, only a bronze plaque on the wall engraved with dark green initials.

"Brother Haisheng, go ahead and attend to your business first," Li Wei said. "Come pick me up after I call you." With that, he pushed the door open and stepped out of the vehicle.

After the doorman held the door open for him, John Mara’s personal assistant was waiting in the foyer.

"Mr. Li Wei, due to health reasons..." she paused before continuing. "He couldn’t make it in person. However, he has already spoken with Mr. Hamilton in advance.

"He is waiting for you in a private room on the second floor," she added, handing over a business card.

"How has Mr. Mala’s health been lately?" Li Wei asked after taking the card.

"Passable, I suppose," the assistant replied. Her eyes dimmed slightly, but she maintained a polite smile. "Compared to other cancer patients, he is doing quite well."

Li Wei nodded. "Please schedule a time with Mr. John Mara for me. Once he feels a bit better, I will come to see him."

He wondered if Knight’s Light (Silver) would be of any help against cancer. Even if it wasn’t, Li Wei hoped the old man would suffer a little less pain.

Li Wei followed a waiter into a small private room on the second floor. The room wasn’t large. It featured dark walnut walls and a floor-to-ceiling window that offered a view of the Fifth Avenue nightscape, where the taillights of taxis on the street formed a long, glowing orange dragon.

The editor-in-chief of the New York Times, Michael Hamilton, had already arrived. It seemed he placed great importance on this meeting. He was in his early sixties, with meticulously combed gray hair, wearing a dark blue flannel suit.

"Mr. Li Wei," he stood up and extended his hand proactively. "John has told me a lot about you."

"The honor is mine," Li Wei smiled and shook his hand. The moment he sat down, he quietly activated Adaptability (Bronze).

The two men first chatted about a few inconsequential topics. Three minutes later, Li Wei noticed that the hand Hamilton used to hold his wine glass had relaxed, and his shoulders had slumped slightly.

"Mr. Hamilton," Li Wei took the initiative to cut to the chase. "I’m actually not just here for a meal today."

"I figured as much." A faint smile played at the corners of Hamilton’s mouth. "John Mara called my boss, Arthur Sulzberger, to personally arrange for Li Wei—the Super Bowl MVP, founder of LW beverages, future Hollywood superstar, and a man worth 3 billion USD—to treat me to dinner. It couldn’t possibly be just to discuss the recent weather in New York, could it?"

Li Wei rubbed his nose and chuckled. "Since you’re being so direct, I won’t beat around the bush.

"I heard that your paper is currently working on a feature regarding the Delaware Free Port?"

A sharp glint suddenly flashed across Hamilton’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a strange sense of relaxation. He frowned, seemingly a bit confused as to why he suddenly felt the young man in front of him was trustworthy regarding such a sensitive issue.

"You are very well-informed." He set down his wine glass. "This assignment is strictly confidential. No more than five people within the New York Times know about it."

"So your paper is indeed working on it?" Li Wei pressed.

"We are," Hamilton nodded. "And it will definitely be published."

When he said those words, his tone was incredibly firm, as if God Himself had called him last night to instruct him to take it seriously.

Li Wei fell silent for a moment.

"May I ask why?" he finally said. "Do you know who stands behind the Delaware Free Port?"

Hamilton hesitated again, but ultimately, Adaptability (Bronze) gained the upper hand. He nodded.

"Of course," he replied. "The Mellon Family. To be precise, it’s Alexander Mellon, the actual controller of the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation."

"So, the Mellon Family’s political influence in the United States of America is not to be underestimated, and your paper, along with the Sulzberger family, has always had dealings with them," Li Wei pointed out. "Why now?"

Hamilton stared at Li Wei for a few seconds before suddenly sighing.

"Li Wei, anything I say to you today, outside of this room, I will deny to the bitter end."

"Please, go ahead."

"We didn’t proactively dig up this topic," Hamilton said in a low voice. "Someone came to us—no, someone directly leaked it to Sulzberger."

"Who?" Li Wei frowned. "Do you know?"

"I don’t know," Hamilton smiled bitterly and spread his hands. "But what I can tell you is that someone informed Arthur Sulzberger, and for some unknown reason, he suddenly made up his mind to go to war against Alexander Mellon."

Li Wei thought for a moment, then raised his glass.

"The food tonight is quite good," he remarked. "Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Hamilton."

"We’re all friends here," Hamilton clinked glasses with him. "I wonder if I might have the honor of getting an autographed photo from you? My youngest son is a fan of the Giants."

"No problem," Li Wei agreed. "Let’s exchange contact information and addresses. I’ll have someone deliver it to your home later."

On the way back, Li Wei silently watched the flowing New York nightscape outside the window. The New York Times would definitely publish it. This meant the news could be kept hidden for a month at most before Ronan Mellon found out about it...

While Li Wei was still deep in thought, his phone suddenly rang.

...

Manhattan’s Meatpacking District was a famous street renowned for its nightclubs. A long line stretched outside Nebula. It was composed entirely of twenty-something young adults dressed in various skirts and camisoles.

Li Wei got out of the car, walked up to the security guard at the door, and whispered a few words. The Black security guard recognized Li Wei’s face and his eyes abruptly widened. However, after seeing Li Wei make a shushing gesture, he nodded excitedly. He unhooked the red velvet rope.

"Right this way, sir."

The young people waiting in the other line couldn’t recognize Li Wei in the dim lighting and loudly cursed the bouncer for letting him in.

After entering the nightclub, Li Wei walked down a narrow hallway lined with purple LED strips as deafening music slammed into him. The massive dance floor was packed with people. Laser lights sliced through the fog and sweat, carving out beam after beam of light.

The VIP area was situated on a mezzanine on the second floor, separated by a semi-transparent glass wall. A group of young people was fooling around in the central booth.

A man was sprawled out in the very center of a black leather sofa. His shirt was mostly unbuttoned, his tie tossed who-knows-where. Holding a glass filled with a liquid of indeterminate color, he had his arms around two women wearing only skimpy slip dresses while calling out to girls passing by.

"Hey! Babes!" he yelled at them. "Come over here and join the fun!"

"Sorry, but you already have company," the two passing girls glanced at him. "We’re heading over there."

"Oh, don’t be like that," he whined. "I’m the most generous man in all of New York! Plus, a huge superstar is coming over later."

"Oh?" The two girls were clearly tempted and started walking toward the man’s direction.

However, the occupants of the neighboring booth, seeing their catch slip away, stood up in dissatisfaction. A young white man wearing an embroidered Gucci Jacket stood up. Three others of a similar caliber were seated around him.

"You’re crossing the line, old man, aren’t you?" he shouted unhappily.

"They can sit wherever they want." The man looked down his nose at him. "Land of the free. Understand?"

As he spoke, he snapped his fingers. The bodyguard behind him pulled two stacks of USD from a bag.

"Take this, babes," he tossed the two stacks of USD to the girls who had sat down on his side. "This is your appearance fee."

"Showing off your wealth, huh?" The guy in the Gucci Jacket stood up, walked over to Alister, and looked him up and down. His gaze lingered on the white dress shirt for a few seconds.

"Bro, I’m not looking down on you," he gestured to his buddies. "But honestly, that whole outfit you’re wearing probably isn’t even worth as much as one of my necklaces."

The man scoffed and, with the support of the two women, stood up. He walked over to the guy in the Gucci Jacket and looked him up and down as well.

"I am showing off," he said with a cheeky grin. "What do you want to bet on?"

"Let’s see who has more money in their account," the guy in the Gucci Jacket challenged. "How about it?"

"I don’t want to bully you," the man sneered again. "If the cash balance in my account isn’t five times yours, I’ll give you all my money right now. I won’t keep a single cent.

"But if my balance is more than five times yours, you’re paying for everyone’s tab at Nebula tonight. Deal?" he added playfully.

The girls watching let out screams and started jeering.

"Whoa!"

"Take the bet!"

"Open it! Open it up and show us!"

The guy in the Gucci Jacket looked at the atmosphere around him and met the encouraging gazes of his buddies. Gritting his teeth, he pulled out his phone.

"Fine, let’s bet. Who’s afraid of who?"

He opened an app interface and flashed the screen at the man. The man took a look. It was a seven-digit number starting with a 7.

"See that?" The guy in the Gucci Jacket looked triumphant. "Over 7 million USD in cash. And that’s just in one of my accounts."

He looked provocatively at the man. "Your turn. Let’s see if you can pull out 35 million USD in cash."

The man slowly pulled a phone from his pants pocket. "Come on," he said with a smirk. "Watch closely."

The guy in the Gucci Jacket cast a careless glance at it, then his eyes suddenly widened. His lips parted, closed, and parted again, but he couldn’t utter a single word.

"Trying to flex your wealth on me, huh?"

The man snatched a stack of USD from his bodyguard’s hand. It looked like at least a hundred 50 USD bills. He ruthlessly smacked the stack of cash right across the guy in the Gucci Jacket’s face.

"Take it," his smile remained unchanged. "This is your appearance fee. Now go pay the tab for the whole club."

"I recognize you!" One of the Gucci Jacket guy’s friends, whose eyes were a bit blurry, stared for a long while before finally recognizing him. "You’re Alister Mellon!"

At this moment, the guy in the Gucci Jacket wished this was just a nightmare. The entire New York nightclub scene knew the name Alister Mellon. But he never expected to run into him here.

Alister was about to say something more when a voice rang out.

"It seems I’ve come at a bad time?"

"Whoa!" Alister jumped in fright. He turned around and yelled, "It’s you! You’re here! You’re finally here!"

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, he dropped to his knees with a THUD, shuffled over to Li Wei, and hugged his legs.

Li Wei looked down at him. "Let go of my legs."

The girls nearby and the friends of the guy in the Gucci Jacket were all dumbfounded. Someone even pulled out a phone, ready to take a picture.

"Put your phone away."

Li Wei’s voice wasn’t loud, but a wave of chills washed over the hearts of everyone present. No one dared to disobey.

"All of you, leave first," he said, looking at the other people in the VIP area.

No one dared to stay.

A minute later, the VIP area was left with only Li Wei and Alister, who had just passed his manic phase and was now in a state of zen-like clarity.

"Speak," Li Wei said, sitting across from him. "What did you want to see me about?"