Chapter 260 - 162: You Broke the Rules of the Street
"Now?" Li Wei glanced at his watch. "Should I come find you in two hours? Or will you come here?"
"I’ll come over," Lin Daohang said immediately. "I should be there in about an hour."
"Perfect," Li Wei said with a smile, opening the door to let the building’s in-house culinary team in with their ingredients. "Chairman Lin can join us for a meal when he arrives."
By the time Lin Daohang’s car, a Lexus LX600, arrived at Li Wei’s apartment building, exactly fifty minutes had passed.
"Wait for me downstairs," Lin Daohang said to Chen Haisheng. "Don’t forget to get something to eat."
Chen Haisheng was training for the upcoming New York Golden Gloves competition. He was still on the lean side for his weight class, nowhere near the upper limit, so he was working on bulking up.
Hearing Lin Daohang’s instruction, Chen Haisheng smiled. "Got it, Uncle Lin."
Lin Daohang nodded, grabbed a gift bag from the seat beside him, and got out of the car.
When he rang the doorbell and was shown in by a white man, the scene before him gave him pause.
In the apartment’s open-plan kitchen, two chefs with the building management company’s logo on their chests were preparing the day’s ingredients. The rich, fatty aroma of steak lingered in the air.
In another corner, two blonde housekeepers in uniform were carefully hanging freshly laundered and ironed suits in the walk-in closet.
He looked at Li Wei, who was sitting by the floor-to-ceiling windows, idly flipping through a linguistics textbook. A hint of envy appeared in his eyes.
"It’s been a while, Mr. Li," Lin Daohang said, being the first to smile as he approached. "I’m truly envious of the life you lead."
After shaking Li Wei’s hand, he sat down on the living room sofa.
Li Wei put down his textbook and smiled. "Chairman Lin, it’s not like you’re short on cash. After all your years of hard work in New York, you have plenty of properties and cash flow. If you really wanted to experience this kind of service, spending an extra few tens of thousands of USD a month would be a drop in the bucket for you."
"Mr. Li, the math may work out that way," Lin Daohang said with a wry smile, shaking his head, "but in this country, some things can’t be solved with just cash flow."
He gestured toward the chefs and housekeepers. "For a service like this in Manhattan, about how much does it run? If you don’t mind my asking."
This was a topic Li Wei was happy to discuss.
"It’s not cheap," he said. "The three daily meals alone, including labor and ingredients, cost 20,000 USD a month. As for housekeeping and laundry, that’s about 2,800 USD a month—and get this, for the laundry, they just wash, iron, and hang my clothes. They come once a week, and they charge me 700 USD every time."
"That’s not cheap at all," Lin Daohang remarked. "Your expenses here must be quite high."
"Three parking spots for 3,600 USD, car insurance is around the same price, plus utilities, miscellaneous costs, and having someone come for watch maintenance," Li Wei said after a moment’s thought. "All told, my fixed monthly expenses are somewhere between 90,000 and 110,000 USD. And that’s if I don’t buy anything extra."
"That befits your status," Lin Daohang said, shaking his head. "But for someone like me, it’s not an option. We come from Chinatown, and in the eyes of those politicians, we’re still just peasants with muddy legs. If Mayor Holmes found out I employ an entire team of local white staff—having white people cook for me and do my laundry every day—I’m afraid it would make those politicians and powerful businessmen quite uncomfortable."
"In the American social hierarchy, Chinese-Americans can be engineers or fund managers, but not aristocrats who give the orders," he sighed abruptly. "I tried hiring a white butler and security team when I was younger, but it just led to endless covert friction and passive-aggressive behavior. Even the local community board was constantly finding fault with me."
Li Wei raised an eyebrow. "Something like that really happens?"
"Absolutely," Lin Daohang said, looking at Li Wei with a newfound awe in his gaze. "But you’re a superstar, revered by these Westerners who worship individual power. Serving you is completely different from serving me. Because you’re a superstar, when they serve you, they feel like they’re basking in your reflected glory, that they’ve gained entry into the world of the upper class."
Lin Daohang’s speech managed to both air his grievances and flatter Li Wei, which Li Wei found quite gratifying.
"I wouldn’t say I’m part of the upper class just yet..." Li Wei chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "Let’s eat first, Chairman Lin. Go on, enjoy the service."
"Then I’ll be enjoying this thanks to you, Mr. Li," Lin Daohang said, rising to sit across from him. "By the way, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s about Miss Elizabeth Mellon."
Li Wei was cutting into a tomahawk steak. He replied without looking up, "What is it? Why not tell her directly?"
"I’m hardly in a position to speak directly with Miss Elizabeth," Lin Daohang said with a bitter laugh. "It’s about her gallery."
"Oh?" Li Wei looked up at Lin Daohang. "Is someone planning to cause trouble on opening day?"
Lin Daohang glanced toward the culinary team as they exited, then nodded, his expression turning serious. "Just a few hours ago, someone came to Chinatown. They were very roundabout, going through an intermediary to find one of my men. They offered a considerable sum, asking us to cause some damage at Miss Elizabeth’s art gallery on its grand opening day."