American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

Li Wei had about 12.5 hours of in-class time per week. This corresponded to 37.5 hours of homework and reading, totaling 50 hours of dedicated effort. That workload was equivalent to a full-time job on Wall Street, not to mention his weekly required reading exceeded 1,000 pages of dense text.

The courses Li Wei chose were: *History of Western Art*, *Institutional Investing & The Yale Model*, *Ethics and Systemic Risk in Financial Markets*, and *Financial Derivatives and Empirical Pricing*.

This was also why the Dean of the School of Management didn’t believe Li Wei could get straight A’s. After all, for a normal student, even with their full effort, simply passing their final exams was an honorable enough achievement. Expecting to get straight A’s while playing in the NFL part-time was unheard of.

While Edward, the Vice Director of Admissions, and the Dean of the School of Management were waiting to watch Li Wei make a fool of himself, Li Wei and Anya arrived at a lecture hall in the Yale Art Gallery, ready for their first university class.

"Liz said she’s coming later," Anya said. "She asked me to save her a seat."

"Liz?" Li Wei asked, surprised. "Since when are you and Miss Elizabeth on such good terms?"

"Hmph," Anya said. "You wouldn’t understand. But—"

She glanced at the people staring at them and tilted her head. "I’m not so sure Liz is going to like this scene."

It turned out that a big star was a big star wherever he went, and one of the top universities in the United States, Yale University, was no exception.

The school had not only underestimated Li Wei but also the level of commotion the NFL’s hottest new star would cause on campus.

With ten minutes still to go before class, the lecture hall was already packed, with students even crowding the aisles to audit the course.

"Oh my God, it’s really him..."

"Think I can get an autograph? Right on my macroeconomics textbook?"

Dozens of pairs of eyes were fixed on Anya’s... no, on Li Wei next to her. Students in the front rows kept looking back. Some of the bolder girls were trying to figure out how to engineer a "chance encounter" to get a photo with him, and not even Anya’s presence could suppress their enthusiasm.

One boy with thick-rimmed glasses, sitting far away from Li Wei, even took out his phone and started sneakily taking pictures of him.

Anya frowned, a flash of annoyance in her grayish-blue eyes. Just as she was about to go over and smash the boy’s phone, Li Wei picked up an eraser and, using [Predetermined Trajectory], gave it a gentle flick.

THWACK!

A crisp impact sound rang out. The eraser struck the boy squarely on the web of his right hand, the one holding the phone.

Li Wei had controlled the force perfectly. It was just enough to make the boy’s hand sting and go numb, causing him to instinctively loosen his grip and drop the phone onto his desk.

"Hey, man. Class is about to start," Li Wei said. "Unless you have explicit written permission from the professor, students are strictly forbidden from taking photos, recording audio or video, or live-streaming in class. You don’t want an academic warning on your first day, do you?"

The boy gave an awkward laugh and put his phone away.

After that incident, the commotion in the classroom finally began to die down.

A few minutes later, Elizabeth walked in just in the nick of time. She sat down next to Li Wei, sandwiching him between herself and Anya.

As Elizabeth took her seat, the oak door at the front of the hall was pushed open. An elderly professor with white hair and tortoiseshell glasses walked to the lectern, and the classroom, which had still been full of whispers, fell completely silent.

"Welcome to *History of Western Art*." The old professor placed a thick stack of notes on the lectern, his voice carrying through the microphone to every corner of the tiered lecture hall. "Over the course of this semester, we will traverse centuries of aesthetic evolution. But for our first lesson, we won’t be discussing Renaissance perspective or Impressionist light and shadow. Instead, we’ll discuss the lifeblood of art: the system of ’patronage’ and capital."

The professor clicked to the next slide, and the coat of arms of the Medici Family appeared on the screen.

"From the fifteenth-century Medici Family to the major art foundations of modern New York, the expansion of power and the flow of money are forever intertwined behind great works of art. How has capital shaped the temples of art we see today? That is our topic for today..."

Li Wei was beginning to understand why Elizabeth had chosen this course.

Just as Li Wei’s mind was recording the professor’s words like a video camera and automatically categorizing them, he felt an extremely faint touch on his right calf.

Through the fabric of his casual pants, something soft was tracing the line of his calf muscle, a phantom-like, gentle slide.

At first, Li Wei assumed it was just because the seating was too cramped and Elizabeth had accidentally bumped him. Considering his larger-than-average frame was a tight fit in the standard university chair, he didn’t pay it any mind and just shifted his leg slightly to the left.

However, the barely-there sensation didn’t disappear.

Li Wei turned his head to the right, his expression unreadable.

Elizabeth was resting her chin on her left hand, while her right was mindlessly doodling circles in her notebook with a Montblanc fountain pen.

Sensing his gaze, she turned her head slightly. A cunning glint flashed in her beautiful eyes before she blinked innocently.

She leaned in close to Li Wei’s ear and whispered, her voice a breathy tone only he could hear, "What’s wrong? Is he talking too fast? Is there something you don’t understand?"

Her warm breath tickled the side of his neck, carrying the faint, expensive scent of a custom-blended perfume. Anya, sitting to Li Wei’s left, seemed to notice something and shot a suspicious glance their way.

Li Wei pulled his gaze away, shook his head, and turned his attention back to the front.

A flash of disappointment crossed Elizabeth’s eyes. Just as she was about to pull her leg back, she felt a sudden resistance—Li Wei had scissored his legs together, clamping her ankle between them for a moment before letting go.

Elizabeth felt her heart leap into her throat. Li Wei’s actual girlfriend was right there, yet here she was, her supposed best friend, deliberately stirring up trouble like this.

Satisfied, she retracted her foot and sat up straight again.

About ten minutes later, the professor at the lectern was analyzing how industrial tycoons of America’s Gilded Age in the nineteenth century used frenzied purchases of European art to legitimize their status.

The screen of Li Wei’s phone, which was on his desk, lit up.

Li Wei picked up his phone and saw a message from Elizabeth, who, on the surface, was diligently taking notes beside him:

Elizabeth: I think I’ve figured out why Charles Mellon has been targeting me recently.

Li Wei: Why?

Elizabeth: Because another branch of the family is preparing a takeover bid. A huge amount of capital will be injected into philanthropy and cultural sectors. The official press release will say it’s to enhance the Mellon Family’s influence in the modern art world, but the core logic is to get a massive tax deduction at the end of the year.

Elizabeth: His Manhattan Art Center wants to swallow up this entire pool of funds and consolidate all the accumulated resources under his control.

Elizabeth: That’s why he’s targeting me—to take me out of the running early.

Li Wei’s eyes narrowed slightly as he read the text on his phone’s screen.

At that exact moment, the professor’s voice drifted from the lectern: "...And so, students, when you see the wealthy throwing around vast sums of money to establish art centers, don’t just see the philanthropy. You must also see the financial statements and the meticulous calculations of the tax attorneys behind it all."

Li Wei was about to ask her how she planned to fight back when another message from Elizabeth came in:

Elizabeth: His Manhattan Art Center is also holding an exhibition on a Friday afternoon in early October. I’m planning to buy a new dress, but I’m a little indecisive. Want to help me pick one out?