American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

Anyone who’s ever planned an event knows that organizing a high-end cocktail party is no easy feat.

There was the venue, the invitations, the lighting design, the selection of drinks, the traffic flow, and so much more.

Don Quixote and Chen Haisheng had been running around for ages looking for a venue. Finally, on the advice of John Mara and the event contractors, they chose a historic building in Manhattan not open to the public as the location for the party.

If an ordinary person were to naively email the owners of a historic building like that, they most likely wouldn’t even get a response.

But thanks to Li Wei’s JPMorgan Chase Private Bank Palladium Card, his client manager would find a way to solve any problem he had.

The card might not be as famous as the American Express Centurion Black Card, but it actually offered more access and higher-level privileges.

Once the location was secured, the contractors began designing the flow of traffic: the main entrance and red carpet were for the flashing cameras, while a discreet VIP entrance in the basement with a private elevator was reserved for the true heavyweights.

Li Wei sent out invitations to the big shots he knew, along with some to fill out the guest list. Two weeks was a tight schedule, but with Li Wei’s budget hitting one million USD, the contractors were expected to work hard for it.

On the day of the party, Li Wei couldn’t help but marvel at the truth of the old saying: you get what you pay for.

The massive crystal chandelier on the vaulted ceiling extravagantly displayed its 19th-century antique charm, while a string ensemble hired by the contractors played soothing classical music from a semi-open terrace on the second floor.

Elizabeth walked over holding a glass of champagne. She was wearing the fiery red gown they had discussed before, which accentuated her figure perfectly, making her incredibly eye-catching in the crowd.

"Good evening, Li Wei. Anya, you look beautiful today," Elizabeth said with a smile.

"And this champagne is lovely. I really like the taste," Anya said, letting go of Li Wei’s arm to link hers with Elizabeth’s. "Liz, perfect timing. That 50 million USD fund we talked about... my father’s side just finished the compliance review. The money can be in your foundation’s account by next week..."

Elizabeth’s eyes lit up. The two immediately huddled to the side, whispering about the specific details of bridge financing and tax avoidance.

Seeing this, Li Wei tactfully turned and walked toward the center of the party.

In a central booth, the absolute heart of this high-society affair, New York Giants owner John Mara was chatting and laughing with a vigorous, gray-haired old gentleman.

"Look who it is, our superstar!" John Mara boomed with laughter the moment he saw Li Wei, beckoning him over and patting him warmly on the shoulder. "Li Wei, you’ve put on a great party! It’s perfect since the Giants have a bye week, so everyone can really relax."

Mara turned to the old gentleman, his tone dripping with unabashed pride:

"Woody, you know, when you have a Quarterback who can throw for over 300 yards and four passing touchdowns in a single game, the competition starts to feel a little dull. Oh, sorry, I forgot you Jets are still struggling for a playoff spot. I heard your starting Quarterback got sacked again last week? What a shame."

The Jets and the Giants share MetLife Stadium, and John Mara and Woody Johnson were constantly competing behind the scenes. In previous years, when the Giants had a disastrous record, Woody Johnson had never missed a chance to mock John Mara.

Woody Johnson didn’t get angry at Mara’s taunts. Their private friendship went back over 40 years, and they were long accustomed to this kind of competitive banter.

"John, flaunting your luck isn’t exactly a brilliant business tactic," Woody Johnson snorted, extending a hand to Li Wei. "Li Wei, a pleasure to meet you. Woody Johnson, chairman of the Jets and the Johnson Group."

He pointed at himself, then glanced at John Mara. "This old coot won’t be around much longer, and he’s got a terrible temper. If you’re ever unhappy, the doors to the Jets are always open for you. If you’re willing, I can pay your buyout clause after this season."

"Go fack yourself, you old bastard," John Mara roared with laughter. "I can still hold on for a while."

Li Wei also smiled as he shook the hand of the tycoon, whose net worth exceeded three billion USD, and politely declined. "Thank you, Mr. Woody Johnson. It’s just that my boss treats me quite well. I recently managed to snag a year-round private jet and helicopter commuting package from him."

"That’s right, give it up, Woody," John Mara said, putting an arm around Li Wei. "I’m going to leave the Giants to him in my will."

The three of them burst into laughter.

"Li Wei, let’s be serious for a moment," said Woody Johnson. "I’ve seen the analysis reports on you. Given your physical prowess and influence, have you considered starting something?"

"That’s exactly what I was thinking, Mr. Johnson," Li Wei said. "I want to start with something asset-light, like a sports drink."

"Well, isn’t that perfect?" Woody Johnson said with a smile. "Most sports drinks on the market are just water, electrolytes, sugar, and coloring. The Johnson Group is a global pharmaceutical and medical consumer products conglomerate. Developing something like that is basic R&D for us."

"Well..." Li Wei was momentarily stunned. "Alright, Mr. Johnson, we can exchange contact information and stay in touch about a potential partnership."

"Although I don’t like this old coot," John Mara interjected, "partnering with the Johnson Group would make it much easier for you to get through FDA approval, and their distribution network is top-notch."

"I see," Li Wei nodded. "Let’s keep in touch. As for the specifics, I’ll need to wait until my agent, Don Quixote, is present. Once both sides confirm their intent to cooperate, we can sit down and talk."

He wasn’t swayed by the sheer prestige of the Johnson Family name; he intended to discuss the specific details of any collaboration only when Don Quixote was present.

"No problem," Woody Johnson said, clinking his glass against Li Wei’s. "There’s plenty of time. But don’t take too long. John and I are just a couple of old bones."

"I won’t, I won’t," Li Wei said politely.

Watching John Mara and Woody Johnson continue their cheerful banter, Li Wei excused himself and went to look for Elizabeth.

In a secluded corner near the staircase to the second-floor terrace, he spotted that flash of fiery red.

Anya was nowhere in sight. Standing across from Elizabeth now were Sebastian, whom Elizabeth had only met a handful of times, and an unfamiliar young man in a Ralph Lauren suit with slicked-back hair.

"Elizabeth Mellon, I hope you understand this is nothing personal," the man said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "About this year’s Skull and Bones Society tapping ceremony... the internal preliminary vote was extremely close, and you’ve only just enrolled..."

"But wasn’t Charles Mellon tapped as a freshman, an exception to the rule?" Elizabeth asked pointedly, swirling the champagne in her glass.

"Charlie... Charlie was a former chairman, after all. His influence in the society is still strong. Our hands were tied..."

"It’s fine, Brad," Elizabeth said with a slight smile. "I’m not particularly interested in that gloomy tomb anyway."

"Having a nice chat?"

Li Wei chose that moment to walk over and stand by Elizabeth’s side.

"Li Wei," Sebastian said, his arm around Brad. "This is Brad."

Li Wei nodded with little interest, then immediately turned back to Elizabeth. "There are two older gentlemen over there I think you might be interested in meeting."

"Of course. Let’s go," Elizabeth said, turning without hesitation and taking Li Wei’s arm.

"Damn it, Sebastian. You know my hands were tied."

After Li Wei and Elizabeth left, Brad irritably tugged at his tie.

"Charlie gave a direct order, and I still want that letter of recommendation from Mellon Commercial Bank... Besides, isn’t Li Wei just some football player? What kind of friends could he possibly introduce her to?"

Sebastian remained noncommittal, simply shrugging his shoulders.

"You might not be aware of Li Wei’s influence and earning potential right now," he said with a low whistle. "He may not be a big name in the financial world, but in the NFL, they’ve got a nickname for him: the Yellow-skinned God."

He gestured toward the two old men with Li Wei and Elizabeth. "Do you know who they are?"

"Who?"

"John Mara, owner of the Giants," Sebastian said with a grin. "And Woody Johnson, the head of the Johnson Family, chairman of the Johnson Group, and owner of the New York Jets."

"And if you don’t know who that is, allow me to enlighten you," he said, twisting the knife as he watched Brad’s expression falter. "The Johnson Group controls more than half of the medical consumer products market in the United States of America."

"Damn it, shut up, Sebastian," Brad said, putting down his champagne and turning to leave. "I know what the Johnson Group is."

"I think you backed the wrong horse," Sebastian said, downing his champagne in one gulp. "Elizabeth on her own might just be a young woman, but Li Wei isn’t. He’s tied up in contracts and endorsements worth hundreds of millions of dollars. He’s not like you and me, just a couple of rich kids living off our families."

...

Li Wei led Elizabeth through the mingling crowd and straight back to the central booth.

"Mr. John, Mr. Woody, allow me to introduce a very talented and gifted young woman," Li Wei said, guiding Elizabeth forward. "This is Elizabeth Mellon. Elizabeth, these are Mr. John Mara and Mr. Woody Johnson."

As a New York powerhouse, John Mara knew all about the children of the major families, and he simply smiled and raised his glass.

Woody Johnson, however, clearly recognized Elizabeth, and some of his business formality faded. "You must be Liz, Alexander’s granddaughter. I used to hold you when you were a little girl."

"Yes, Mr. Johnson," Elizabeth said politely. "It’s a pleasure to see you again."

"How’s your grandfather these days?" Woody Johnson asked teasingly. "Is he still the same old bastard? I’m sorry about the decision he made regarding your father. Your father was a very talented man."

As soon as he said this, the smile on Elizabeth’s face stiffened.

’From the way he’s talking, Woody Johnson definitely knows my situation,’ she thought. ’He’s clearly trying to distance himself and avoid getting too involved with me.’

"My grandfather is doing well, I believe, as is my father. Thank you for your concern, Mr. Johnson," she said. "My father has withdrawn from social life and is enjoying a quiet life on his own."

Woody Johnson nodded and politely clinked glasses with Elizabeth.

"You’re... taking over from your father now, right?" he asked suddenly. "If I recall correctly, it’s the art gallery near Brooklyn and a small charitable foundation?"

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded. "In the Danbo Region."

"Ohh," Woody Johnson said. "You know what? I have a proposal."