Chapter 261 - 162: You Broke the Rules of the Streets
"Who are they? And what kind of trouble are they planning?" Li Wei put down his knife and fork, picked up his napkin to wipe his mouth, and his eyes narrowed slightly.
"This whole thing is very strange," Lin Daohang explained with a frown. "The other party is being very secretive, passing the message through layers of intermediaries. It’s impossible to trace back to the real employer. And the kind of trouble they want is also strange. It’s not like they’re asking us to trash the place or hurt anyone. Not that we’d have the guts to touch anyone from the Mellon Family anyway."
"Then what is it?"
"They want us to find a garbage truck full of household waste, or just hire a bunch of homeless people, and dump a pile of stinking trash near the red carpet on opening day." Lin Daohang gave a bitter laugh. "The damage wouldn’t be significant, but the insult would be immense. Just imagine, if the red carpet is covered in garbage and reeking, the art exhibition’s prestige would be completely ruined. None of the high-profile socialites would ever set foot in a place like that."
Lin Daohang paused, then quickly stated his position, "As soon as I heard the report from my men, I knew something wasn’t right. Miss Elizabeth is your friend. This is a job that our Chinese Business Association absolutely cannot accept. Not only that, but we had to inform you immediately, in case they see we’ve refused and go find another gang on the street to do this disgusting deed."
Li Wei listened quietly without speaking immediately. He just picked up his knife and fork again, cut a piece of rare tomahawk steak, and put it in his mouth. After chewing a few times and swallowing, he suddenly looked directly at Lin Daohang and asked out of the blue:
"Chairman Lin, you rushed all the way over here to tip me off. Is there something you wanted to ask of me? Or perhaps, something I can help you with?"
"Mr. Li, you misunderstand. I came today purely to give you a heads-up," Lin Daohang said, waving his hands hastily, his tone sincere. "I have absolutely no ulterior motives or requests."
Li Wei gave him a deep look, then fell into thought.
’For an old fox like Lin Daohang, who operates in the gray areas, to take the risk of breaking the street code just to tip him off... Li Wei wouldn’t believe he had no ulterior motives in a million years.’
Besides, ever since they last met, Lin Daohang had been sending him all sorts of gifts every single month. He even sent presents for Don Quixote and Lily.
"That young man of yours," Li Wei said, "Chen Haisheng, wasn’t it? Isn’t he competing in the New York Golden Gloves? When’s his next match? I’ll be sure to go in person to cheer him on."
As soon as Li Wei said this, Lin Daohang’s eyes lit up instantly, and an expression of unrestrained ecstasy appeared on his face.
Li Wei’s current status and influence were on a whole new level compared to before. For him to personally show up and support Chen Haisheng—that kind of prestige and clout would have a significant impact on the Chinese Business Association in Chinatown.
"It’s on August 25th! I’ll have front-row tickets delivered to you personally!" Lin Daohang was so excited his voice rose a notch.
The meal was a pleasant affair for both host and guest. After enjoying the culinary skills of the white chef, a beaming Lin Daohang walked out of the apartment building.
As he settled into the back seat of the Lexus LX600, an irrepressible smile still lingered on his face.
Chen Haisheng, sitting in the driver’s seat, glanced in the rearview mirror and asked curiously, "Uncle Lin, what’s got you so happy? Did that superstar agree to help us with something?"
"You need to be more respectful in his presence!" Lin Daohang shot a displeased glare at Chen Haisheng. "From now on, you will also call him Mr. Li. Don’t use that sarcastic ’superstar’ nickname. The white guys might not pick up on it, but you think Mr. Li can’t?!"
"Tch," Chen Haisheng started the car, muttering under his breath, "He’s just some football player. Once I beat my opponent on the 25th, I’ll have a good shot at becoming a pro boxer myself. Then those white guys will have to treat me with respect too..."
"You... you..." Lin Daohang looked at Chen Haisheng and shook his head in resignation.
"I really don’t agree with you taking such a huge risk, Uncle Lin," Chen Haisheng said immediately, seeing Lin Daohang’s expression harden. "Doesn’t this mean our Ghost Shadow Gang just broke the street code?"
"There is no more Ghost Shadow Gang. Now there is only the Fujian Business Association!" Lin Daohang stressed. "And another thing—"
His expression suddenly grew somber. He gazed out the window at the passing Manhattan nightscape, his voice lowering. "The street code? When have we Chinese ever truly been allowed to make the rules? Forget about us—even the Sicilians, the Irish, and the Russians have to bow and scrape before the ones in charge."
Chen Haisheng’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He didn’t speak, just listened in silence.
"Hai Sheng, you never experienced Chinatown 40 years ago. I was younger than you are now," Lin Daohang said, closing his eyes and sinking into a painful memory. "Back then, the Ghost Shadow Gang hadn’t gone legitimate yet. But we followed the rules so carefully. We paid our protection money on time, never crossed any lines or started trouble with the Italians. Even with our most profitable business, the laundromats, if a white cop from the precinct said one word—’it’s bad for the community’s image’—we’d shut one down immediately."
As he spoke, he suddenly snapped his eyes open, a vicious glint in them. "And what was the result? Did they ever give us a chance to survive?! They just saw us as weak and easy to bully! How did the Huaqing Gang get wiped out by the cops and the Italians working together back in the day? How did your father die on that rainy night in Brooklyn? Did they talk to us about ’rules’ then?!"