Chapter 167: Chapter 108: New York’s Underground Mole People

Although Dyker Heights had always been a middle-class neighborhood in Brooklyn, famous for its Christmas light displays and low crime rate, it was ultimately an open community.

It lacked the strict security of high-end apartments with doormen like those on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, nor did it have the buffer of private driveways stretching for hundreds of meters, typical of Long Island manors.

Most of the houses here were right on the street; you could simply step across an unfenced lawn and be right at the front door.

And all this chaos stemmed from the student at Franklin High School responsible for running the official Twitter account.

When posting the tweet congratulating Li Wei on his All-American Bowl MVP award, the student had tried to show the school’s support by including a photo of the principal with Li Wei.

In the tweet, perhaps because he was high on marijuana, he directly mentioned that Li Wei lived in Dyker Heights.

Although he realized the problem fifteen minutes later and edited the tweet, the internet has a memory.

For those eagle-eyed netizens and rabid fans, fifteen minutes was more than enough time to save the information and spread it far and wide within Li Wei’s fandom.

At first, it was just some tentative gestures.

For example, when Li Wei went out for his morning run, he would find his mailbox stuffed with all kinds of pink envelopes, and even a few pairs of lace panties.

But on Saturday morning, things escalated further.

Li Wei was at home eating breakfast with Lily and Don Quixote when a woman’s voice suddenly came from outside the window:

"Hey, girls! Look where I am! This is Li Wei’s house! The high schooler who’s blowing up right now! America’s number one King!"

A girl with pink-dyed hair, holding a selfie stick, was standing on their front lawn, yelling into her phone.

"I heard his dick is as thick as a forearm—strong enough to knock over two 300-pound defensive tackles! Get this to 50,000 likes and I’ll ring his doorbell and invite him to film a scene with me. I’ll post the condensed version on P**nHub and the full cut on my OF page. Make sure to like and follow so you don’t miss out on the scoop!"

Li Wei frowned and glanced at the Ring of All’s Well on his left middle finger.

’Aren’t matters like this under your jurisdiction? Or do you not think this is already affecting my life? Can’t you do something?’

Ring of All’s Well: ?

"Li Wei, what’s P**nHub?" Lily asked. "What kind of episode does that lady outside want to film with you?"

"She, uh..." Li Wei didn’t know how to explain. "She wants to interview me."

"An interview! Li Wei is a celebrity now," Lily said, nodding earnestly. "After it’s done, can I watch it too?"

"Just eat your breakfast," Don Quixote said, standing up. "I’ll go get rid of her."

Seeing that Lily looked like she was about to press the issue, Li Wei quickly changed the subject.

"I think we need to move," Li Wei said to Don Quixote after breakfast. "This place is comfortable, but as I get more famous, there will definitely be more people like her."

Li Wei didn’t want to live separately from Don Quixote, at least not in the short term.

For one, without Don Quixote, he’d lose a fixed point for grinding his stats. For another, Don Quixote would be his agent in the future, so it was better to live close by to handle business.

But moving had to be put on the schedule. The harassment disrupting his normal life was one thing, but it was also affecting his night-crawling!

If a fan happened to snap a photo of him leaving the house one night, he’d never be able to explain himself.

Don Quixote nodded. "We really do have to move. I’ll keep an eye out for places when I have time."

But Li Wei said, "Uncle Don Quixote, why don’t you... find some time to sell off your construction business? And what about getting rid of those shares in the Bronx?"

Don Quixote, still holding a half-finished cup of coffee, furrowed his brow the moment he heard Li Wei’s suggestion.

"I..." he said with some hesitation. "I can still handle it."

"Uncle, I’ve already found you asleep at your desk three times this week," Li Wei sighed. "I understand this is your business, but you’re an executive director at JPMorgan Chase. You, of all people, should be an expert at calculating return on investment."

"Remember when you wanted to snatch a piece of the pie from the Italians? I tried to talk you out of it," he said. "I told you back then that I’d be the one to carry us, but you said you couldn’t put the entire burden on my shoulders alone."

Don Quixote fell silent.

"Back then, I hadn’t led the team to a PSAL championship, I hadn’t won the All-American Bowl MVP, and I hadn’t signed that $200 million USD contract," Li Wei continued, striking while the iron was hot. "But think about it now. You’re my agent. You get a 3% commission. If I play out the next two years, how much will you make? A full $6 million USD. And that’s just from my player contract. What about commercial endorsements?"

"Li Wei, I’m not being your agent for the commission," Don Quixote managed to say. "I... I’m just worried you’ll get cheated by someone untrustworthy."

"Of course I know that," Li Wei said. "But this is still a proper job. You took me in when I first came to New York. Now it’s my turn to take care of you. I don’t see anything wrong with that."