"Upper class is a bit of a stretch," Elizabeth said, waving her hand. "I’d say I’m upper-middle class."
Li Wei wore an expression that said, ’I’m just going to quietly watch you put on airs.’
"Well, uh, Christmas Day is definitely spent with family," Elizabeth said. "We’ll go to our house on Long Island to spend it with the extended family. All my cousins and other relatives my age will be there."
"But tomorrow, I think I’ll be going to the White House Christmas ball with my parents," she said happily. "My father needs to discuss next year’s new policies with the new Democratic president."
"I saw that on TV," Li Wei nodded. "I hear he’s the oldest president ever to take office?"
"He is," Elizabeth smiled. "But he was also the youngest senator. Funny how fate works, isn’t it? The youngest senator becos the oldest president."
"So, did you go to Yale for family reasons, too?" Li Wei asked curiously. "Like a family tradition?"
"Of course," Elizabeth nodded. "My grandfather and my father both graduated from Yale."
Her tone was so matter-of-fact, as if Yale was the only school in the world.
After saying goodbye to Elizabeth, Li Wei drove ho, picked up so small gifts, and then continued on to the Bronx.
Christmas was just around the corner, and the holiday atmosphere was so thick you could almost cut it with a knife. Besides the usual food and electronics sales on the last Saturday before Christmas (Super Saturday), Li Wei noticed as he drove by that even the gun shops were running Christmas promotions.
"Epic discounts on AR-15 parts! Buy now and get 2 free boxes of matching ammo!"
Interestingly, across the street from the gun shop was an outdoor lifestyle store, and a display in its window caught Li Wei’s eye.
It was a promotional display that combined both the back-to-school and Christmas seasons.
In the center of the window, two child-sized mannequins wore brightly colored backpacks. The pink backpack on the left had a "Level III Ballistic Protection" tag.
"The best gift for your child—safety," the poster read. "Buy a bulletproof backpack and get a free trauma kit (includes a chest decompression needle). So Mom never has to worry about her child’s safety again."
Besides guns, pharmaceuticals were also at a sales peak. A huge poster was plastered on the pharmacy’s entrance: ’Buy 1000 painkillers, get 1000 free.’
Next to the pharmacy was the Louis Bail Bonds Office, its storefront sealed tight with iron bars. A crooked Santa hat hung on the dilapidated neon sign, and a rolling LED screen below displayed an incredibly enticing holiday promotion:
"15% off processing fees for violent cri bail bonds during the Christmas season! Bring a group of 5, one goes free!"
Li Wei shook his head as he drove. ’The businesses in the South Bronx are really insane. They’ll use anything as a sales pitch. At this rate, are they going to start having Christmas sales on cocaine and marijuana?’
But... ’Have there been more cops around here lately?’ Li Wei muttered to himself, watching a police car roar past. ’Is it because Christmas is coming, and cri is getting worse?’
...
"Form a line! Don’t push!"
Kevin stood behind a makeshift ’counter’ made of a few stacked trash cans, holding a cheap gaphone—one he had swiped from the entrance of a dollar store.
"Crack cocaine, Christmas sale!" Kevin felt like he was about to strike it rich. "Regular price 30 USD, now only 27! Get it while it’s hot! To celebrate old man Jesus’s birthday, limit two bags per person."
Ever since he’d gotten two batches of product from Scarface and sold them for triple the price, his greed had beco uncontrollable. Even though he had dropped the price to 27 USD, it was still a massive profit compared to the initial 10 USD or the 3 USD wholesale price. Out of that, 14 USD went to Scarface, and the remaining 13 USD was all his.
Taking one dollar less than his boss was a sign of Kevin’s deep-seated reverence for Scarface.
Looking at the junkies lined up before him, Kevin felt nothing.
He didn’t care that their eyes were filled with rage. He’d been on the streets for too long; he knew that at least sixty percent of them wouldn’t survive the winter.
The mother with the child from last ti wasn’t here.
"I’ll take two bags! Here’s 54 USD!" A withered hand held out a few crumpled bills.
"Fuck off! This is 50 USD!" Kevin sized up the bills in a single glance. "Don’t try to pull a fast one. If you don’t want to buy, then get lost!"
"I have it! I have it!" The person frantically dug a few more coins out of their sock.
Business was surprisingly good. Kevin could feel his wallet swelling, just like his ambition, giving him an unprecedented sense of control.
Just as he was about to hand over two small bags of white powder, a flash of red and blue light suddenly pierced the gloom of the alley without warning.
"Cops!"
Soone shouted, and the crowd that had been packed in front of Kevin instantly scattered, fleeing in all directions.
Kevin snatched up the rest of his product and bolted behind a huge tal dumpster.
Luckily, the black-and-white NYPD patrol car didn’t stop in the alley. Its tires crunched on the packed snow, and the sound gradually faded into the distance.
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