"Bro," Michael said, looking at Li Wei, heartbroken. "Tell the truth, are you on juice?"
The next morning, bright and early, Li Wei had arrived at the gym, eager to test his strength.
He’d heard that bench pressing 100 kg was a big milestone for most gym enthusiasts, and he wanted to see if he could break that barrier today.
To his surprise, Michael, the black student he’d t at the gym, was also there so early.
After asking, Li Wei learned that Michael also had a part-ti job that afternoon, so he could only squeeze in a workout this morning before school.
As they worked out, Michael started to feel like sothing was off.
’Just two days ago, this dude could barely manage one 80 kg rep, so how the hell is he pushing 80 kg today like it’s air?!’
Confused, he instinctively assud that Li Wei must have secretly started taking sothing to speed up his progress.
"Don’t be ridiculous," Li Wei said, patting his shoulder. "I’m not on anything."
"Then were you just ssing with the other day?" Michael couldn’t believe Li Wei’s progress was so fast. "Are you Superman or sothing? Getting stronger just by sunbathing and absorbing solar radiation?"
Li Wei secretly wondered about the limits of his system, too. ’Maybe one day I really could beco Superman.’
For now, though, he was just a 17-year-old who’d only had the system for about a week. He wasn’t yet at the point where he could stop worrying about affording beef.
"Less talk," Li Wei said with a laugh. "Help load the plates."
"How much are we adding?" Michael asked. "You’re in good form today. Wanna try for 90 kg?"
Li Wei shook his head. "Let’s go straight to 100 kg," he said. "I’ll give it a try."
"If you can push 100 kg, that’d be seriously impressive, bro." Michael fist-bumped him and loaded the barbell to 100 kg. "Let’s do this. I’ll spot you."
...
"No way! You said 100, and you just did it!"
After watching Li Wei steadily press 100 kg, and then even manage 110 kg, Michael completely lost it.
"I give up." He grabbed Li Wei’s shirt. "What are you on? Can you hook up? I’m begging you. Stop training. Seriously, just stop."
Li Wei knew Michael was just goofing around, so after trading a few jokes, he went over to the squat rack to test his limit there.
The increase in his squat strength was also impressive, shooting up from 95 kg to 140 kg.
It was only now that Li Wei felt his physical condition might finally et the standards for getting into the high school football team.
He was looking forward to seeing what incredible level his physique would reach by the ti school started in just over three weeks.
They trained until nearly 9 a.m., after which Michael and Li Wei left the gym and parted ways.
Li Wei had to go ho to change before heading to his part-ti job on the Upper East Side, while Michael had to rush off to school.
He wasn’t the only one who had noticed the changes in his physique and strength; Lady Delores had, too.
"This suit seems a bit small," she said, looking at Li Wei. "Did you gain weight? Or are you wearing sothing else underneath?"
"I’ve been working out lately," Li Wei explained. "That might be why the clothes seem smaller."
"It wouldn’t happen that fast," Lady Delores said. "Stand still."
She walked up to Li Wei and circled him a few tis, her hands roaming over his chest and waist for a good while.
After a few seconds, it dawned on Li Wei—this Slavic woman had probably noticed long ago and was just taking advantage of the situation.
"This is sexual harassnt," Li Wei said, taking a step back. He paused. "You’ll have to pay more for that."
"This physique is perfect as it is. You are forbidden from training anymore," Lady Delores said calmly. "I’m raising your wage to 30 USD an hour. I’m very pleased that you still have sufficient self-control even after earning so money. That’s a rare quality among the poor."
’Well, for an extra 30 USD an hour in pre-tax inco, I guess I can let the boss grope a little now and then.’
Her expression and tone remained placid. Even after Li Wei called her out, she didn’t blush or show the slightest hint of embarrassnt, as if nothing in the world could make her bat an eye.
"Go find Emma," she said, looking Li Wei up and down. "Have her get you a new suit. Hmm... the EU size 54 Brunello Cucinelli. And have her find you a pair of non-prescription, gold-rimd glasses."
"Isn’t that a bit too expensive?" Li Wei was surprised. "If I rember correctly, that Brunello Cucinelli suit costs 13,000 USD, right?"
"So you’d better be careful with it, and don’t let your physique change," Lady Delores said calmly. "No smoking, and don’t let any scents cling to you."
One had to admit, for a woman who could open a fashion boutique on New York’s Fifth Avenue, her taste and eye for style were truly impeccable.
When Li Wei erged wearing the Neapolitan suit with its shoulder pads removed and the non-prescription gold-rimd glasses, combined with his mixed-race features, he looked like a well-bred young nobleman who had just returned from a top luxury fashion show.
It wasn’t long before Li Wei closed another sale. He suspected the custor was buying solely based on his looks, but that didn’t matter.
’A 500 USD commission plus a 500 USD tip in a single day made not mind being treated like a piece of eye candy. A few more generous rich ladies like that, and I might be able to buy a house in Brooklyn by next week.’
However, of his 1,090 USD in pre-tax earnings, 218 USD was deducted for taxes by the ti the money reached his hands, making his eye twitch.
"Losing it already?" another sales associate, Emma, teased him. "You don’t even have legal status yet. Just wait until you get that and own a house—the real fun is just beginning."
"Federal FICA, withholding tax, state tax, city tax, mandatory insurance, property tax..." She ticked them off on her fingers, sighing. "You’d be lucky to take ho half of your pre-tax inco, and you still have to live on what’s left."
"But can’t you avoid taxes?" Li Wei couldn’t help but ask. "The richer you are, the less tax you pay, right?"
"Sure," Emma laughed. "But you can start thinking about that when your assets are in the hundreds of millions of USD. To avoid taxes, you’d need at least two full-ti accountants by your side."
Li Wei could only watch helplessly as 218 USD flew out of his hands. In a gloomy mood, he boarded the subway to Brooklyn.
As usual, he took the subway to the Eighth Avenue station, carefully picked out so cost-effective, high-calorie food at the supermarket, and returned to his basent.
"Well, this is a rare sight," Li Wei said, surprised to see Don Quixote in the room. "Shouldn’t you be at the construction site at this hour?"
"Jeez," he said, coughing as he propped the door open to air the place out. "How much did you smoke?"
Don Quixote was slumped dejectedly on the sofa, a half-empty bottle of cheap hard liquor in his hand.
On the coffee table before him, cigarette butts overflowed from the ashtray.
"Not that much," Don Quixote said. "Let ask you sothing. Do you really think you can get into the Ivy League with your background?"
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