Welcome to America

New York, USA, John F. Kennedy International Airport.

When Livy, carrying all his belongings, arrived in America to seek refuge with his distant uncle Don Quixote, his previously somewhat gloomy heart was now filled with excitement.

Li Wei's parents had mentioned this brother to him many times before they passed away. It is said that he had behaved very improperly, that is, he had squandered some money. However, he later said that he had made some money and even tried to invite Li Wei's family to America for a get-together, but Li Wei's father refused each time.

Li Wei had never met this uncle; he had only heard some stories about him from his father. Now, his family had undergone a major change. At the age of 17, he had lost both his parents and was in debt. If he stayed in China, he would become a defaulter because he couldn't repay the money, and Li Wei didn't want to do that.

Fortunately, in accordance with the laws of both countries, the Foreign Affairs Department contacted his distant American uncle.

Don Quixote, Livy muttered to himself as he carried two bags. What a strange name.

Suddenly, his phone rang. This SIM card was actually obtained for him by a woman from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

"I am Don Quixote Cervantes," a hoarse, hurried middle-aged male voice said, with the clicking of car turn signals in the background. "Listen, I don't go into the parking lot. It's run by vampires, and it costs $4 an hour. Where are you now?"

Fortunately, Li Wei had been exposed to English since childhood, which was practically his native language; otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to understand what his uncle, Don Quixote Cervantes, was saying.

Did he really make some money? Li Wei couldn't help but have some doubts, otherwise why would he be so anxious about the $4 per hour parking fee?

"I'm Li Wei," he said. "I just went through customs."

"Then go to Terminal 4, Area B, outside Gate 2, and call me when you're five minutes away," Don Quixote's voice was urgent. "Don't call too early, understand? I can't stay here too long, those damn traffic cops are watching me."

After hanging up the phone, Li Wei stood there somewhat dazed, wondering whether he should use Alipay to buy another plane ticket back home.

Ten minutes later, a dilapidated car with mud splattered on its side skirts pulled over to the side of the road and nearly collided with a yellow taxi.

It took Li Wei quite a bit of effort to discern from the thick layer of mortar and rust that this was originally a white Toyota. When the window rolled down, a thin face with prominent cheekbones and a stubble beard was revealed, with bags under his eyes from chronic sleep deprivation.

"Get in the car!" His eyes darted around as if searching for a non-existent traffic cop. "Hurry up, don't dawdle."

With some effort, Li Wei tossed the two heavy boxes into the dusty, empty paint buckets in the back of the truck, pried open the passenger door, and climbed inside.

There was a reflective vest covered in paint splatters and a half-empty Gatorade bottle lying on the passenger seat. Levi tossed them to the back seat with some disgust before he could sit down.

"Ugh!"

Don Quixote slammed on the gas, and the Toyota let out a scream. Instead of charging like a knight's steed, it slowly and tremblingly squeezed into the traffic.

"Fasten your seatbelts," he said, turning around. "The passenger door lock is broken and might pop open when you turn."

Li Wei couldn't help but raise one hand and grab the handle above his head.

"Livy, is that it?" Don Quixote said. "Listen, I'm so sorry about your father... the death of my half-brother and sister-in-law... He was a really smart fellow, and he died in a ridiculous car accident... I heard you had to pay a lot of money in compensation? Did you run to America because you couldn't afford it?"

"I will earn the money and pay back what I owe, and this is none of your business," Li Wei frowned. "It's my own business. I'll work and earn money when I'm an adult."

Is this the uncle my father mentioned before he passed away who "made some money"?

"But when he dumped you on me, he didn't bring a check for a million dollars," Don Quixote scoffed. "New York isn't like China. Here, money can buy everything, but that also means everything has to be bought with money. So, how much money do you have in your pocket?"

"I have about $600 in the card," Levi said. "The rest is my clothes and some daily necessities."

Actually, he had two cards, and the other one contained a full $6000, but he didn't say so.

This money is a drop in the bucket when it comes to paying off his debts, but for him now it is undoubtedly a huge sum that could save his life in a critical moment.

But even $600 seemed like a pleasant surprise to this uncle.

"600 dollars? Ha!" He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. "Well, at least that'll cover my gas and lost wages for the week. Welcome to America, kid."

Throughout the journey, without Livy needing to say a word, Don Quixote naturally and effortlessly recounted his story, as if pouring beans from a bamboo tube.

From the time he made a small fortune in business, to meeting his ex-wife ("She was such a complete bitch, wasn't she? That's how women are, they want to squeeze every last drop out of you"), to their divorce, to his cash flow problems, to borrow money from gangsters at exorbitant interest rates while also paying his ex-wife $2000 a month in alimony ("Damn American law, it lets a pig lie at home and still earn $2000 a month. If I had lived 10 years earlier, I would have been selling my ass to make money.").

"So now I have to work two jobs just to survive," he said casually, lighting a cigarette. "I carry bricks on construction sites during the day and wash dishes in the kitchen of a Spanish restaurant at night. This is America. If you want to survive, you have to give it your all... Here we go."

"Where is this?" Li Wei looked out the oil-stained car window at the gray concrete building that resembled a moldy loaf of bread.

This is clearly not Don Quixote's house.

"This is the lobby of the New York City Administration of Children's Services (ACS)," Don Quixote said. "For us—mainly for me—this is a place of hope."

He slammed his beat-up Toyota into a parking space marked "Official Vehicles Only," then quickly pulled out a disabled parking permit and threw it onto the windshield.

Li Wei couldn't help but ask, "Are you disabled?"

"What?" Don Quixote realized what was happening and said smugly, "Of course not."

“Listen, Levi,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning to look at Levi, “the reason I adopted you and became your guardian is because of the damn laws of America. As your sole guardian, taking in an orphan under 18 like you, the state government will give us—me—a check for $1000 a month. That’s called ‘family foster care allowance.’”

"So I'm just a human check that automatically cashes every month?" Li Wei laughed. "I thought it was the affection between family members."

"If family or love were useful, I wouldn't have to sell one of my eggs to pay the rent, son. More than anyone, I wish family really existed, and it would be even better if it were worth some money," Don Quixote patted Livy on the shoulder. "Now, get off the train."

After saying that, he spat into his dirty palms and frantically slicked his filthy hair back, trying to comb it into a presentable slicked-back style. Then, he pulled out a pair of gold-rimmed glasses from somewhere and put them on his nose.

Since all the procedures were legal and legitimate, and Livy's handsome face played a significant role in Mrs. Fat Debbie's favor, the $1000 check quickly ended up in Don Quixote's pocket.

This made him very happy, and when he got back to his car, his excitement hadn't subsided.

"Listen, kid," he put the forged disability certificate back in place and started the car, "we're all in the same boat now, aren't we? These ACS staff have nothing better to do than make things difficult for us poor little people. They come to the site every month to see if you're still alive and how you're doing."

"We'll split this money 55/50," he said. "I'll take $500, and you can have the rest. If you need to pay for room and board, consider the $500 your living expenses, and then you can use it to help those idiots at ACS each month, how about that?"

"850 US dollars," Levi said, "otherwise there's nothing to discuss."

Before he came, he had learned about the prices in America. In New York, $500 would barely be enough to survive, even if you tried to buy discounted vegetables every day without buying anything else.

The cost of living in America is shockingly high; transportation and communication costs alone could cost him $200 a month. Moreover, judging from the smell emanating from Don Quixote's filthy shirt, his family probably didn't even have a washing machine, and Li Wei had to pay to go to the laundromat every month to do his laundry.

"Are you robbing me, you brat!" Don Quixote yelled. "I haven't even calculated your water and electricity bills yet!"

"But without me, you won't even get this $150," Li Wei said calmly. "I'll give you another $50, you get 2 and I get 8, otherwise I'll report you to ACS next month for abusing me."

Don Quixote turned to look at Livy and demanded, "Aren't we family? I'm your guardian, and your elder!"

"You said it," Levi shrugged. "This is America, and I don't want to sell one of my balls to eat."

"Very good, you learn quickly," Don Quixote grinned, revealing a set of yellow teeth. "That's right, welcome to America!"

For the next while, Levi watched the beat-up Toyota crawl along the highway between Brooklyn and Queens until the sky turned a dirty purplish-gray. Then Don Quixote suddenly swerved the steering wheel, exited the highway, and plunged into the crowded streets of Sunset Park.

There are more and more Chinese-character signs here—Fuzhou fish balls, Wenzhou hair salon, Jihui Tianchao, immigration services, and other shops are squeezed among the mottled red brick buildings. If it weren't for the occasional Mexican porter passing by and the mirage-like silhouette of Manhattan skyscrapers in the distance, Li Wei would have thought he had returned to the old town of a third-tier county 30 years ago.

"We're here," Don Quixote skillfully parked the car next to a fire hydrant where parking was prohibited. "The alley next to 8th Avenue."

Li Wei got off the carriage and, dragging two suitcases, followed Don Quixote into the side of a three-story red brick building that looked like it could crumble at any moment. There was a rusty iron gate, only half a person's height, leading down into the ground.

"Watch your head," Don Quixote muttered. "And walk quietly, or the dog upstairs will start barking in the middle of the night if it hears you."

As the iron gate opened, a musty smell wafted out. Li Wei wrinkled his nose and followed it down, arriving at a basement apartment converted from a cellar used for storing miscellaneous items.

There was only a flat, long window at the top of the room, close to the ground, through which one could see the ankles of passersby and the occasional rat scurrying by.

The room is long and narrow, with the living room, bedroom, and dining room all in the same space, except for a separate bathroom. The only partitions are a few cheap blackout curtains.

"I've also set aside a 'little room' for you," Don Quixote said smugly, pointing to a dirty mattress that he'd picked up from who-knows-where. "How about that? I even provided you with a mattress."

Even the most optimistic person would sigh if they fell into this predicament.

Li Wei didn't say anything and pushed his suitcase into his "room".

"If you're going to slap someone, remember to go to the bathroom first, otherwise I'll smell it," Don Quixote said, glancing at his cracked phone. "I have to go wash dishes at the restaurant in half an hour. Come out first, and we'll talk about what you're supposed to do next."

Li Wei pushed open the curtain and came out, carefully sitting down on the tattered sofa with peeling leather.

Feeling something pressing against his bottom, he reached into the gap between the sofas and pulled out a book—a knight novel?

"Oh, this is mine," Don Quixote took the chivalric novel from his hand. "This is one of the few I brought from home. I've always dreamed of being a knight since I was a child... I also have a suit of armor that I bought before in my compartment."

"I know you want to make money quickly," Don Quixote put the book back, coughed twice, and said seriously, "but that won't work, at least not until you're 18. Before that, you can only work part-time, and the minimum wage is $15.5 an hour."

"I'm still a year away from turning 1," Li Wei frowned. "So what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"You have to go to school," Don Quixote said, pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and carefully taking one out. "Even if it's the worst high school, you have to finish high school. If you came here illegally, that's fine, but you came in legally on a B-2 visa. You can't work illegally if you want to. New York State law stipulates that if you want to stay in New York, you have to switch to an F-1 student visa and wait for two years before I, as your guardian, can give you a green card."

"There are too many people like you who want to use a student visa to work illegally. The path has been blocked by those who came before," he said with a hint of schadenfreude. "Even if you're in a hurry, you have to wait two years to get your green card."

Li Wei hadn't expected there to be this hidden aspect. He had originally thought that, like in TV dramas or online, as long as you stayed illegally in America, you could earn several thousand dollars a month even if you were just a waiter.

"Now that you're abroad, you don't need to worry too much about your debts back home in the short term," Don Quixote said, smoking in front of a minor without any regard for public order or morality. "As your uncle, I have some advice for you. If I were you, what you should be worried about next is your school life and what kind of life you want to live."

"School life?" Li Wei retorted. "Does school shooting happen every day in New York high schools?"

"Shooting? Oh, that's one aspect, but the mortality rate is relatively low," Don Quixote mumbled. "I'm referring to your pretty face."

"If I were you, I would work out hard for the next month," he said, returning to his cubicle to change his clothes. "Or maybe I should carry a knife with me. You have a pretty mixed-race face, and you're an outsider, and your body isn't exactly strong. I think you know what I'm talking about... I'm going out now. Take care of your own dinner. If you're not back by 3 o'clock, I'm dead out there. Remember to call the police for me."

As Don Quixote picked up a bunch of keys and went out the door, Livy let out a long breath and looked out the dim window.

It was already getting late, and people upstairs were making a loud commotion in an unintelligible language, accompanied by thumping footsteps.

But none of this could affect Li Wei's weariness. Jet lag, travel, and the mental strain brought on by the fatigue overwhelmed him, and he fell asleep fully clothed without a care in the world.

Fortunately, it was August in New York. Although the basement was damp and cold, it wasn't so cold that I couldn't sleep.

In his dazed state, a voice flashed through his mind:

Welcome to the Middle Ages, adventurer Levi.

The Medieval Adventurer System has been successfully loaded.

This is a world where crisis and opportunity coexist. Good luck.

However, Li Wei didn't care about any of this and fell into a deep sleep.

In a state between sleep and wakefulness, he heard some rustling sounds.

At first he thought it was a mouse, but the noise got louder and louder, even accompanied by clanging and rattling sounds, which kept him awake.

He opened his eyes, pushed back the curtain, and looked:

The streetlights shone crookedly through the long, narrow window, illuminating the silhouette of a person putting on armor.

"Uncle Don Quixote?" Li Wei said, somewhat confused. "What are you doing? It's only... oh, 3:30 in the morning?"

"Who!" Don Quixote looked at him with his eyes tightly shut. "Who's speaking!"

"It's me," Livy said, seeing Don Quixote seemingly sleepwalking in the lamplight. "I am your nephew, Livy."

"What nephew!" Don Quixote exclaimed, suddenly realizing, "I know!"

Even with his eyes closed, he still patted Li Wei's shoulder precisely. "You must be my servant, Li Wei."

He pointed to his boots: "Servant Li Wei, help me put on my boots!"

Livy did not act rashly. He stood there and observed Don Quixote for a while before putting on his boots himself.

Don Quixote then pushed open the basement door.

"Where are you going?" Li Wei could only put on a coat and follow behind him. "What are we going to do?"

Don Quixote the knight snorted and said in a booming voice, "Have you forgotten? This knight was commissioned by the village chief today to clean up the goblins harassing the village!"

At that moment, another voice flashed through Li Wei's mind:

[Livy, the hero, you have met the knight Don Quixote Cervantes]

You have received a quest: Assist the knight in clearing out the goblins.

[Reward: System panel unlocked, attribute points +0.1, random skill *1]

???