Work at the Mellon Art Gallery

Chapter 90: Working at the Mellon Art Gallery (Seeking monthly votes)

Li Wei had a lot of free time this month, so he agreed.

Before setting off, he remembered something else—it seemed that he had promised to send Michael AP course books and materials last time, and there were still a few left at home that he hadn't finished sending. So he made a special call to Michael before leaving.

"Hey buddy," he said, "are you home right now? I found I have a few AP course books left, and I'm going over there on some errands. Shall I bring them to you?"

Michael heard protests from children who didn't want to do their homework.

"Oh... Levi, thank you so much, buddy," Michael said. "I'm tutoring kids right now, hey! That's an eraser, not food! — I still have about an hour before I get off get out of class. You can just leave the stuff at my doorstep. They know Kevin lives here."

Kevin is the drug addict and gangster brother in Mike's story.

"Then I'll leave it at your doorstep," Li Wei said after thinking for a moment. "It seems the water pipes in your building have burst due to freezing. I need to go and take a look."

"I found out about this before I left," Michael sighed. "Thank you so much. There haven't been any problems with the pipes or garbage disposal since you guys came. Hopefully, it will be fixed quickly this time too."

"I'll go take a look first," Li Wei said. "That's all, see you later."

After hanging up the phone, Li Wei took a down jacket from the clothes rack, put it on, and went out.

Although his constitution is already at 3.0, and his resistance to diseases and plagues makes him confident that he will not catch a cold or fever.

But it will still be cold, so there's no need to make things harder for yourself.

Driving past rows of tents, Levi arrived at the southern part of the Bronx.

After taking everything out of the car, Li Wei parked it across from the police station and then walked to the building Don Quixote had bought.

If it's near Bell Ridge or a school, or other places, it's fine. But in the southern part of the Bronx, it's better to park across from the police station to avoid having your wheels removed or your windows smashed during the day.

This is Li Wei's reflection after driving here several times.

After a quick look at the water pipes, Li Wei concluded that it was probably not the Italians' doing, but rather that the pipes had naturally frozen and burst due to the cold weather.

After taking a picture and sending it to Don Quixote, Levi arrived at Michael's house. After knocking on the door and finding no one to answer, Levi prepared to put down the bag he was carrying.

He heard someone creeping upstairs, so he turned around abruptly and saw a black teenager with dreadlocks pointing a pistol at him. He looked very thin and small, and his face was different from Michael's.

"You are... Levi?" he said, frowning. "Isn't this the big star from Franklin High School? What are you doing here?"

"You know me?" Li Wei shook the bag in his hand. "I'm here to deliver books to Michael."

"Give me the bag," the Black teenager said, his wariness undiminished. "Don't try anything funny."

Li Wei simply tossed the bag to him, leaving him flustered and confused.

"Fuck! Shit!" He frantically snatched the bag. "I fucking told you not to try anything funny!"

He took two steps back, glanced at the bag, and then his expression relaxed slightly.

"That bastard Michael probably didn't introduce me to you," he said, putting away his gun and walking past Levi to open the door to the house. "I'm Kevin."

"You don't look like..." Levi paused, "Well... not like Michael's brother."

"This is from meth," Kevin said, rubbing the muzzle of his gun against the crevice of his dreadlocks to relieve the itch as he opened the door. "How do you tell what drug someone is using?"

"People who smoke meth are usually quite thin," he said to himself. "People who smoke marijuana are slow-witted, have unfocused eyes, always smell like skunks, and they eat anything they can find."

As Kevin spoke, he casually kicked away the trash on the ground to make way for Li Wei.

"As for those who use heroin..." Kevin threw the pistol on the coffee table, slumped into the sofa like he had no bones, and rolled his eyes. "They just keep nodding like this, they can fall asleep standing up. These guys are the most boring, they're no different from dead people."

"You know a lot," Li Wei said casually.

"This is a must-learn skill for gangsters," Kevin said, revealing a few yellowed teeth. "It's no easier than your calculus class."

Ice sellers, grass sellers... everyone has their own sphere of influence and what they should sell. Otherwise, if you run into the wrong customer, you won't even know how you died.

"So you know," Levi stated, "that you're an old hand."

"Yes," Kevin said excitedly, "I've been on this street for three years, and two different bosses have come and gone, but I've still survived. Why? Because I'm smart and have a good eye. I'm the most cautious person on this street. I can smell whether someone has taken drugs or not."

As he spoke, he sniffed the air and then said to Li Wei with great certainty, "You definitely didn't inhale."

"I never touch that stuff," Levi shrugged. "You guessed right."

"Since you're here," Kevin said with a grin, pulling a foil packet of indeterminate color from the gap in the sofa. "Want to give it a try?"

This is great stuff; it'll make your brain explode like fireworks.

"You're the football captain," he gestured, "I'll only charge you $10 the first time, how about that? Those stuff outside, mixed with plaster and pepper, costs $20. If you want something a little more exciting, I have some insider information..."

'

Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open, and a gust of cold wind mixed with an angry roar rushed in.

"Kevin! Stay away from him!"

Michael stood at the door, his chest heaving violently.

He rushed forward, knocked the foil packet out of Kevin's hand, shoved Kevin hard, and pushed him back into the sofa.

"How many times have I told you!" he roared, "Don't bring these things home, and especially don't show them in front of my friends!"

"Oh, look who's back," Kevin sneered. "Isn't this our family's pride, Mom's darling? He's always saying he's out working, but he doesn't bring back a single penny. I wonder where all his studying went."

Michael opened his mouth, but ultimately swallowed his words about saving money.

"Li Wei... thank you for bringing me the book," he said. "It's a bit messy here, I need to talk to my brother."

Li Wei nodded and prepared to leave.

Even as he closed the door, he could still hear Michael and Kevin arguing: "It's me who contributes money to the household every day so that we can afford your education... Mom will side with me when she comes back..."

'

An hour later, Kevin stormed out of the house in a rage.

He went straight to an abandoned basketball court two blocks away.

Several rusty paint buckets were burning wooden boards and waste paper. Five or six young Black men, wearing oversized down jackets and with their hands tucked into their sleeves, were huddled around the fire to keep warm. A pungent smell filled the air.

Kevin walked to the fire and warmed his hands by the flames.

"Look who's here! My best Ni Ge!" one of the largest, older Black men exclaimed excitedly upon seeing Kevin. "Kevin! Franklin High School's number one distributor! How's sales going lately?"

"Recently, Italians have disappeared for some reason," one person said. "My goods are selling quite well; I've earned over $12000 a month."

"Me too," Kevin muttered. "A few students from Queens have been getting their stuff from Gambino, but lately they haven't been able to get in touch with them and are buying from me like crazy. I added some wall plaster and pepper, and they wouldn't even haggle over $20 a bag."

Just as they were chatting, one of the guys next to them suddenly nudged their boss, Scarface, and said, "Hey, boss, look at that car."

Everyone's eyes followed the direction the man pointed—Li Wei was driving his Cadillac Escalade slowly past.

"That guy's been driving around around a lot lately," he licked his lips. "A brand new car worth over $10, all by himself. Why don't we go for it?"

"I agree!"

"I agree!"

"What do you think, Kevin?" Scarface turned to Kevin. "You didn't say anything just now."

"I think we should forget about it," Kevin said in a muffled voice after glancing at him. "That's Michael's friend, and he's become quite famous in the football world lately. Taking him away will cause trouble."

"It's him!" someone said. "I knew he looked familiar. He's that high school football prodigy who's been all the rage lately—"

"Even the greatest genius can't save the Giants."

"Whatever, I'm a fan of the Kansas Chiefs."

"Alright, enough about rugby," Scarface said. "Let's get back to the serious stuff. The Italians have left. What are we going to do?"

'

Although Scarface was only the leader of their small gang, some stories about him circulated on the streets.

Legend has it that the scars on his face were from being captured by a rival gang during a street fight. They burned his face with a red-hot iron. Even under these circumstances, he refused to yield, upholding the dignity of his original gang, and thus earned high respect on the streets.

When you're out on the streets, nothing is more important than saving face and earning respect.

Seeing that the leader had spoken, everyone changed the subject back to how to divide this piece of fat meat.

Recently, all the drug dealers on this street have fled, but the drug users will continue to use them. How to take over the drug users in this area, and who will take over the drug users in this area, has become a problem that the surrounding small gangs have been watching but dare not take action on.

They discussed it for a long time but couldn't come to a conclusion. However, everyone could see that Scarface didn't seem to intend to force his way in and take over this part of the market first.

Kevin actually agreed with Scarface's view that it was a bit dangerous to stick his neck out now, but he also had some dissatisfaction.

Just as he told Li Wei, he had been hanging around for three years, working under two different bosses, and was already considered a veteran on this street.

He also wanted to be a respected person on this street, just like Scarface.

Meanwhile, Li Wei, who had returned home, also received his second scholarship.

I also received a notification to do a charity project over the weekend, and coincidentally, the location was the Mellon University Art Gallery. (Chapter 47)

This means he'll be meeting Elizabeth Mellon again.

Saturday morning at 9 a.m., Mellon Museum of Art in Brooklyn.

He thought he was the first to arrive, but when he got to the side hall, he found that there were already more than a dozen students waiting there.

Most of them received scholarships based on their excellent grades, but the atmosphere at the moment seemed somewhat tense and dull.

Because some gossip, from who-knows-where, claimed that the person who opened this art gallery was about the same age as them, or even that the Mellon family had spent millions of dollars to rent the factory long-term specifically to improve her resume for college admissions, and then converted it into an art gallery.

These people haven't even managed to scrape together enough for college tuition, and they might even end up with a huge student loan debt.

The world's diversity is like a vast chasm.

In contrast, Levi, who was waiting for his Yale University acceptance letter and stipend while also waiting to finalize his contract with the Giants, appeared remarkably relaxed.

Just then, the door to the side hall was pushed open, and the crisp sound of high heels clicking on the marble floor came from inside.

Elizabeth Mellon emerged surrounded by a group of staff.

She wore a well-tailored dark gray cashmere coat and a pearl necklace that, while not extravagant, had a beautiful sheen.

She addressed the staff and photographers and reporters with their long lenses, saying, "Please take some photos for us and assist us with some publicity and promotional work."

"Good morning, everyone," she said. "I am Elizabeth Mellon, and it's a pleasure to see you all here. The Mellon Foundation is dedicated to helping academically excellent and promising individuals. I hope that during your 20 hours of hands-on experience this semester, you will feel Mellon's contribution to this great nation of America. Today's task is mainly to assist staff in cleaning and classifying the catalogs."

Her tone was gentle and polite, and she had a smile on her face; she looked absolutely beautiful.

Seeing the beautiful woman in front of them smile, the already nervous students lowered their heads even further.

However, when Elizabeth's gaze swept across the edge of the crowd, her self-assurance froze.

This was the first time Li Wei had ever seen her lose control of her facial expressions.

He dared to say that Elizabeth had absolutely no idea beforehand that she had actually received a scholarship from the Mellon Foundation, and her momentary astonishment didn't seem like an act.

"Li Wei? What are you doing here?" She called out Li Wei's name immediately, then hesitated for a moment, "You...you come with me, I have some work to arrange for you alone."