My absurd experiences in North America over the years

Kushner's office is in an office building in Midtown Manhattan. It is not large, but it is tastefully decorated.

A dark walnut bookcase occupied an entire wall, crammed with legal texts and family archives, while several financial statements and an open notebook lay on the desk.

The skyline outside the window remained hazy and gray even in winter, with the spire of the Empire State Building appearing and disappearing in the smog.

He leaned back in his chair, a cup of coffee that had gone cold, his gaze fixed on the LCD screen on the opposite wall. It was a PowerPoint presentation of a survey report, with several names circled in red at the conclusion on the last page…

Li Fu and Forrest Capital invested $1 billion in the Trump Organization and another $200 million to acquire a stake in the Trump Hotel Tower in Chicago.

The investigation report, prepared by a private investigator, is thirty-seven pages long and begins with Li Fu's first meeting with Lucy in Los Angeles, continuing up to his investment in Williams Realty in Nashville last month.

Kushner had watched it three times, and each time he finished watching it, his face grew even more somber.

He picked up the coffee cup, only to find that the coffee had gone cold and was extremely bitter, so he put it down heavily.

The coffee cup slammed against the table with a dull thud, sounding particularly jarring in the quiet office.

Ivanka's phone has been unreachable for some time now—no, it's not that it's unreachable, but that she simply doesn't answer.

He called seven times, and each time it went to voicemail after the third ring. After the fourth time, he dialed a different number, but the same thing happened. He suspected that he had been blocked.

Kushner's attention was drawn to a newspaper his assistant had brought to his desk.

The latest issue of The New York Observer features a striking headline on its front page: "Trump Group Receives Billion-Dollar Bailout, New York Real Estate Winter May Be Over."

He picked up the sample copy and quickly glanced through it, his gaze lingering on the name "Li Fu" for a long time before finally placing the copy on the corner of the table.

It would be a lie to say that I have no regrets now.

He shouldn't have pressured Ivanka on the grounds of religious belief, or at least the timing was wrong. If they hadn't broken up yet, the Trump family would have received a huge injection of funds, which could at least help them get through this difficult time, right?

Kushner leaned back in his chair, slowly closed his eyes, and tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest as he recalled the sweet moments he shared with Ivanka at this time last year.

At that time, he thought everything would proceed as planned, with marriage and cooperation, and the two families would be bound together from then on.

Now, a message sent a week ago appears on his phone screen: "Ivanka, we need to talk."

There has been no response to date.

Does he like Ivanka?

The answer is yes. Perhaps it's not a matter of love, but who wouldn't like a socialite from a prominent family who is top-notch in appearance, figure, and temperament?

However, it seems that the other person is drifting further and further away from him, and may even be about to fall into the arms of someone else.

He slammed his fist on the table in anger, spilling the cold coffee instantly. If he couldn't have it, no one else could either.

The squid's "pride" and malice are vividly displayed at this moment.

When Li Fu arrived in New York, it was snowing lightly in Manhattan. The snowflakes were fine and dense, making a very soft rustling sound as they fell on the windows.

He sat in a conference room on the top floor of Trump Tower, opposite Ivanka and the Trump Organization's project team.

Ivanka wore a white shirt today, her hair was tied in a low ponytail, and her makeup was very light. She looked more energetic than the last time we met.

"The construction permit for the Queens project should be issued next week," Ivanka said, opening a folder and lightly tracing the planning map with her finger. "We've changed the subcontractors, and the security plan has been redone. We're going to install sixteen cameras around the site and have people on duty 24 hours a day."

Li Fu took the planning map, glanced at it, and nodded. "Are your construction teams all ready? When will work resume?"

"The earliest," Ivanka said, closing the folder. "The government's building administration will come to inspect the site tomorrow afternoon. If there are no safety hazards, construction can begin."

"What time tomorrow afternoon?" Li Fu asked casually.

"Three o'clock, do you want to come with me?" Ivanka looked at him and casually brushed her bangs back.

Li Fu shook his head. "Let's not go!"

The construction site has been idle for almost two years. It's just an unfinished building. What's so interesting about it? Besides, there are more than one place that needs to be started. We can't possibly inspect them all, can we?

However, he also had a strange feeling in his heart.

I have a feeling that things are going too smoothly; who knows what might happen during this trip to New York.

That evening, Ivanka hosted a banquet for Li Fu, who had traveled from afar.

The two men's conversation extended from the current state of New York real estate to politics, economics, and future development trends.

Both expressed a certain degree of disgust towards the rise of the "freedom banner" and the LGBT movement in the past two years.

The so-called freedom is not the freedom understood domestically; to some extent, it is more akin to doing whatever one pleases.

To give a simple example, it can amplify certain ideas, such as a woman's frequent saying after marriage: "My body is my own, I can do whatever I want with it."

This actually implies that letting go of shame will lead to greater happiness.

To put it bluntly, it's just making excuses for one's own misconduct.

This is not just baseless speculation; many films have hinted at it, or even explicitly stated it, and this trend has even spread to Eastern European films and television dramas.

So-called bodily freedom means that the act of cheating is no longer restricted and there is no sense of guilt.

The theoretical foundation is simply because the body is one's own.

This outrageous "ideology" was, to some extent, carried forward and popularized by the later Democratic Party.

Traditional morality and family values ​​are facing serious challenges.

This is also a major reason why many traditional white families dislike the Democratic Party.

Of course, this was all part of an extreme "liberal" ideology that intensified during Obama's eight years in office.

It has made many major cities more "open".

As for the present situation, liberal ideas are only beginning to emerge and are not yet serious.

The LGBT movement, in comparison, gained much more momentum, sweeping across the United States and even the world in just a few years.

This is a politically correct issue that even the British Prime Minister wouldn't dare to touch lightly; only Trump dares to speak his mind.

When Sunak finally mustered the courage to shout "Men are men, and women are women" at the National Congress, winning thunderous applause, Great Britain had already been poisoned by LGBT ideology for over a decade.

Li Fu and Ivanka both expressed some concern about these ideas, and this shared understanding made their dinner conversation very pleasant.

The next day, on the other side of New York, in East Queens, a drug deal was taking place.

An abandoned 20-story building stands at the northeast corner of the intersection, with most of the paint on the exterior walls peeling off, revealing the gray-black bricks underneath.

The roller shutter door on the first floor was covered in graffiti, which rattled in the wind like a tattered flag.

Construction on this building has been halted for nearly two years. Originally planned as a mixed-use commercial and residential complex, it became a temporary residence for some homeless people and a trading place for drug addicts after the developer ran out of funds.

In the underground parking garage on the second basement level, a white van was parked in the passageway next to the elevator shaft. Its taillights were off, and there were no lights inside the vehicle.

The cargo box contained thirty sealed black plastic bags, each weighing five kilograms. The bags were labeled with numbers, from 001 to 030, and were sealed tightly with transparent tape.

A bald man in a black hoodie jumped out of the truck, touched the scar on his head, and glanced at his watch. "Delivery time is up, and those Chicagoans still aren't here."

Another person leaning against the wall held an unlit cigarette, twirling it between his fingers. "What's the rush? Good stuff is worth the wait."

The bald man didn't reply. He took out his phone from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and saw there were still no new messages.

He shoved his phone back into his pocket, paced irritably down the corridor, and muttered, "Do you know how much this shipment is worth? All those small shops in the neighborhood couldn't sell this much in two months. The higher-ups are watching!"

The other person put a cigarette in their mouth and said, "There's nothing I can do. They're always slow to act. It's not like this is your first time doing business with them."

Just then, footsteps came from the end of the passage.

Several people simultaneously became alert and reached for their waists.

"It's me," a short, stout man emerged from the darkness, wearing a gray suit and a smile on his face.

Behind him followed two burly men carrying black briefcases; their shoulder muscles bulged beneath their suits, clearly indicating they were trained fighters.

The bald man and the others finally breathed a sigh of relief; the person who was supposed to pick up the goods had finally arrived.

"Is everything ready?" the short, stout man asked.

The bald man patted the side door of the truck. "Thirty, full weight, where's the money?"

The short, stout man made a gesture to the burly man behind him.

The two opened the black briefcase, which was filled with neatly stacked US dollars, each bundle sealed with transparent plastic that gleamed with a bluish-green light under the lamp.

The bald man walked over, picked up a bundle of banknotes, and examined them against the light. The watermark was clear, and the paper felt right.

"The last batch of goods wasn't pure enough. I hope you won't try to pass off inferior goods as superior ones this time," the short, fat man suddenly said, his smile still on his face, but his tone had turned cold.

The bald man stood up, dusted off his hands, and said, "Your people probably mixed something in there, didn't they? There's never been a problem with my shipments."

They came from a large gang with branches throughout the United States—the Mexican gang, whose drug network spanned almost every state.

The short, stout man and his gang came from the Chicago crime lords and were considered one of their "distributors".

"Whether there's a problem or not isn't up to you to decide," the short, fat man said, his smile fading as he pulled a cell phone from his pocket. The screen displayed a map of Queens, New York.

At this moment, several red dots are flashing.

"What is this?" The bald man's expression changed slightly.

The Mexican gang members behind him immediately drew their guns.

"I have questions for you too!" The short, fat man's smile vanished, and he shouted sternly.

Just then, hurried footsteps came from the end of the passage, and a young man in a hoodie ran in, panting.

"We've received word that the Building Authority and the Environmental Protection Agency are on their way here to inspect the building. Their vehicles are already at the street corner, so we need to leave immediately."

The bald man paused, then said, "Investigate? What's there to investigate in this dilapidated building?"

The young man swallowed hard. "I heard the developer is going to resume construction. Government officials are coming to inspect the site, assess structural safety, and check for underground pollution. They're checking the entire building, including the second basement level."

The bald man's face darkened.

He glanced at the thirty plastic bags in the truck, then at the briefcase in the short, stout man's hand.

A newly received encrypted command appeared on the short, stout man's phone screen: "Government investigators have arrived. All transactions are suspended. Personnel must evacuate immediately."

He put away his phone, closed the two suitcases, handed them to his subordinate, then straightened his crooked tie, his tone quite serious, "Looks like today isn't the right time. Leave the goods with you for now, we'll find a place next time."

He turned and walked deeper into the passage, with several subordinates following behind him.

"Shit," the bald man cursed, staring at his retreating figure, and kicked over an empty oil drum next to him.

The oil drum rolled seven or eight steps away, then crashed into the wall at the end of the passage with a dull thud.

The two groups quickly made their way out.

The passageway returned to silence.

Only the person leaning against the wall remained. He lit the cigarette in his mouth, took a deep drag, and the smoke slowly dissipated in the darkness.

Around 3 p.m.

Li Fu hadn't originally planned to come, but decided to visit after Ivanka's invitation.

After all, this is the first construction site to resume work.

They stood in the lobby of the abandoned building, sunlight streaming in through the broken windows and casting dappled shadows on the floor.

The graffiti in the corner was layered on top of each other, the newest one depicting a grinning skull with the words "Vice Lords" crookedly written next to it—it was actually the Lords of Sin.

These guys even have a base in New York?

Four staff members from the building bureau arrived, carrying flashlights, tools, and a record board. They tapped and rubbed on each wall, noting down the location and length of the cracks in their notebooks.

Three staff members from the Environmental Protection Agency, one carrying a sampling box and the other holding a handheld testing device, were collecting samples around the construction site.

Several police officers accompanied them.

The police station was well aware that the area was somewhat dangerous, with homeless people and drug addicts frequently loitering in the neighborhood, and gangsters active there.

The staff of the Environmental Protection Agency went from the outside to the inside, and then went down the stairs to the second basement level.

Li Fu followed behind. The stairwell was dark, and the beam of the flashlight flickered on the walls, making the peeling paint look like pale faces.

The air on the second basement level was damp, mixed with an indescribable musty smell, and tiny dust particles floated in the beam of light where the flashlight swept across.

The UNEP staff walked to the elevator shaft, squatted down, and placed the detector's probe on the ground.

The detector emitted a short beep.

"There are traces of pollution in the soil here. We need to take samples back for testing," he said, opening the sampling box, taking out a small shovel and a glass bottle, and starting to dig sampling holes in the ground.

Li Fu stood to the side, and the beam of his flashlight inadvertently swept across the wall of the passageway, revealing a fresh tire track at the base of the wall, as if it had just been run over.

His gaze followed the tire tracks and stopped in the shadows of a corner, where a stubbed-out cigarette butt lay, the gold ring on the filter clearly visible.

His flashlight beam paused for a moment on the cigarette butt, indicating that someone had been in the basement just now.

Some of my bad premonitions seem to have been confirmed.

“I think we still need to be careful,” he walked up to Ivanka and whispered in her ear, “I have a bit of a grudge against the Sin Lords gang, and this seems to be one of their hideouts.”

"Gangsters? Don't worry about that," Ivanka said, her brow furrowing slightly.

She frowned not only because of what Li Fu said, but also because his warm breath tickled her ear.

However, she did not raise any objections.

She wasn't really worried about these gangs.

Gangs may indeed be unscrupulous in some ways, but openly opposing the government is tantamount to courting death.

Their large-scale resumption of work was actively supported by the government.

"I'm worried that someone might support them," Li Fu said pointedly.

Will Kushner watch them stride forward?