My absurd experiences in North America over the years

The next morning, sunlight streamed in at an angle through the French windows, filtering through the gaps in the curtains and casting a long, warm shadow on the edge of the bed.

Taylor Swift was the first to wake up. When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Li Fu's profile, with his cheek contours and curves being almost perfect.

He was still asleep, his breathing steady and long, one hand resting lightly on Taylor Swift's waist, as if he wanted to make sure she was by his side even in his sleep.

The morning light fell on his jawline, outlining his features clearly yet softly. When he was asleep, he seemed less distant than when he was awake, more like a big boy, even though he was already twenty-seven years old.

Taylor Swift turned to the side and watched quietly for a while before reluctantly looking away. She then quietly propped herself up a little and leaned closer to Li Fu on the pillow.

Perhaps it's because of boredom, or perhaps it's because people are deeply in love, that even the most mundane and trivial things can become interesting.

She actually started counting Li Fu's eyelashes.

When he counted to the seventh one, Li Fu slightly turned over.

Taylor Swift stopped counting, afraid of disturbing him. She waited two seconds to make sure he wasn't awake before continuing to count, but she forgot which one was the seventh one.

So, we started all over again.

When they reached the thirteenth stick, Li Fu's lips curved slightly, and then he turned to the side and hugged her in his arms.

Taylor Swift had to stop again, just as she was trying to confirm whether Li Fu was really awake, his hand moved up from her waist, placed his palm on her head, and pulled her closer to him.

"What are you doing?"

His voice was hoarse from just waking up, and his eyes were only half open.

"I...I was counting your eyelashes," Taylor Swift paused before admitting her "boredom."

As she muttered her admission, her expression was both charming and playful, yet also innocent and carefree.

Li Fu couldn't help but kiss her forehead.

"Have you counted them? How many are there?"

"No, the first time I counted to seven, the second time to thirteen, and then you woke up..."

"Looks like I should have woken up a little later," Li Fu said with a smile.

"No need," Taylor Swift buried her face in his chest, then lifted it up after a while. "Your eyelashes are quite long."

"Not even half as pretty as you," Li Fu said, ruffling her long hair.

Taylor Swift didn't reply, but simply rested her chin on his chest and looked at him quietly, like a masterpiece of art that one could never tire of looking at.

She counts her eyelashes not to know how many there are, but because she likes them.

Just like many people in their youth, they can be so captivated by the sight of their crush's back that they can't come back to their senses for a long time. It's not that they want anything in return, but it's just driven by their inner emotions.

The sunlight shifted a little distance on the bed sheet, and it was eight o'clock in the morning.

Taylor Swift sat up and stretched, a habit she had when she got up. But this time, she suddenly exclaimed and quickly withdrew her outstretched arm.

This was the first time she had shared a bed with a man, and she forgot that she was completely naked.

Li Fu looked at her with a smile in his eyes, clearly having seen everything just now, like a delicate flower in early spring, with infinite beauty.

Taylor Swift blushed, gave a soft hum, and instead threw herself into his arms.

Since they already had this kind of relationship, did it really matter whether she looked or not? She wasn't angry or embarrassed; she just needed some time to adjust.

Just then, the phone on the bedside table suddenly vibrated.

Li Fu reached out and took it, glancing at the screen. It was Thompson calling, meaning the investigation must have yielded results.

He put one arm around Taylor Swift's delicate shoulder, pressed the answer button with the other, and put the phone to his ear.

"Mr. Li, I've found some clues," Thompson said in a serious tone, his voice deliberately lowered. "Most universities in California have Japanese studies programs, and there are two or three Japanese culture research clubs around Los Angeles that are active year-round. On the surface, they are cultural exchange groups, but in reality, they have clear connections with the sponsorship network of right-wing Japanese organizations."

This is clearly more serious than Li Fu had anticipated.

"Is it possible to trace the source of their funding?"

"Currently, we can only find some vague clues, but if nothing unexpected happens, their operating funds will likely come from three companies: Mitsubishi Heavy Industries North America, Sumitomo Corporation North America, and Panasonic North America."

Thompson had no evidence, but these three small conglomerates had close ties with those organizations.

Li Fu was not surprised by the list of companies Thompson provided.

Mitsubishi Heavy Industries is actually Japan's largest military industrial enterprise, with products covering almost all military fields, including fighter jets, submarines, and tanks.

He has provided huge political donations to right-wing politicians over the years, is a core funder of the right-wing group "Go Japan! National Action Committee", and is one of the main supporters of repeatedly revising history textbooks.

Sumitomo Group is one of the oldest zaibatsu in Japan, and together with Mitsubishi and Mitsui, it is known as one of the three major economic backers of the right wing of Japan.

Its core companies (such as Sumitomo Chemical) have long maintained high levels of political donations, and their influence extends throughout the political and academic circles.

As for Panasonic, it's no better. As a well-known consumer electronics giant, like Mitsubishi Heavy Industries, Panasonic also appears on the list of companies that support the revision of history textbooks and has long funded the activities of right-wing groups.

"How exactly do they work?" This was the question that Li Fu was most concerned about.

"On the surface, these clubs promote culture such as tea ceremony, flower arrangement, and kendo, but they regularly hold history lectures, mostly about different perspectives on the Pacific War, downplaying Japan's aggressive behavior in World War II under the guise of academic neutrality... and it has been going on for a long time," Thompson had a vague impression when he was in school, but he did not expect that the situation in West Coast colleges and universities was so serious.

"There should be students receiving financial aid, right?" Li Fu was quite familiar with the tricks of these bastards.

After all, Japan successfully cultivated a large number of traitors in China through this method, and they are probably still active in the country today.

"Yes, Mr. Li is really amazing, he guessed it right away," Thompson exclaimed, then got back to the main point, "They often sponsor students who participate in these activities to go on short-term study tours in their local area. These study tour programs are directly funded by the Japanese conglomerate. Essentially, they are taking potential opinion leaders to experience Japanese culture and cultivate their goodwill towards Japan."

Li Fu listened attentively. By then, the sun was higher, and it was almost 8:30. "Compile the detailed list and information and send it to my email."

"Okay, I'll be right there," Thompson said, hanging up the phone.

Li Fu leaned against the headboard and fell into a brief moment of contemplation; he had to think of a way to deal with it.

Taylor Swift lay on his shoulder, unable to discern what had happened from the few words he spoke. She assumed it was a business matter, as her lover controlled a vast business empire and being busy was to be expected.

She didn't ask any further questions, but simply enjoyed the rare moment of tenderness.

As a superstar, she knew all too well that, let alone Li Fu, even she herself sometimes couldn't spare a single spare moment when she was busy.