Li Gui met Li Gui!
Mr. Wang was truly remarkable. Master Huang finally waited for Sean to finish speaking, but he was at a loss for words. He shook his head and sighed repeatedly.
"I've encountered many Americans who claim to be well-versed in Chinese culture, but I've never seen anyone quite like Mr. Wang," he thought. "Could it be that he has Chinese ancestry?" It was the only explanation that made sense to him.
"I can appreciate this, but I certainly won't stand for being tricked with fake Moutai," Sean said as he spread his hands. "I've tasted nearly every notable wine in Huaxia. I can tell the real deal from the fake with just a sip."
"You've deceived me. That's like showing off a sword in front of Guan Gong!"
Old Man Huang turned to the hotel owner, who nodded with a strained expression, berating himself for his misfortune. After all these years, the first person to identify the wine's authenticity was a foreigner. It was absurd!
Old Man Huang smacked his lips, feeling a mix of pity and incredulity. He glanced at Sean's group and realized that this was not the place for confrontation over a bottle of wine.
"It's not difficult," Sean said, wiping his mouth and sipping from his teacup. His eyes landed on Old Man Huang's cane. "Hey, this huanghuali is Hainan huanghuali, isn't it?"
Old Man Huang's grip tightened as he offered the cane to Sean.
Sean took it and examined it closely, impressed. "It's rare to see such high-quality huanghuali these days. The color and oiliness are exceptional!" After a moment, he returned the cane. "A gentleman doesn't take what others cherish; I just wanted to appreciate it."
"Now, as for today's matters," Sean continued with a smile, "I love Chinese food and have a diverse palate. From Donglaishun's mutton in old Beijing to Quanjude's roast duck, Tianjin's buns, and Shanxi's noodles—I enjoy it all."
"So, find me a cook. I'll pay a fair salary. For special dishes, just have them delivered hot. Money is no object."
"That's easy enough," Old Man Huang agreed with a nod.
"Secondly, I need the best Feng Shui master; I have a business to open."
"Not a problem!"
"Thirdly, where can I find a master wine blender?" Sean asked casually.
"Mr. Wang, that's asking too much!" Old Man Huang's tone became serious.
"What's the issue? I want the wine blender to work for me for one year. I'll double his income, but he can't leave and must keep it a secret!" Sean's expression turned solemn.
"What type of business are you involved in?" Old Man Huang asked, his fists clenched.
"Wine!" Sean grinned.
Old Man Huang paused, seemingly understanding. He turned to the restaurant owner, who looked equally stunned. "Is this a meeting of Li Gui and Li Gui?!"
Seeing their reactions, Sean laughed heartily. "I'll leave this in your hands, Mr. Huang."
"Alright, I'll agree to it," Old Man Huang said without hesitation. He felt he had little to lose and a connection to gain. Judging by Sean's demeanor, it was clear he held a strong appreciation for China and its culture—someone worth befriending.
Sean felt equally pleased. Not only would he find a Feng Shui master to determine an auspicious opening date, but he also had secured a master wine blender.
In fact, a skilled craftsman was invaluable; even an expert would struggle to discern the nuances otherwise. This arrangement not only solved his future dining needs but also freed him from the confines of his 'laboratory' while expanding his business offerings. It was a significant gain.
After a satisfying meal, Sean asked Old Man Huang to accompany him on a walk through Chinatown. When he spotted antique calligraphy and paintings, he felt an unexpected wave of nostalgia for Rockefeller Manor, which made him uneasy.
"Money doesn't always need to be so clean," he mused. "Art can be bought privately for collection purposes. The IRS can't touch art collections."
But there was no rush.
While exploring Chinatown, Sean asked Old Man Huang's companions to share insights about the area. Initially, they hesitated, but upon realizing Sean's deep connection to China, they began to open up.
After their exploration, Sean bought some snacks, and Mr. Huang had prepared for everyone's return. The only ones staying behind were the wine blender for a few days and two chefs to say goodbye to their families. Sean and the Feng Shui master returned to Newark.
Old Man Huang learned from his connections that Sean had recently emerged as an underground boss in Newark, having overthrown the Salamanca family to seize control of an underground network in eastern New Jersey.
"Mr. Feng Shui, please come back soon to review the site. We have an auspicious day approaching," Sean requested. "And please adjust the Feng Shui layout for the fitness club, including redesigning the front entrance and the parking lot."
The changes weren't substantial—just a few trees, fountains, and minor exterior details. Yet, Sean ensured to follow through on all recommendations.
Once skeptical of such beliefs, he had transformed into a considerate client after his rebirth.
The decoration company, while not necessarily adherents of Feng Shui, complied readily; they feared that any discontent from the Feng Shui master could lead to complications, especially considering how well Sean treated him.
When it was time to depart, Sean handed the Feng Shui master $5,000, leaving him nearly speechless.
With everything in place, December 18 was marked as an auspicious date, perfectly timed just before Christmas, and Sean felt a wave of satisfaction.
The only concern lingering in his mind was how to provide stable housing for the two chefs. It had been over four months since he was reborn, and he still lacked a permanent residence, often rotating between a factory and a Hilton hotel.
He realized it was time to find a proper place to call home. But where?
"I'm a good person, and I know many unsavory characters will be keeping an eye on me. Safety is paramount," he thought.
He had a nagging feeling that trouble was lurking nearby.
In the meantime, the chefs could temporarily stay at the factory, while he would put off the real estate issue for now. The pressing priority was to open the fitness club; currently, Sean's legal properties were entangled in a series of negative transactions. He had no chance of purchasing any real estate at this moment.
Previously, fitness equipment had been bought on installment plans, funded by the mortgage of a property he no longer owned. If he didn't get the club up and running soon, he feared he would face bankruptcy.
On the 18th, Sean extended invitations to Police Chief Wells and Congressman Johnson Ted to attend the ribbon-cutting ceremony.
With the preparations in full swing, Sean felt a thrilling mix of anticipation and anxiety, eager to see his vision come to fruition while navigating the complexities of his new life.