Chapter 78: Chapter 70: Breaking Free from the Execution Line

His family had to rely on Google Translate just to make sense of the itemized bill.

General Anesthesia: 14,250 USD. Attending Physician, Assistant Physician, and Anesthesiologist’s Professional Fees: 25,335.12 USD.

’Where the hell did that 12 cents come from? Are they billing by the second?’

Operating Room Fee (3.5 hours) + Supplies: 62,400 USD!

’Is my dad part of some space shuttle project? Over 60,000 USD for a surgery that was just over three hours long!’

Staring at the endless list of other charges, although he was loath to admit it, for one fleeting moment, Wang Haoran truly wished that Wang Qiang wasn’t his father.

’If a middle-class white guy with insurance were his dad, he’d never be in this mess!’

’Just great. Now they had to move!’

"Alright," Ms. Palmer said, shifting her massive frame. "I have to remind you, um... while the rent in Sunset Park is much cheaper, and it’s a hub for the Chinese community just like Flushing, the living conditions really can’t compare."

"I know," Wang Haoran said, still angry. "It’s just... my father just had surgery, and he’s paid weekly, with no insurance, so..."

"God bless you. I hope your father has a speedy recovery," Ms. Palmer said, giving him a sympathetic look. "So, your landlord is refusing to renew your lease?"

"Yes," Wang Haoran said with a frown. "Once the landlord found out about the bills, he refused to renew our lease. We had no choice but to find a temporary place in Sunset Park."

He didn’t mention that it was a small basement apartment for 850 USD a month, utilities not included, where the humidity was constantly over 75% and the ceiling was a crisscrossing mess of exposed cast-iron drainage pipes.

"Oh, dear, that’s awful," Ms. Palmer said, looking at him with pity. "What’s your father’s credit score now? Is it even 500?"

"It hasn’t changed," Wang Haoran shook his head. "It’s still 720, which is barely in the ’excellent’ range."

"I figured as much," Ms. Palmer couldn’t help but ask. "Normally, it would take at least a month for the score to change. How did your landlord find out? You know, son, if you’re running into trouble, the school can arrange for a lawyer to help you."

"That’s not it, Ms. Palmer," Wang Haoran explained, forcing himself to remain calm. "Our landlord is a doctor. He found out about my father’s bill through the hospital’s system."

’Damn that landlord. We’re both Chinese, why couldn’t he cut us some slack?’

"Well..." Ms. Palmer said as she updated his information in the system. "Good luck. I hope your father gets well soon... And if you need to find a part-time job, you can come see me."

...

When Li Wei got home from his part-time job that evening, he found Don Quixote drinking with Jose.

"Hey, nephew," Don Quixote said, raising his glass. "Come on, have a drink with us."

"You know I have to be 21 to drink legally, right?" Li Wei said with a smile as he joined them. "You’ll never get custody of me this way."

"Fack! Who cares about them!" Don Quixote slurred. "I’m telling you, Susan bought that building in the Bronx today! It’s officially under our asset management company’s name now!"

"Congratulations!" Li Wei said, grabbing a can of beer and tapping it against Don Quixote’s. "How much of a stake did you get again? 5%? Does that mean you’re suddenly worth 50,000 USD?"

"Fifty thousand?" Don Quixote wagged a finger. "Dead wrong. I’m worth 126,000 USD! Susan spent 1.26 million USD to buy out all the remaining units in the building, and she gave me a 10% stake in the end!"

"But I’m telling you," he said, "in less than six months, that 1.26 million USD will appreciate to 4 million, maybe even more."

"By the time you’re ready for college next year," he said gloatingly, "I can cash out my stake, and your tuition will be paid for, just like that."

"I have to thank Don for the opportunity, too," Jose said, also raising his glass. "He’s willing to give my wife and me a job, and he’s teaching me how to get a work permit by applying for asylum."

"But you have to be careful," Don Quixote reminded him. "You need to stay clean for at least 180 days, with absolutely no criminal record. Otherwise, you won’t get the work permit, and if you don’t have a work permit, I can’t get you on the insurance."

"And during those 180 days, I need you to get clean," he said. "No more using from now on."

"I swear on my wife’s life and mine," Jose immediately vowed. "I’ll do whatever you say."

"You should thank Susan; she’s the one giving you a chance," Don Quixote said with a smile. "By the way, I’m now a Senior Manager at ’Apex’ Asset Management."

After Jose had left, Don Quixote privately told Li Wei that his monthly salary had jumped from 3,500 USD after taxes to 15,000 USD before taxes.

Susan had also agreed to hire him as a full-time employee, providing him with medical and various other types of insurance.

While it wasn’t a top-tier salary in New York, it was certainly more than respectable for the time being.

Of course, after factoring in the 19% federal income tax, 6.2% FICA payroll tax, 6.2-6.5% New York State income tax, and 3.4-3.6% New York City income tax, the 15,000 USD would come down to a little over 9,700 USD take-home.

And that was before deducting another 2,000 USD in alimony, which took the 15,000 USD pre-tax salary down to 7,700 USD take-home, effectively cutting it in half.