Chapter 139: Watch My Mind-Reading Skills

If Li Lekang were to hop into a golf cart, zip ahead, and use magic to nudge the ball before it came to a stop, a hole-in-one would be a trivial feat.

But this was merely a social game; being that pedantic would ruin the fun. Like everyone else, Li Lekang stood watching with anticipation as the ball rolled slowly toward the cup.

A single gust of wind would have sent it in, but alas, it grazed the edge—missing the mythic glory of a long-distance hole-in-one by the narrowest of margins.

This outcome actually brought a sense of relief to the participants, who chuckled and applauded, praising Li Lekang’s impressive skill; reaching the green in one stroke was already staggering.

Had he actually sunk the shot, it would have left everyone else with nothing to contribute. If a subordinate were playing with their boss, they probably wouldn’t be invited back.

However, in today’s social setting, Li Lekang stood as an equal. There was no need to pander to a superior; his goal was simply to show off and assert his presence. Otherwise, listening to that old blowhard Trump drone on about how "nobody knows golf better than him" would be far less amusing than listening to him later claim that "nobody knows the Grandmaster of Golf better than him."

Clearly, after such a display, even Woods had to offer a few words of praise. Even by the standards of a professional tour, that shot was remarkable.

The group piled into their carts and headed to the first green. True enough, they found Li Lekang’s white ball resting just two meters from the hole—a distance even an amateur could sink with a putter.

On a standard par-4, Li Lekang had reached the green in one and was poised to secure a beautiful eagle.

Trump was already praising him: "Looks like that beer is on me!"

The others chimed in with laughter and agreement, keeping the atmosphere lively. That is how these big shots conduct their games; technique is secondary, and the social atmosphere is paramount. Why else would Woods’ performance be only marginally better?

The rest of the round proceeded without much note. Li Lekang didn’t show off any more excessive, stunning skills, opting instead to keep pace with Woods. And Woods, the sycophant that he was, naturally kept pace with Trump.

The group chatted and laughed as they played. Throughout the round, Ivanka’s understanding of Li Lekang’s abilities grew. She keenly sensed the nonchalance in his swing—he wasn’t even trying.

She took the opportunity to strike up a conversation: "I never imagined Mr. Li was so skilled at golf."

"I’m quite good with all kinds of balls," Li Lekang replied, referring to balls in general.

The First Daughter smiled and added, "I know. I have an intuition about these things!"

Li Lekang glanced at the glamorous mother and said casually, "If you get the chance, I could teach you. I have a special method—it’s very effective."

"Like that amazing magic of yours?" she asked curiously.

"Some call it witchcraft," Li Lekang joked. "You’ll know once you try it!"

Ivanka smiled, showing her teeth in a knowing way.

The sharp-witted First Daughter began to ponder. She had long heard her father say that the Saints were a peculiar group—powerful, yet difficult to discuss in depth. After all, one had to respect their freedom of belief; it was a matter of political correctness.

Opportunities to see them actively seeking strategic cooperation with the outside world were rare. She knew her father’s situation well; the luster had faded, and after four years of turmoil, things were worse than before.

He had gone through a long period of isolation, unable to accept reality, followed by a career slump that saw him drop off the Forbes 400 list for the first time in over a decade.

When others left office, they usually enjoyed high-profile success—publishing memoirs, joining conglomerates, and raking in money through various business ventures. Only he was universally disliked, with his family dragged into the mess. Facing a mountain of legal investigations, he had even moved out of his old home in New York overnight, hiding away in Florida for peace.

Was there hope for a comeback? That was a question for three years from now.

For now, stabilizing the family’s influence and securing their roots was their top priority. In the past, they hadn't interacted much, and the Saints hadn't paid them much mind. But with a change in leadership, the external policy had shifted—the opportunity had arrived.

Feeling the weight of the family’s future on her shoulders, Ivanka possessed the drive of a woman in power. She knew her father was getting on in years, and if the younger generation didn't fight for opportunities, they would slip away.

Family revival wouldn’t be her effort alone; her siblings were competitors, too. To secure a better standing, she had to put in the work, especially when faced with a promising partner.

The afternoon of golf passed pleasantly, and evening brought the banquet. With the rapport established during the day, the dinner was much more relaxed. Trump, his wife, and the First Daughter with her husband were all in attendance—a clear display of the family’s hierarchy.

The old man was aging, and his mind occasionally wandered. Whoever stayed by his side to handle affairs was clearly the designated successor.

From this perspective, Ivanka’s charm as a powerful woman was on display, whether intentional or not. She steered the flow of the dinner, effortlessly referencing the day’s golf and her burgeoning admiration for their guest.

"I truly admire Mr. Li. Not only is his artistic career extraordinary, but his achievements in sports and economics are just as formidable."

Clearly, a woman’s sharp intuition was at work.

Of the two visitors from the Saints, Stohl and Li Lekang, it appeared on the surface that Stohl was the leader and Li Lekang the second-in-command. But after observing them all afternoon, she realized that wasn't the case.

Stohl treated Li Lekang with reverence, never once using a commanding tone. On the contrary, Li Lekang was surrounded by two beautiful bodyguards who catered to his every whim, full of spirit and vitality.

Furthermore, regarding the appreciation of female beauty, Stohl seemed indifferent; he only cared about discussing the "big picture" with Trump and paid little mind to Ivanka.

Li Lekang was different. He clearly appreciated her—the First Daughter knew a man’s gaze like the back of her hand. It was only natural for men to be fascinated by her.

And so, Li Lekang’s appreciation gave her the chance for deeper engagement. After all, that was the advantage of a beautiful woman. She wanted to use this to gain insight into the Saints and their stance on the potential partnership.

Trump saw this coming as well and smiled, allowing his daughter to exercise the social privileges of a beautiful woman.

When the conversation at the table turned to his "miracles," Li Lekang didn’t mind elaborating. He claimed to have a thorough mastery of all things—balls, basketball, soccer, golf, sports, art, and even the human heart.

"That sounds like metaphysics," the First Daughter remarked, her eyes fixed on him.

"That’s why people like to call me a wizard," Li Lekang replied mysteriously.

"Then... what do you think I am thinking right now?" She intended to flatter him, planning to give a vaguely agreeable response regardless of what he said.

But as soon as Li Lekang spoke, she was stunned: "You’re thinking that no matter what I say, you’ll give me a positive response to make me feel comfortable and pleased with this conversation."

"Whoa!"

Even Ivanka, who had spent years in the political arena and weathered many storms, couldn't suppress her shock after having her inner thoughts so precisely exposed. She betrayed her composure!