Chapter 046: Don’t Forget the Million-Dollar Wager

It was inevitable that Li Lekang would eventually perform in the City of Gambling, but not yet. He still hadn’t made enough money in Los Angeles. Li Lekang was at the peak of his fame, both in popularity and in buzz, and every one of his shows was sold out, tickets nearly impossible to obtain. Scalpers were even hiking up prices intentionally!

Earning money while sitting at his own doorstep—how could he easily let such a golden opportunity slip by? Ultimately, after discussions between the organizers, the management company, and Li Lekang’s chief representative, Judy, a new plan was devised.

Li Lekang could add more shows, but the terms of income distribution, payment settlement, and priority in financial settlement were all renegotiated. Judy, a formidable woman, fought for many favorable conditions on his behalf.

It proved that inviting her to join his team was the right decision: fewer troubles, more money, and performing an extra show or two each day—for the sake of those sweet profits—was still easy and enjoyable.

So Li Lekang’s life settled into a steady rhythm.

His performances were packed with distinguished guests, his reputation soaring, and his earnings for the past month exceeded $600,000, much higher than he had anticipated.

Of course, this was before taxes, but his beloved Judy was already working on ways to reduce his tax expenditures. Since Li Lekang operated as a company, taxes weren’t calculated directly like a salary.

After all, business operations have significant costs. If the income is a million but the costs are nine hundred thousand, obviously only the remaining hundred thousand is taxable. And that’s just the simplest logic—when things get complicated, ordinary people wouldn’t stand a chance of understanding it. Otherwise, why would accountants spend so many years studying and getting certified?

Judy explained the simplest principle: “Let the company spend more money on purchases, and those expenses count as operating costs. You get to enjoy shopping while reducing your taxes.”

In other words, spend more under the company’s name—buying a car, for example, could be considered a magician’s prop, a business expense.

“You really do have a clever mind!” Li Lekang admired her.

In truth, tax strictness in America mainly applies to the middle class and ordinary folks. As for the wealthy—you can’t imagine how aggressively they avoid taxes. Bezos earns $3.8 billion and pays zero taxes; Buffett, $24.3 billion and a tax rate of just 0.1%!

That’s the game of capital manipulating the rules. Li Lekang could only say he was an outsider, a small fish paying tribute to these idols of capital.

At heart, he was a traveler from China, with little sense of belonging in America. He saw this as simply a place to make money, spend it, and have fun. Any money saved would go toward buying a sports car—how could that not be enticing?

Li Lekang was already browsing through sports cars.

With his head resting on Sandra’s firm, shapely thighs, he scrolled on his phone, looking at cars.

He already had a convertible Maserati, but it belonged to the management company, and he personally preferred Ferraris and Lamborghinis. He asked his voluptuous companion, “Which do you think is cooler, the Ferrari 812 or the Lamborghini Huracan convertible?”

Sandra pondered seriously. “I think both are great. The 812 has beautiful lines—plus, GT cars are comfortable, right? Lamborghini is pure style, and both have big, naturally aspirated engines.”

“You actually know a bit about cars,” Li Lekang remarked, surprised as he reassessed her.

Sandra punched him lightly. “That’s just your prejudice against women!”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I thought women were more into bags and shoes, LV and Gucci, like Daisy… But I can only afford one car, and I want them all!”

As he fretted, Judy reminded him, “Perhaps you shouldn’t forget you still have a million-dollar bet on the line.”

“Oh, right!” Li Lekang immediately recalled.

“That guy, what’s his name, Daniel Cooper—he bet a million dollars to expose my secret. The deadline must be approaching. Any news from him?”

Sandra, who kept an eye on the internet, shook her head. “No! I heard last time you had a special show, he attended in person. Security even increased their checks on him, making sure he wasn’t carrying any recording equipment.”

“He definitely doesn’t want to lose just like that—not with a million at stake. By the way, darling, do I have to pay taxes on that money?”

Judy answered without hesitation, “According to federal tax law, you could face up to 45% income tax.”

“Damn those bloodsuckers! They take half my money for doing nothing!”

Judy, always sharp and efficient, played her role as a considerate steward. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it for you. We only have to pay a small portion—you can buy both cars.”

“I really want to kiss you!” Li Lekang was thoroughly pleased.

Judy laughed heartily, glancing at the women always attending to him. “Save your affection, but I’ll accept your goodwill!”

…

Aside from performances and video ads earning him money, the bet was an extra source of income.

Although there was no formal written contract, the bet had been made in front of countless netizens. The other party could renege, but the cost would be enormous—once his reputation was ruined, he’d find it hard to earn a living!

Who told the “Secret Revealing Squad” to challenge Li Lekang in the first place? Wasn’t it all for profit?

If you can’t crack the secret, it means your skills aren’t up to par. But if you refuse to honor the bet, it’s a matter of character—no fan will support you after that.

Admit defeat and keep earning, or stubbornly refuse and starve? Anyone with sense knows what to choose.

The one-month deadline arrived, eagerly awaited by millions of netizens.

The “Secret Revealing Squad” did not release any exposé video.

In fact, Cooper had already admitted defeat. He’d tried countless times over the month, even attempted to bribe backstage staff at Talent Show, hoping to find out what tricks Li Lekang used, but still came up empty-handed.

With the clues he had and his own guesses, he couldn’t reproduce the act on stage. Even if he forced a replication, it would be riddled with flaws, nowhere near as smooth and natural as Li Lekang’s performance, with nothing suspicious visible.

When witnessing Li Lekang’s live lottery prediction, Cooper realized he was up against a formidable opponent; unraveling the secret was not a task for a day or two.

The month’s deadline gave him no leeway, and the agreed date arrived.

The “Secret Revealing Squad” posted a tweet, heavily lamenting their arduous process and core belief: “If given enough time, I could strip it of all mystery.” After a slew of excuses, they casually admitted they hadn’t succeeded, glossing over their failure.

Simultaneously, they sent a representative to contact LAA, expressing willingness to pay the one million dollars. Since they were paying to make the problem disappear, Li Lekang refrained from mocking them at this critical moment, simply posting a celebratory tweet.

But for the netizens, this was yet another boost to Li Lekang’s legendary status.

Even the infamous “Secret Revealing Squad” couldn’t crack his magic tricks—how brilliant must his mind be? Who was the most powerful magician of the new era?

The answer was clear in his fans’ hearts! Li Lekang’s magic gained another aura of strength, and even more spectators eagerly awaited his next performance!