Chapter 138: The Show-Off King’s Moment

Clearly, the Trump family was still brimming with curiosity. To the outside world, Li Lekang was known chiefly as a wildly popular, celebrated magician. But his other identity—as a partner in a religious organization? The title seemed rather incongruous. The two industries did not appear to have much in common, which naturally made people curious.

No one doubted it, though. Saint leader Stell would not joke about something like this, and men of power were hardly likely to lose their minds and make themselves look ridiculous.

That alone proved that Li Lekang must possess something extraordinary...

While Trump was still chatting away in his usual carefree manner, the eldest princess, Elena, whose feminine intuition was sharp, had already set her imagination loose.

He was a famous magician. Although she had never seen him perform in person, the videos of his shows were truly astonishing—enough to make anyone wonder whether he had actually used magic.

And the Saints? It was a complicated organization. Their religion was not purely religious; it looked more like a political party—a party with strict rules and order. Their discipline was strong enough to shame the fence-sitters in both major parties.

Thus, after boldly combining magic with sorcery, religion with miracles, the clever Elena arrived at a conclusion:

Was he some kind of holy con man?

Since ancient times, powerful rulers had never lacked strange and extraordinary figures at their side—people capable of manipulating so-called supernatural phenomena. The famed holy monk of Tsarist Russia was one such example.

The inference made perfect sense. The only weakness was the lack of a solid chain of evidence. For instance, if he was merely a magician, why did all those powerful figures acknowledge him?

She could not figure that out for the time being.

But soon, Li Lekang would show them exactly why he was so formidable.

As they chatted, the golf game was about to begin.

Trump said that he had already finished warming up. He suggested that their guest, who had come from far away, play a little match.

“Of course, Mr. Woods will serve as our benchmark!”

Woods, wearing a dark expression, replied with an air of honor. “I believe this will be a pleasant and surprising day!”

Li Lekang curled his lips. He paid little attention to the flatterer.

His attention was not really focused on the portly old man, either. If anything, Elena, the hot mom, was far more attractive.

Of course, none of them compared with the true purpose of his visit today: putting on a show.

They returned to the tee. Following the principle of ladies first, the eldest princess went ahead.

This was a par-four hole. Professional players could usually reach it in four strokes. A top-tier expert like Woods had the ability to score a birdie in three, and with extraordinary luck, an eagle in two.

Elena was mainly there as a companion and practice partner. Her own golf skills were average. Compared with her father, who was always fond of playing golf, and professional champions like Woods, she was nowhere near their level.

Her opening drive traveled less than two hundred yards, which was respectable for a woman and showed that she practiced fairly often.

Then it was Trump’s turn. He swung and sent the ball more than two hundred yards, drawing cheers from everyone.

One yard was equal to 0.9144 meters.

Woods followed, hitting it more than two hundred yards. Another of Trump’s friends did roughly the same, and when Stell took his turn, his result was about equal as well.

Li Lekang stood to one side and understood immediately.

These men were not playing golf. They were playing the game of human relationships.

He could understand the others, but he refused to believe that Woods was really on the same level as Trump.

What a bunch of flatterers!

Li Lekang grinned. Elena, who had been curious about him all along, was clearly watching him too. When she saw him smile, she said, “Sir, it’s your turn.”

Li Lekang nodded at her, then accepted a club from the female bodyguard. He weighed it in his hand before stepping into the teeing area. He looked into the distance and even gestured toward the target, estimating the range.

“Young man, what is he trying to do?”

Trump grew somewhat interested. Seeing the young man gesture toward the far side, he wondered whether Li Lekang was planning some kind of flashy trick.

Li Lekang glanced at the golden-haired man and smiled. “I’d like to see whether I can shorten the distance and reach the green in one shot. The wind seems to be in my favor.”

“Oh, our young man is going to challenge the limits!”

Trump tossed out the remark casually, then put on the professional fake smile of someone eager to watch the fun.

It seemed that every member of the Trump family knew how to smile like that.

Li Lekang understood at once. He knew the old man’s personality: vulgar, domineering, and extremely conceited.

Trump had even publicly praised his daughter’s sexy figure in front of the media, saying that if she were not his daughter, he would date her.

Such unfiltered remarks were no different from those made by countless rednecks. It was no wonder so many rednecks liked him and considered him especially genuine.

So when dealing with Trump, Li Lekang naturally had no intention of showing the modesty expected in China, nor the caution a junior might display before someone more powerful.

None of that was necessary. This kind of person did not care for such things.

Li Lekang certainly would not bother with them. He simply let his edge show.

“If I manage it, you’ll owe me a beer. How about that?”

“Good. I like that!”

Trump smiled with interest.

“Let’s see what you can do!”

His manner was that of an interviewer, or perhaps a chief executive testing the abilities of a subordinate. Li Lekang had little fondness for that sort of personality, but he could understand it.

After all, he had heard that Trump occasionally woke from dreams still confused, unable to accept that he was no longer president. In some respects, Li Lekang did feel sympathy for the weak.

But he would also conquer them with overwhelming strength.

He swung the club violently.

The golf ball shot into the air along a lofty arc!

This time, he used magic. The ball’s initial velocity was so great that it produced a sharp, piercing sound as it tore through the air. By the time it reached the apex of its trajectory, it had already flown farther than the point where the others’ balls had landed.

It sailed directly over the pond that tested one’s control over distance, flying toward the emerald-green fairway!

Everyone watched without blinking. The ball’s trajectory was astonishingly exaggerated.

The hole appeared to be roughly four hundred yards away, already beyond the range of Li Lekang’s spellcasting. All he could do was watch along with everyone else, hoping that he had judged the force correctly.

If he had truly struck with all his strength, he could have sent the ball flying off the course and through the windows of the hotel across the road.

But that would no longer have been golf.

That would have been artillery fire.

In general, professional players drove the ball somewhere between 250 and 280 yards. For amateurs and businessmen, managing 230 or 240 yards was already something worth bragging about.

Once Li Lekang’s ball cleared the pond, everyone realized that it had been struck with tremendous force. It had gone at least 300 yards—perhaps even 350.

Their anticipation rose at once. Even the portly old man was gazing into the distance.

The ball was still flying.

“T ig er, do you think it has a chance?” the eldest princess asked Woods.

As a champion who had long since lost count of his victories, Woods could clearly judge the force behind the shot. He vaguely calculated where it would land.

“At this rate, it may come down in the rough.”

Hearing that the top expert believed the ball would land in the rough rather than on the green, everyone relaxed slightly. If it reached the green from that distance, it would be downright monstrous.

Because of the distance and the slope, the golf ball came down and bounced several times across the grass.

It had indeed missed the green.

The golden-haired, portly old man was just about to say something when he noticed that the ball had not come to a complete stop.

This was not the result of Li Lekang’s magic. It was merely the ball’s remaining momentum, combined with the fact that it had landed on a slope. Together, those factors sent it rolling downward.

Dead straight, it rolled into the green.

“Wow! It looks like it really made it!”

Elena could not see clearly, but the shot left everyone deeply shocked.

“It hasn’t stopped! It’s still heading toward the hole!”

That was even more astonishing.

Li Lekang himself had not expected to be this lucky. The distance was already beyond his control, yet the ball had mischievously begun teasing everyone by rolling along the path toward the hole.