novellhall Chapter 64: Neither of them had good intentions
Chapter 64: Neither of them had good intentions
In a Manhattan mansion.
When Anna led Wei Yi and the others in.
In the transition area between the foyer and the restaurant, guests chatted in twos and threes, sipping champagne.
The crystal chandelier gilded everyone's dress.
In the corner, a French man stared at Wei Yi for a long time.
He was in his early forties, with a meticulously groomed goatee, black-rimmed glasses, and a handmade but not new suit.
It's the kind of understated style that's deliberately not understated.
His name is Pierre, a "brand observer" at LV headquarters.
Chen Chen was walking past him with a wine glass in her hand when he was stopped.
"Chen." The man with the goatee nodded slightly in Wei Yi's direction. "Could you introduce me?"
Chen Chen's expression froze for half a second.
Others may not know Pierre's background, but he does.
This person's responsibilities have never been limited to brand observation.
"Can we do it later?"
Chen Chen dared not be perfunctory, but he really couldn't get close to them right now.
Anna was personally leading Wei Yi through the crowd, like a queen introducing her newly appointed knight to her courtiers.
It's like a vendor selling a product to her potential customers.
"No rush," Pierre smiled, twirling the untouched glass of champagne in his hand. "I'm waiting for more than just tonight."
As soon as he finished speaking, a red light flashed in Wei Yi's eyes.
[Shadow Hunter detected observing the host. His interest lies in how to make an Eastern genius capable of creating "high-purity substitute illusions" work for him. Ideally, the host would willingly become infected. If not, he wouldn't mind helping.]
Threat assessment: Moderate. He has no direct authority, but he knows everyone who does.
Wei Yi glanced at the Frenchman in the corner.
Their eyes met for a fleeting moment in the air.
Pierre raised his champagne glass, held it aloft, and smiled politely.
Wei Yi turned back and continued talking to Anna. His expression remained unchanged.
But he cursed inwardly.
I haven't even had a bite of hot pot during this trip to New York.
But someone has already targeted him as prey.
The banquet officially began.
Tonight's banquet is not the kind of buffet that has become increasingly popular in Europe and America over the past decade or so.
Instead, it's a more traditional and retro banquet.
The long table was covered with a linen tablecloth, and the silver candlesticks were polished until they reflected light.
The dishes were served one after another, from salad to soup to main course, a very lavish spread.
Chow Yun-fat sat upright, wearing a navy blue suit with a dark pattern and two jade buttons on his cuffs.
He cut the lamb chops on the plate slowly and deliberately, the knife and fork making almost no sound on the porcelain plate.
Wang Baoqiang sat in a corner.
He stared at the row of knives and forks in front of him for a long time, and finally gritted his teeth and used the fork to pick up the whole piece of lamb chop and gnaw on it.
Huang Xiaoming saw this from the side, opened his mouth, and then closed it again.
Forget it.
Gong Li was speaking quietly to Wei Yi; she was to Wei Yi's right.
Fan Binbin sat to Wei Yi's left, her red lips pressed against the rim of her wine glass, her gaze sweeping over the faces of the people on both sides of the long table.
She was counting.
When she counted to the eighth familiar face, she nudged Wei Yi under the table with her foot—one was the editor-in-chief of Harper's Bazaar, and the other was the buying director of Bergdorf Goodman, both of whom could sit in the front row at Milan Fashion Week.
Across from her, Karen Rosen was cutting the sea bass on her plate.
She is the Vice President of Production at Paramount, in her early fifties, with short, dark brown hair.
From salads to soups to main courses, she kept observing Wei Yi.
It's not the kind of sizing up of a person, but the way a hunter estimates the weight of his prey.
She put down her knife and fork halfway through the main course.
"Mr. Wei Yi, on behalf of Paramount, I would like to extend a cooperation invitation to you."
Fan Binbin's feet stopped under the table.
"Paramount has an Eastern fantasy film coming out next year. It has a budget of $70 million. They need a cinematographer who understands Eastern aesthetics. If you're interested, we can start with a photography collaboration. Compensation and benefits are negotiable."
Fan Binbin frantically calculated the exchange rate in his mind, and almost choked on his own saliva halfway through.
Huang Xiaoming paused for a moment as he cut the lamb chop.
The patient continued to use knives and forks despite having mouth ulcers, but the frequency of chewing had noticeably slowed down.
All eyes were on Wei Yi.
Wei Yi didn't look up. He poked a piece of potato with his fork, chewed it, swallowed it, picked up his wine glass, took a sip, and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
He only spoke after the entire process was completed.
"not enough."
Karen's smile froze for a moment. "What did you say?"
"Seventy million isn't enough." Wei Yi put his fork on the plate, picked up the decorative blue and white porcelain plate in the center of the table, held it by the bottom with both hands and turned it over to reveal the inscription on the base.
"See this blue? It's not mixed on a palette. It's cobalt." He tapped the glaze on the bottom of the plate with his finger. "It's fired at 1300 degrees Celsius. It seeps out from under the glaze. How much seeps in, how deep or light it is, all depends on the firing temperature. If it's even one degree off, it won't be this blue."
He put the plate back in its place, and the porcelain fell onto the tablecloth with a very soft thud.
"You don't understand where this blue comes from. What you're shooting isn't fantasy; it's a Halloween costume party. I wouldn't shoot it even if you paid me."
There was a full five seconds of silence on both sides of the long table.
Fan Binbin glanced at the surrounding guests out of the corner of her eye.
Some people were exchanging glances, some were holding their wine glasses but forgot to drink, and Anna leaned back in her chair with a very faint smile on her lips.
When Karen spoke again, her tone was completely different. "A movie with a budget of $120 million. Are you interested?"
Wei Yi picked up his knife and fork and continued cutting the lamb chops. "Unless you let me be the director, I'm not interested in a hundred billion dollars."
[The Golden Countess's original plan—to hire an obedient Eastern "potion" craftsman for 70 million gold coins—has been explicitly rejected by the host.]
[This Golden Countess harbors no ill will towards the host, at most showing some disdain. However, her superior, a member of the Council of Elders at the top of Paramount's Golden Castle, has designs on the host. Every question Karen asked tonight wasn't her own. She was merely a messenger. The true author of those words is currently sitting in his palace awaiting news.]
Wei Yi remained calm and took a sip of his wine.
His fabricated nonsense was triggered by the system's new malicious detection pop-up.
Hold.
First, someone from LV wanted to recruit him to become "Breaking Bad".
Now, some people at Paramount want him to be "Old White".
One is the fashion industry, and the other is Hollywood.
So this trip to New York turned into venturing into a den of wolves.
He regretted coming.
Without the system's malicious detection, Wei Yi felt he was likely in serious trouble.
On the other side.
Karen didn't say anything more.
She quietly finished cutting the remaining sea bass, placed the knife and fork together on one side of the plate, and dabbed her mouth with a napkin.
When she looked up again, her face was once again filled with the smile appropriate for social occasions.
"It's alright. Compared to an immature collaboration, we at Paramount value Mr. Wei's friendship more. Perhaps when we meet again next week, Mr. Wei will change his mind?"
"We'll talk about that later."
After that, until the dessert was cleared from the plate, no one asked Wei Yi for cooperation again.
But everyone's eyes were drawn to him.
Let's see just how bold this young man is who gave Paramount's vice president a run for his money.
The untouched chocolate mousse on the plate in front of him hadn't been touched since it was served.
Wei Yi merely glanced at the plate, then looked up and nodded to Anna.
"Thank you for your hospitality."
As the dessert cart pushed past the table, Baoqiang whispered to Huang Xiaoming, "Brother Xiaoming, could we have another slice of that black cake?"
Huang Xiaoming did not answer.
Wang Baoqiang glanced at Huang Xiaoming's untouched cake and brought over his plate as well.