National Tide 1980.

Ning Weimin's precise strike caused a serious crisis of confidence for Ellen Ford and made her remember the lesson that "Chinese people are not to be trifled with."

The collective termination of contracts by European fashion giants such as LV, Pierre Cardin, and L'Oréal not only caused a precipitous drop in Ford Models' revenue, but also severely damaged Ellen Ford's reputation in the international fashion world.

Those partners who had previously relied on her avoided her like the plague, and many of her promising models also chose to terminate their contracts and leave. The once glamorous "godmother of the modeling industry" became a laughing stock in the industry overnight.

But she never understood why she ended up like this, simply because she adhered to so-called "international standards".

What she didn't know was that there was no shortage of ruthless characters among the "Chinese" in this world who stood firm on their principles and planned ahead. Ning Weimin's counterattack was just the tip of the iceberg for her.

To be honest, she should be glad that she offended Ning Weimin, because he was, after all, a child who grew up in mainland China and received socialist education.

Even when she's causing trouble, she's first and foremost reasonable, and secondly, she knows when to stop; she doesn't truly try to destroy her.

If she were in the United States, some of the Chinese there would be truly ruthless people who also believe in the law of the jungle.

They not only have the means, but also lack compassion, and understand the true meaning of the law of the jungle.

Even more remarkably, some possess wealth that is unmatched by ordinary people.

If she offends someone like that, it won't just be a matter of learning a lesson; she'll surely be condemned to eternal damnation, with no chance to repent.

Take Louis Con, for example, who lives in the suburbs of Houston.

As an old-fashioned person with Chinese blood flowing through his veins, he lives alone in a foreign land and in seclusion.

However, his background as a member of a legendary family during the Republic of China era, as well as the surname "Kong," inherently make him a formidable figure.

Not to mention anyone who dares to anger him, even if you don't provoke him, he will eat people from time to time.

This is indeed true.

For example, the designer who designed his refuge, Taubsen, was a longtime friend of his, but due to a moment of carelessness, he failed to control his assistant and leaked some photos to American media reporters.

A few months later, he was found dead in his villa.

Although the doctor's test results indicated that the sudden death was caused by drinking alcohol after taking medication, the deceased, now in heaven, was well aware that it was murder.

He originally thought that if he begged Kong's ex-wife, the big star Deborah Paget, to speak up for him, he could gain her forgiveness and save his life.

As it turned out, he had underestimated Louis Conn's kindness.

Deborah Paget's favor only earned him three months of survival. When he lowered his guard and thought that Louis Conn had really let him go, he was executed by the men sent by the other side.

However, even such a ferocious tiger has people it won't harm.

If Louis Conn could give 60 percent of his love to his ex-wife Deborah Paget, then he could give 90 percent to his son, Connaught.

After all, as the saying goes, even a tiger won't eat its cubs.

In particular, this mixed-race child is not only his only heir, but also the only heir of their old Kong family.

For the Chinese people, continuing the family line is of utmost importance.

If there's anything he's dissatisfied with about this child, it's probably that the education and living environment he received were too Americanized.

Kong Deqi was not a real spoiled brat; he was at least much better than those white kids.

He was intelligent and hardworking in his studies, consistently ranking at the top of his class from elementary school to graduating from Stanford University's Graduate School of Business.

Unfortunately, the United States lacked excellent Chinese teachers, and he did not like Eastern culture, so Louis Kong could not provide him with a pure Eastern education.

This resulted in Kong Deqi being able to recite every line of dialogue from "Gone with the Wind" under his mother's influence.

He speaks fluent Latin and Spanish, and can even sing Italian opera.

But he can only recite a few simple ancient poems, and his Chinese is not even fluent.

This is a regret that will never be resolved for Louis Cong.

Therefore, whenever Louis Cong reflects on his life experiences, he inevitably feels somewhat melancholic.

Because he never imagined that after crossing the ocean to come here, he would make a fortune with the help of the Kong family's connections, and marry a world-famous Hollywood star. He could say he lived a happy and carefree life, but in the end, he also left a crack in his blood that could never be stitched up again.

This is probably fate's irony towards him; even the Jade Emperor couldn't do anything about it.

However, to be fair, Kong Deqi was, after all, Louis Kong's biological son. Although he was of mixed race and only half Chinese, he was still relatively conservative in his family values ​​and closer to the traditional Chinese values.

As a son, he may not have been very close to his father due to his upbringing, but he always held his father in high esteem, regarding him as a patriarch in Eastern tradition.

Moreover, since Louis Kong moved into the castle in Houston after his divorce, Kong Deqi has lived with his mother all these years, but he has never broken off his kinship with his father.

Every now and then, he would take time to visit his father at the castle, and during the summer vacation, he would make a special trip to spend one or two weeks with his father.

What's even more remarkable is that Kong Deqi never supported his mother's remarriage. This obsession with family integrity created a natural understanding between father and son.

Even after Kong Deqi graduated from university, they maintained this connection, and regular visits became an unwritten agreement between father and son.

On June 12, 1991, Kon Deqi drove his silver-gray Jaguar convertible, leaving the bustling city of Houston as scheduled, heading towards the old castle surrounded by high walls and dense forests in the suburbs, to visit his father, Louis Kon, once again.

…………

The car passed through an electric iron gate hidden behind an ancient tree, instantly shutting out the surrounding noise, leaving only the rustling sound of wheels rolling over the gravel road.

After driving along the winding road for a while, the artificial lake in the distance and the seemingly ancient pagoda on the lakeside come into view.

Kong Deqi was very familiar with it; the base of that pagoda was one of the entrances to his father's underground castle.

He slowed down and came to a steady stop in the lakeside parking lot. As soon as he opened the car door, two tall security guards in black suits quickly stepped forward.

They looked at him with serious expressions and sharp eyes, and began the routine visitor inspection process.

"Good afternoon, young sir. Please show your identification and cooperate with us to complete the inspection."

One of the security personnel spoke first, his tone respectful, yet he still had to follow the rules.

"Just call me by my name—Gregory."

Kong Deqi was already used to this kind of meticulousness. Even though he, like his mother, thought deep down that it was his father's rather excessive quirk, he calmly took out his driver's license from his briefcase and handed it over. The English name "Gregory Kung" on the license was conspicuous and glaring.

This was his title since childhood, and the only recognized identity in this castle. It was as if only in this way could the half of his Chinese bloodline be temporarily diluted.

Security personnel carefully verified the passport information against him and then used a handheld electronic detector to scan his entire body. Even his briefcase was opened and inspected piece by piece. Only after confirming that there were no dangerous items were his documents returned to him.

"Inspection complete, Gregory. Please follow me."

As he followed the security personnel toward the pagoda, Kong Deqi's gaze involuntarily swept over the vast estate before him. On the more than 1500 acres of land, the lawns were meticulously manicured, and the main building in the distance, which appeared to be only four stories high, was actually as tall as a six-story building. All the windows were fitted with thick bulletproof glass, which gleamed with a cold, hard luster in the sunlight.

He knew in his heart that all possible risks had been taken into account when the castle was first built.

His father built this place into an impregnable fortress, both for his seclusion and to protect the enormous wealth he had accumulated.

Honestly, every time he came here, he had a strange illusion.

It felt as if I had accompanied my mother to a Hollywood film studio, about to witness the filming of a post-apocalyptic survival sci-fi movie.

Those cold protective measures and strict security were completely contrary to the free and open normal family life in America that he was familiar with.

Upon entering the pagoda, the light suddenly dimmed.

The security personnel gently pressed a hidden button on the wall, and a heavy steel door slowly slid open to one side, revealing a staircase leading to the underground.

The wall lights on both sides of the stairs turned on automatically, their dim yellow light illuminating the downward-extending passage. A faint smell of metal mixed with disinfectant filled the air—a unique odor of underground spaces.

"The underground castle is two levels deep, with a total area of ​​3.8 square feet. It is equipped with three independent power generation units, so it can still operate normally inside even if the outside water and power are cut off."

As the security personnel led the way, they routinely explained, "You know, this is where we soldiers work. That's where you and Mr. Kong will be staying. As usual, over a dozen deluxe double bedrooms have been prepared for you; you can choose whichever you prefer. Toilets, washrooms, an emergency room, and a recreation room are also all provided. If you have any other requests, feel free to let us know."

Kong Deqi listened silently, his steps never faltering.

He already knew this information by heart, but every time he entered this place, he was still moved by the luxury and eeriness of this underground castle.

The luxurious features are comparable to those of a five-star hotel.

It has restaurants, bars, nightclubs, swimming pools that can accommodate thousands of people, and even a private garden and helipad on the roof.

What's strange are the details that were deliberately ignored and downplayed.

For example, what the security personnel never mentioned was that their quarters actually had 500 to 700 beds, enough to accommodate an entire army.

In addition, there are four detention cells hidden deep within the castle.

He couldn't help but recall the rumors that his father enjoyed interrogating prisoners and had disposed of many people without his consent.

Although the outside world was unaware, he knew in his heart that his father's ruthless rules were hidden within this seemingly peaceful castle.

Thinking of this, a barely perceptible sense of awe swept through my heart.

After descending the stairs, there's another electric door that requires a password to open.

Behind the door was a spacious corridor with several antique calligraphy and paintings hanging on the walls.

His brushstrokes are imbued with Eastern charm, creating a stark contrast with the cold, modern metal surroundings, as if his father were desperately clinging to the last vestiges of his homeland.

The reception room at the end of the corridor is fully furnished with leather sofas and mahogany coffee tables, and the TV on the wall is playing financial news, creating a warm and homey atmosphere.

“Gregory, please wait here for a moment, I’ll go inform the sir.” The security guard said and then turned to leave.

Kong Deqi sat down on the sofa, his gaze sweeping over the furnishings in the room.

Everything here exudes understated luxury, just like his father.

He thought of his upbringing, of the love his mother, Deborah Paget, had given him, and of the days he regularly came here to spend time with his father.

But even now, he still doesn't know what his father was afraid of.
Why did he lock himself up here?

There was absolutely no sign of the end of the world.

Moreover, now that China and the United States have established diplomatic relations, even the Soviet Union has begun to be friendly towards the United States and is envious of the American people's kitchens filled with all kinds of delicious food.

In this peaceful era, no one wants to fight anymore, and a nuclear war is even less likely to happen.

What is there to fear about someone as powerful and wealthy as my father?
In the United States, even if the National Guard were deployed, they probably wouldn't be able to break into this fortress made of reinforced concrete.

Even if my father wanted to be president, he would probably have a fighting chance.

Just as he was filled with absurd thoughts and his mind was wandering, a slow but steady set of footsteps came from the corridor.

Kong Deqi immediately stood up and looked in the direction of the sound.

An elderly man with gray hair, a slightly hunched posture, a slightly plump face, and glasses appeared at the door, supported by the housekeeper, and slowly walked towards him.

The old man, dressed in a black Tang suit, had a face full of wrinkles, but his eyes were still as sharp as an eagle's; he was none other than his father, Louis Con.

"Father."

Kong Deqi called out respectfully, his tone carrying a hint of barely perceptible restraint.

"I've come to see you. You look well; how have you been lately?"

He tried his best to speak Chinese more fluently, but his accent was still stiff, unable to hide the barrier caused by the unfamiliar environment.

His environment in the United States prevented him from truly connecting with Eastern culture.

He could also feel that this cultural gap was like an invisible wall between him and his father.

Louis Conn stopped and scrutinized his son for a moment before slowly nodding, his voice hoarse yet carrying an undeniable authority.

"Son, you're here. Thank you, please have a seat."

A few simple words set the stage for another visit between father and son.

This impregnable underground castle witnessed Louis Cong's wealth and power, and silently bore witness to the complex emotions between this special father and son—a mixture of awe, estrangement, and longing. (End of Chapter)