Hong Kong variety show: The mastermind behind the scenes is emerging.

In Milan in 1981, the air was filled with the aroma of espresso and the rich scent of leather.

The sun on the Apennine Peninsula shines like molten gold, relentlessly cascading onto the ancient cobblestone streets. In Doumo Square, flocks of pigeons dance in the shadows of Gothic spires, while stylishly dressed buyers and long-legged models hurry about their business.

A convoy of three black cars slowly glided down the ancient cobblestone street and finally stopped in front of the Four Seasons Hotel near Via Montenapoleone.

The car door opened, and the first person to step out was an Asian man wearing sunglasses with a cold expression.

Nature nourishes life.

He was wearing a black, fitted suit. Although his eyes were covered by sunglasses, his head movements, which scanned his surroundings like radar, and the tense muscles that seemed ready to strike at any moment, made the doormen who wanted to help him with his luggage instinctively take two steps back.

Immediately afterwards, the other Tianyang siblings also quickly got out of the car and dispersed around, forming a defensive perimeter without any blind spots.

"Relax, Ah-Sheng."

Lu Chen got out of the middle car, straightened his collar, and took a breath of the foreign air. "This is Milan, not the jungles of South Vietnam. Don't scare those fashion editors."

Tian Yangsheng nodded slightly. Although he had suppressed his murderous aura, he did not let his guard down.

This top-tier hotel, converted from a 15th-century monastery, is located in the heart of Milan's trendy Quadrilateral neighborhood. Ancient murals, arched porticoes, and a meticulously manicured atrium garden all showcase the taste of the old-money family.

Following behind Lu Chen was Ruan Mei, who was carrying large and small bags and stubbornly refused his help.

Lu Chen turned around, looked at Ruan Mei who was panting behind him, and smiled: "Alright, let Asheng and the others help you carry it. No one says that an assistant has to carry the president's suitcases personally. Later, help me organize those boxes of 'local specialties' I brought, especially those sets of porcelain, make sure they're not broken."

Ruan Mei didn't insist any further and obediently went to sort through the boxes filled with "special products"—actually, beautifully packaged Chinese porcelain and tea, as well as more substantial "goodwill" (US dollar checks) hidden under the tea canisters.

……

As night falls, Milan's nightlife is just beginning.

Lu Chen changed into a dark blue velvet suit, making him look both noble and mysterious. He stood in front of the mirror and activated the system.

In the study of the hotel suite, Lu Chen looked at the list of judges he had obtained through special channels, his fingers lightly tapping the table.

"The MIFA competition has a total of seven judges: three from well-known fashion magazines, two design directors from established luxury brands, one art critic, and finally the chairman of the jury—Antonio Rossi."

Lu Chen knew very well that these international awards, on the surface, were about design and creativity, but behind the scenes, they were all about personal connections and relationships.

The Western concept of "fairness" is often based on the premise that everyone is in the same circle. As a brand from the East, if it doesn't want to be eliminated in the first round by arrogant white judges, it has to resort to some extraordinary means.

Fortunately, this time when he came to Milan, he not only brought money, but also the three free attribute points he had saved up.

"System, add points."

Lu Chen didn't hesitate. In this kind of international social setting, mere intelligence wasn't enough. To win over those arrogant European judges in just a few days, he needed a nuclear weapon called "personal charisma."

"Add two points to [charisma], and one point to [approachability]."

[Command confirmed. Enhancing...]

There was no sense of muscular power, nor the refreshing clarity of the mind. This enhancement felt more like a transformation in one's temperament.

Lu Chen looked at himself in the mirror. His features hadn't changed, but his eyes seemed to have become more profound and captivating, and his every move exuded an inexplicable magnetic field. If he was a sharp sword before, then he was now a warm yet incredibly attractive magnet.

[Charm: Lv5 (Refined Scoundrel)]

[Comment: Your aura has undergone a qualitative leap. You now exude a dangerous yet alluring charm, possessing a fatal attraction for women (especially those yearning for a story).]

【Approachability: Lv5 (Leadership Qualities)】

[Comment: Your smile can instantly lower the guard of strangers, and your words can make enemies see you as a confidant. In social situations, you are a natural listener, and what you say is subconsciously believed.]

"This evaluation..." Lu Chen rubbed his nose, "Why does it sound like an insult?"

However, the effect was immediate.

……

Over the next three days, a mysterious Eastern tycoon appeared in all of Milan's top restaurants, galleries, and private clubs.

Using the information he obtained through his lavish spending, Lu Chen accurately located the judges.

Lu Chen catered to the tastes of the three fashion magazine editors.

"Oh, dear Ms. Maria, your article on 'deconstructionism' is absolutely brilliant. I've come all the way from the East just to express my respect in person." Lu Chen used fluent English, combined with his Lv5 friendliness, to instantly close the distance.

Of course, along with the praise came a year-long GG contract from Golden Harvest Group that would be published in their magazine, as well as an envelope containing a bearer check for $150,000 that had "accidentally" fallen on the table.

Lu Chen demonstrated the professional competence brought by his Lv8 intelligence to the two luxury brand design directors.

He talked to them about fabrics, tailoring, and fashion trends for the next decade. His concept of "Quiet Luxury" amazed the two designers, who were going through a creative block, so much so that they wanted to become sworn brothers with Lu Chen on the spot.

As for the art critic, it was even simpler. Lu Chen bought one of his paintings, which wasn't actually that great, for three times the market price and called it a "buried masterpiece."

In just three days, thanks to her extraordinary charisma and superpowers, all six judges were captivated.

They were either captivated by Lu Chen's personal charm or overwhelmed by his financial incentives, and they all hinted that as long as Jiahe's work wasn't too bad, awards like "Most Commercially Valuable Award" and "Best Fabric Application Award" were basically theirs for the taking.

Finally, only the toughest bone remained.

Jury President, Antonio Rossi.

This is an Italian man in his sixties, with an eccentric temperament, known for his strictness and sharp tongue. He never married, dedicating himself to fashion and regarding art as his life.

In an old-fashioned coffee shop in Milan.

Antonio was holding a glass of espresso, his sharp eyes fixed on Lu Chen sitting across from him.

"Young man, I know what you've been up to these past few days." Antonio's voice was like sandpaper. "You've got Maria, you've got Pierre, and you've even bought off that sharp-tongued Robert. Your methods are brilliant, but I have to tell you—they won't work on me."

Antonio savored the aroma of Ethiopian coffee beans, then looked at Lu Chen with a complex expression: "MIFA is sacred; it's a cradle for discovering truly talented designers, not a playground for capitalists."

The old man's voice wasn't loud, but it was firm and resonant.

"Those commercial awards, like the 'Best Market Potential Award' or the 'Best Fabric Application Award,' are open to other people who have accepted your sponsorship; I can't control who they choose to give them to. But..."

Giovanni stared into Lu Chen's eyes and said, word by word, "The highest honor—the Golden Needle Award—must be awarded to truly moving works. As long as I am the chairman, no one can change that."

The atmosphere in the room froze for a moment.

Standing behind Lu Chen, Tian Yangsheng's eyes turned slightly cold, and his fingers twitched. In his opinion, this kind of ungrateful old man would have been thrown into the river to feed the fish long ago if he were in Nan Yue.

But Lu Chen smiled.

He picked up his coffee cup and toasted the stubborn little old man.

"Mr. Rossi, I salute you."

There was no anger in Lu Chen's eyes, but rather a hint of respect.

"To be honest, if you had agreed to my 'sponsorship,' I would have valued this award less. If even the chairman can be bribed, then this Golden Needle Award has no real worth."

Giovanni was taken aback, seemingly not expecting this reaction from the young, wealthy Easterner.

"The reason I came to you isn't to ask you to give me special treatment." Lu Chen exuded his full Lv5 affability, his tone sincere and confident. "I simply hope that when my work appears on the runway, you can remove your prejudiced glasses against 'commercial brands' and 'fashion deserts,' and examine it with your most impartial eye."

"I don't need favoritism, I just need fairness."

"Because I believe that Garreau's design is worthy of that gold needle."

Giovanni looked at Lu Chen for a long time before a smile finally appeared on his serious face.

"Young man, you are arrogant. But I like your arrogance." The old man stood up, extended his hand, and said, "Then I'll be watching, ambitious man from the East."

"It's a deal!"

……

Having won over the judging panel, Lu Chen returned to the Four Seasons Hotel.

The biggest obstacle has been removed, but a new and more difficult problem has emerged.

Sitting on the sofa in the suite, Lu Chen frowned as he looked at the pile of photos scattered on the coffee table in front of him. They were model profile cards sent by various model agencies in Milan.

"Are these all the models you could find?" Lu Chen asked Cheng Yiyan.

"Boss, we really tried our best." On the other end of the phone, Cheng Yiyan also looked bitter. "We started too late. Now is the peak season for fashion week. The models in Milan who have a little bit of fame were signed by those big brands half a year ago. The rest... are already the tallest among the short."

Lu Chen picked up a few photos, looked at them, and shook his head.

The model in the photo has a hot figure and glamorous makeup, typical of the flamboyant and aggressive beauty of the 80s.

No way. That's too tacky.

They were fine as models for a few other dresses, but not for Garreau's main gown collection, "Dark Forest." It required a cool, noble, and even slightly aloof aura, and these ordinary models simply couldn't carry off the "storytelling" Garreau wanted.

"Am I supposed to go up there myself?" Lu Chen joked, but his mood was heavy.

Without top models, the effect of this dress is reduced by 30%, and in a competition full of experts, 30% means elimination.

He spent millions to enhance his image, so if his debut fails because of the model, it would be utterly ridiculous.

"Boss..."

Tianyang Yong stood in the corner like a ghost, then suddenly spoke, "If we can't find one, how about... we steal one?"

"...Spend less time with Luo Jun in the future," Lu Chen glanced at him speechlessly, "This is Milan, not a fortified city. You think you can just kidnap a model for a fashion show? How did you even come up with that idea?"

Just as the room was filled with gloom and despair.

"Knock knock knock".

There was a gentle knock on the suite door.

"Please come in." Lu Chen assumed it was room service and casually replied.

The door opened.

Ruan Mei walked in.

But this time, instead of wearing her usual smart work clothes, she stood at the door with a mysterious yet somewhat excited expression on her face.

"Chairman Lu... um..."

"What's wrong, Mei? Did you not have fun today?"

Although Lu Chen was feeling down, he didn't want his assistant to worry, so he quickly composed himself, put on a gentle smile, and pointed to the coffee on the table. "Are you out of money? Don't worry, I said I'd reimburse you, I'll even reimburse you for the coins you threw into the wishing well."

These past two days he'd been busy navigating the world of fame and fortune in Milan, either drinking with judges or dealing with the media, leaving him no time to spare. And since Ruan Mei didn't understand Italian, taking her along would only be a hassle. So he simply gave her a break, letting Tian Yang'en accompany her to Milan Cathedral to feed the pigeons and stroll along the luxury shopping street—though, given Ruan Mei's personality, he figured she'd probably just look at the price tags in the shop windows, then leave satisfied with a gasp of amazement.

"No...it's not about the money."

Ruan Mei stood at the door, her hands behind her back, nervously twisting her fingers.

Although Lu Chen didn't tell her anything, her month-long experience as his assistant had helped her grow a lot, and she keenly sensed the undisguised fatigue behind Lu Chen's smile.

She knew that although the boss seemed to be living a glamorous life on the surface these past few days, he was secretly worrying about those model photos in the hotel.

In the past, she could only watch helplessly, but today...

"Chairman Lu, I know you're worried about the final model." Ruan Mei seemed to have mustered her courage and spoke quickly, "This afternoon, when Sister En and I were feeding the pigeons in Milan Cathedral Square, we encountered a little... accident."

"An accident?" Tian Yangsheng, who was standing in the corner, suddenly raised his head, his eyes sharp as knives.

"Oh, it wasn't dangerous!" Ruan Mei quickly waved her hand. "We saw a girl being harassed by some thugs by the fountain, and Sister En... you know how skilled she is, she chased those guys away in no time."

"and then?"

"And that's how we met!" Ruan Mei's eyes lit up. "That girl was Italian, but she could speak Cantonese, and... and she was so beautiful! When she stood there without saying a word, it felt like... like the person from your design sketch had stepped right out of the box!"

As Ruan Mei spoke, she gestured animatedly, "She's aloof and doesn't pay attention to people, but she looks very elegant! I was thinking, since you can't find a suitable model, why don't you... why don't you take a look at her?"

"Oh?" Lu Chen didn't have high hopes. "What a coincidence?"

In Milan, a city teeming with fashionistas, any random passerby on the street might be better looking than those third-rate models. But that's only "a little better," still a far cry from his ideal candidate.

"Mr. Lu, please just take a look!" Seeing that Lu Chen didn't believe her, Ruan Mei stamped her foot in frustration. "Anyway... anyway, we're already here, and she's right outside the door! If you don't like it, I'll just let her leave. It won't cost me anything, right?"

Seeing Ruan Mei's eagerness to share his burdens, Lu Chen's frustration dissipated considerably.

Even if it's just to avoid upsetting her, even if it's just to make her happy, I have to take that look.

"Okay." Lu Chen shook his head helplessly. "Then let her in. But let me make it clear first, I can't guarantee it will work."

"Yay!" Ruan Mei cheered, turning around and waving towards the door. "Come in, come in! The boss agreed to see you!"

Outside the door, a tall, slender figure hesitated for a moment before slowly stepping inside.

When the figure was fully exposed to the bright crystal chandelier of the suite, Lu Chen's previously nonchalant gaze instantly froze.

She was a Western woman.

A Western woman whose beauty is breathtaking.

She wore a simple white T-shirt, layered under a slightly oversized denim jacket, and skinny jeans. There were no fancy accessories or elaborate makeup; her long, slightly wavy, dark brown hair was casually draped over her shoulders, a little messy, yet exuding a lazy and wild charm, as if she had just woken up.

Her features were deep and sculpted, like a goddess straight out of a Renaissance painting. Her eyes, as blue as the Mediterranean Sea, did not hold the timidity or unease one might have in an unfamiliar environment; instead, they carried a hint of cunning and wariness.

"Hello, you can call me Sylvia."