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

"Is it still about the Agnelli family?"

Sofia hesitated for a moment, pursed her red lips, and nodded.

Agnelli.

This name carries as much weight in Italy as the Vatican Dome, the Tiber River, and the Sicilian Mafia.

It is the heart of Italian industry, the lifeblood of the city of Turin, and the dividing line that marked the country's transformation from an agricultural to an industrial nation.

Without Fiat, Italy's automotive industry would never have achieved its current glory; and without the Agnelli family, Fiat would never have reached its current pinnacle.

In 1899, Emperor Guangxu was still reviewing imperial edicts in the Forbidden City; Queen Victoria had just completed her sixty-third year on the throne; and Italy had been unified for less than thirty years.

That year, a retired cavalry officer named Giovanni Agnelli, together with several investors, founded the Italian automobile manufacturing plant Fabbrica Italiana Automobili Torino in Turin.

Subsequently, through his iron-fisted management and the introduction of standardized assembly line production, he quickly transformed Fiat into a representative enterprise of Italian industry.

This lengthy full name was later compressed into four letters: FIAT.

Later, with the outbreak of World War I, Agnelli's military background and Fiat's complete production line quickly gained favor with the military. Orders poured into the Turin factory from the Ministry of Defense. Agnelli seized the opportunity and began to supply the empire with armored vehicles, aircraft engines, machine guns, and military trucks day and night.

By the end of the war, Fiat had long since transcended the realm of simple automobile manufacturing, completely holding Italy's national economic lifeline hostage. And Agnelli himself had risen from an ordinary retired cavalry officer to become an unparalleled super-industrial tycoon.

However, the war was over, but the real storm of business and political intrigue surrounding Fiat was just beginning.

In the 1920s, the Red Storm swept across Europe, and industrial cities in northern Italy became strongholds of left-wing labor unions. Fiat's factories were occupied by workers for two whole years.

In order to protect his business empire, Agnelli the Elder made a deal with the rising Mussolini fascist regime—the fascist government gave him control over the labor force and high protective tariffs on imported cars, and he provided the fascist government with arms orders and economic backing.

This deal was morally questionable, but commercially extremely effective. The fascist government's high barriers completely cut off any possibility of foreign car brands entering the market, allowing Fiat to dominate the Italian domestic market without any rivals.

It was also during this period that Fiat launched its groundbreaking model – the 500 Topolino (Mickey Mouse).

This car was not only compact and exquisite, but it could even turn around nimbly in the narrow, slippery cobblestone alleys of Rome. Its price was so low that a dockworker in Genoa could afford it with three years' worth of savings. This remarkable car truly brought the modern automotive industry into the homes of ordinary Italians.

However, making a deal with the devil always comes at a price. With the full-scale outbreak of World War II, Fiat suffered another devastating blow—as a core supply station for Axis armaments, the massive factory in Turin was repeatedly reduced to ruins under intense Allied bombing.

By 1945, with the defeat of the Hans Republic and the liberation of Italy, the Fiat family faced several waves of political purges due to their historical ties to the fascist regime. Elder Agnelli also passed away shortly after the purges began, leaving behind only a name shrouded in the shadow of fascism and the ruins of a battered and crumbling empire.

To make matters worse, the second-generation heir of the family, Edoardo, had already died in a seaplane accident in 1935. There was only one candidate left to succeed him—the grandson of old Agnelli, Edoardo's only son, a twenty-four-year-old young man who had just returned from the front lines.

Gianni Agnelli.

In order to protect the young heir and to avoid the intense political turmoil and left-wing labor union wave in the early post-war period, the family decided to temporarily let professional manager Vittorio Valletta take charge, while Gianni accumulated resources in the post-war European social scene and international diplomatic circles.

In 1966, feeling the time was right, Gianni Agnelli, who had accumulated experience and experience, officially took over as chairman of Fiat, ushering in the most glorious and turbulent "Justice Department era" in the history of the Agnelli family.

At that time, Italy was at the end of its "economic miracle," and the benefits brought by post-war reconstruction were beginning to fade, leading to a sharp intensification of social contradictions.

Upon taking office, Gianni Agnelli demonstrated political foresight and ruthless decisiveness that went beyond that of a mere entrepreneur. In 1966, he withstood immense political pressure from the Western bloc and signed a huge contract with the Soviet government to build the Togliatti automobile plant on the banks of the Volga River, exporting Fiat's technology and management to the other side of the Iron Curtain.

This move shocked both the East and West during the Cold War. Domestically, Gianni Agnelli withstood assassination threats from the local labor movement and the left-wing terrorist organization "Red Brigades," fortifying his defenses through extremely aggressive capital expansion and industrial acquisitions.

The entire Western camp was stunned. The American ambassador slammed his fist on the table in Rome, NATO Allied Command issued a strongly worded note, and some members of Congress in Washington even proposed a review of economic aid to Italy... But Gianni Agnelli withstood all the pressure.

He didn't care about the Cold War; what he cared about was whether Fiat cars could be sold east of the Ural Mountains.

After the contract was signed, Fiat seized the entire entry-level car market in the socialist bloc—from Moscow to Havana, from Warsaw to Hanoi, the Lada cars running everywhere were essentially Fiat 124s at heart.

Domestically, Gianni Agnelli withstood assassination threats from the local labor movement and the left-wing terrorist organization "Red Brigades," fortifying his defenses through extremely aggressive capital expansion and industrial acquisitions.

In 1969, Fiat took advantage of Ferrari's financial crisis to acquire 50% of its shares and also brought the high-end brand Lancia under its control.

With this, Fiat has built a complete product matrix ranging from the $500 Mickey Mouse national car to the $500,000 limited edition Ferrari supercar.

Italians even joke that you were born in a Fiat and you will die in a Fiat—the hearses at funeral homes are converted from Fiat Ducato chassis.

By the end of 1986, the Agnelli family controlled nearly 70% of Italy's automobile production, employed hundreds of thousands of workers, and spanned the industrial, financial, news media, and sports sectors (Juventus Football Club), making them another behemoth no less than the Lubers family.

Now, these two behemoths have clashed because they both have their eyes on the same piece of meat—Alfa Romeo.

The matter originated in September when Alfa Romeo, a state-owned Italian automaker, finally couldn't hold on any longer after years of huge losses and put the company up for sale.

After the news was released, three companies showed great interest: the Lubbers family, the Fiat family, and Ford Motor Company.

Ford has long coveted Alfa Romeo. For years, Ford has wanted to compete with BMW's 3 Series and Mercedes-Benz's C-Class by launching a sporty sedan aimed at the European middle class. However, they lacked a brand identity. In the eyes of European consumers, Ford is a manufacturer of pickup trucks and family vans, and has nothing to do with the word "sporty".

Coincidentally, Alfa Romeo was the perfect springboard: racing pedigree, European cultural identity, complete engine technology, and a small but passionate global fanbase. Ford offered an extremely generous price, practically throwing its checkbook on the negotiating table, which was undeniably tempting to the Italian government.

Faced with the aggressive outsiders, the Lubbers and Fiat families tacitly chose to join forces first.

The Lupus family used its decades-long network of connections in Roman politics, while the Fiat family exerted pressure on parliament through its directly or indirectly controlled financial capital and media apparatus.

The move was very successful. By mid-October, the Italian Ministry of Industry officially rejected Ford's bid, citing the need to "protect the nation's industrial heritage and core technological autonomy." Ford didn't even get close to the negotiating table before being knocked out of Italy by a series of political blows.

However, once the foreign beast was driven away, the alliance crumbled instantly.

The two companies then engaged in a two-month-long tug-of-war, with fierce political and business maneuvering, prices soaring, and additional terms piling up—a commitment to retain the factory, job security for workers, independent brand operation rights, and a minimum annual investment in the racing division's R&D...

Behind every clause lies a relentless battle of wits and strategies waged day and night by dozens of financial analysts and legal lawyers from both sides.

Although the Lubbers family offered more favorable terms, unfortunately, the balance was tilting in Fiat's favor.

Sofia put the last sheet of paper back into the folder, tapping her finger on the cover: "There's no way around it; the Fiat family is already in the automotive industry, which gives them an advantage over us. Gianni assured the Prime Minister that once Alfa Romeo is acquired, this national brand can be revived within a year. That really impressed the Prime Minister—after all, Alfa Romeo is the face of Italy, and the Prime Minister doesn't want that face to be held in the hands of a group of people who only understand finance and not cars."

Lu Chen listened quietly, then slowed down his fingers that were on the back of Paloma's head and gently combed her hair downwards.

Paloma had been listening the whole time, and when she heard this, she couldn't help but lift her head from Lu Chen's chest, her eyes full of worry. But when she met Lu Chen's calm gaze, she didn't say anything, just pursed her lips, and buried her face back into the blankets.

Another piece of pine wood broke off in the fireplace, collapsing from the iron frame and crashing into the ashes below, sending up a few tiny sparks that flashed in the air before going out.

Lu Chen looked at the ashes that had returned to silence and smiled slightly:

"I have a solution."