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

On a rainy day in early February, the ownership of Alfa Romeo was finally settled.

The Italian Ministry of Industry officially announced in the press conference hall of the Chigi Palace that, after a comprehensive evaluation, the government has decided to sell the Alfa Romeo brand and all its assets to the High Table Group.

The official statement was, as always, grand and dignified: "The High Table Group has demonstrated exceptional strategic vision and strong financial strength in industry consolidation, brand operation, and global market expansion. The government believes that Alfa Romeo, under the leadership of the Lubbers family, will usher in a new era of glory."

The statement made no mention of Fiat, but everyone knows why Fiat was eliminated.

When the news reached Turin, Gianni Agnelli was still recovering in the hospital. The curtains of his private ward were drawn tightly, and two Agnelli family bodyguards stood outside the door. Apart from immediate family members and core board members, all visits were refused—of course, even Edoardo Jr. was not allowed to come.

The attending physician publicly stated that it was "a temporary fainting due to overwork, requiring hospitalization for observation," but privately told Jani's family more bluntly—you'd better not let him touch anything related to work, for at least a month.

As for Fiat's stock price, it fell another four points that afternoon after the press conference. The good news is that this drop was relatively mild compared to the days when the scandal was at its worst.

……

After the signing ceremony, Sofia returned to Lubers Castle with a cheerful stride.

When she pushed open the heavy oak door of the study on the east side of the castle, Lu Chen was sitting in a high-backed leather chair by the window, flipping through an Italian car magazine.

The afternoon sun shone through the arched window, casting a warm glow on the shoulders of his dark gray cashmere sweater.

Before he could put the magazine down, Sophia had already stepped across the carpet, placed her hands on the armrests of the leather chair, and thrown herself into his arms.

The chill from the camel hair coat hadn't dissipated yet, and mixed with the scent of Dior jasmine perfume behind her ears, it all rushed into Lu Chen's chest.

"I got it." She tilted her head back, a smile playing on her lips, her joy palpable and impossible to hide.

Lu Chen smiled and patted her back, as if comforting a large feline that had jumped into his arms: "Thank you for your hard work."

"It's not hard," she said listlessly, leaning against his chest. "Jani is in the hospital."

"I've heard about it."

"You're not surprised at all."

"How should I put it? It was unexpected, but also understandable..." Lu Chen said calmly. "A 65-year-old man, who went through public opinion purges, political attacks, and the removal of his own son within a month, and finally had his proud car business slapped in the face by the government in public—anyone would be crippled in that situation."

Lu Chen's tone was neither sarcastic nor sympathetic; it was as if he were simply stating an ending he had already foreseen.

Sofia lifted her head from his embrace and glanced at him, then buried her face back in his chest and whispered something in Italian—her voice was so soft that it was barely audible amidst the crackling of the burning wood in the fireplace.

"However, Alfa Romeo alone is not enough for the High Table Group to enter the automotive industry." Lu Chen helped her up from his arms, looked at her slightly puzzled expression, picked up a bound document from the low table next to the chair, and placed it in her hand.

"To truly gain brand recognition, it's not enough to be a long-established sports brand; you also need the endorsement of a top-tier supercar."

Sofia opened the file.

The first page is a photograph of a wedge-shaped supercar parked in front of a country villa in northern Italy, its body lines as sharp as an unsharpened dagger.

Below the photo is a line of bold Italian text: LAMBORGHINI.

Lamborghini.

This name is legendary in the history of the Italian and even global automobile industry.

It's not a century-old brand, not a royal vehicle, and certainly not a representative of national brands. It was a savage who emerged from a tractor factory, barging into the world of supercars in the most ruthless way, and then burning itself to ashes in just over a decade—a story of extreme glory and utter devastation.

This situation may also be related to the founder, Ferruccio Lamborghini.

Born into an ordinary farming family in Emilia-Romagna, he served as a mechanic in the Italian Air Force during World War II. After the war, he started his business by recycling parts from Allied abandoned military vehicles, eventually founding the Lamborghini tractor factory and becoming one of Italy's most successful agricultural machinery manufacturers.

By the late 1950s, Ferruccio's tractor brand had become one of the top three in the country, and he had made enough money. So, in order to pursue his dream as a boy, he bought himself a Ferrari.

After receiving the car, he discovered that the clutch in his Ferrari was always slipping. So he took the Ferrari apart himself and found that the clutch parts used in the Ferrari were the same product from the same supplier as the ones used in his tractor—the only difference was that the Ferrari was ten times more expensive.

He couldn't swallow this insult, so he drove directly to Maranello to confront Enzo Ferrari himself.

Faced with Ferruccio's questioning, Enzo uttered one of the most famous lines in automotive history: "The clutch is fine, the problem is you can't drive a Ferrari at all; you're only fit to drive your tractor!"

Ferruccio was furious at his arrogance. That same day, he returned to his farm in Sant'Agata, gathered his most capable engineers together, and said one sentence:

From now on, we'll build supercars.

In 1963, Lamborghini was officially established. Ferruccio poured all the money he had earned from the tractor factory into building a brand new, modern factory in Sant'Agata, on the outskirts of Bologna.

In 1966, Lamborghini launched the Miura—the world's first mid-engine, rear-wheel-drive V12 supercar.

Before this, all supercars had front-engine layouts; after this, the whole world imitated its design.

The name Miura comes from a Spanish ranch famous for breeding fierce fighting bulls. Since then, all Lamborghini models have been named after famous fighting bulls, and the bull has become the brand's symbol.

From Miura to Countach, from Espada to Jalpa, Lamborghini wrote the most glorious chapter in the supercar world of the 1960s and 70s.

However, Ferruccio was too proud. His pride led him to enter the world of supercars without hesitation after being humiliated by Enzo Ferrari, and it was this pride that made him refuse to bow to any reality.

In 1973, the oil crisis broke out, the supercar market shrank by 70%, orders plummeted, and Lamborghini's factory capacity was idle at up to 80%.

Initially, Ferruccio preferred to keep the factory running out of his own pocket rather than sell the brand to any buyer he did not approve of.

But in the end, he couldn't hold on any longer.

In 1978, Lamborghini declared bankruptcy. Ferruccio left the empire he had built with his own pride, returned to his farm to continue making tractors, and never set foot in the Sant'Agata factory again.

However, Lamborghini's history did not end after its bankruptcy; it was taken over and managed by the Swiss wealthy Mimlane brothers.

Under their management, Lamborghini launched the Countach 5000QV, a wedge-shaped supercar with a huge rear wing that became the most popular model on posters around the world in the 1980s; and the LM002, a military-grade off-road vehicle with a twelve-cylinder engine, which was jokingly called the "Lamborghini Truck".

These two cars kept Lamborghini's name on the cover of car magazines, but they still couldn't save it from the brink of collapse.

Worse still, the Mimran family made their fortune in West African countries like Senegal through sugar, grain processing, and agricultural trade. While they are undoubtedly wealthy to the general public, in the automotive industry, their capital is at best that of a "small workshop owner," utterly incapable of supporting the development of new car models.

Lamborghini urgently needs a new owner who is truly wealthy and patient enough to cultivate the sports car brand.

And this was precisely the opportunity that Lu Chen had his eye on.

In fact, Lu Chen had obtained accurate information: Lamborghini's engineering team had been secretly developing a next-generation flagship supercar codenamed "132" as the successor to the Countach.

With a six-liter V12 naturally aspirated engine, nearly 500 horsepower, a top speed exceeding 320 kilometers per hour, and equipped with a carbon fiber monocoque chassis and pushrod suspension, it represented the pinnacle of sports car performance in the late 1980s.

The only minor drawback might be that the exterior design is too sharp and aggressive, with the aerodynamic kit pushed to an uncompromising extreme by the engineers.

The car looks like a stealth fighter jet with its roof shaved off. While this perfectly fits Lamborghini's signature crazy persona, it might be too frightening for customers who park it in front of the Monte Carlo casino.

Sofia flipped through the photocopies of the design sketches in the appendix, her gaze falling on the car body outlined in pencil and watercolor. She handed the sketches to Lu Chen; the lines were indeed a bit too sharp.

"If this front end were parked on the beach, Magikarp would probably mistake it for one of their own," Sofia joked.

"It's okay, you can just smooth out the exterior after you get it back," Lu Chen took the design draft from her and traced an arc along the top of the car with his finger. "The mechanical quality is excellent. Just re-skin it and tone down the aggressive angles, and I guarantee it will sell like hotcakes."

That's for sure, after all, this legendary figure codenamed "132" was none other than Diablo, who would later become famous throughout the world.

"The Mimlán brothers are already considering selling, and you can try contacting them. After taking over, you need to implement three things: First, retain the wedge-shaped genes of the '132' and modify its appearance, naming it 'Diablo' after its launch. Second, establish an independent Lamborghini engine development department and start the development of a V12 F1 engine under its name—to truly gain a foothold in the global supercar market, you must compete with Ferrari on the same track and beat them."

"Third, the global supply chain agreements signed with Bosch in Hansgrohe and Denso in Japan will bring their electronic fuel injection systems and precision manufacturing equipment to the Sant'Agata plant, and we will complete the modernization of the production line in two years. We can no longer have workers manually hammering the body panels; we can't even guarantee the assembly precision, and it will make us a laughing stock."

Sofia closed the plan, the golden bull shield on the cover gleaming under the light.

She didn't speak, but looked up at Lu Chen, her bright eyes sparkling.

Having handled numerous business documents before, she could naturally discern the value of this plan—it wasn't a standardized proposal, but a detailed battle plan that offered customized solutions for every specific problem, tailored to her needs in every aspect, from exterior design to engine development, factory modifications, and racing strategies.

The effort he put in was no less than what she had put into acquiring Alfa Romeo. This was not just a merger proposal, but a smooth path he had paved for her.

She placed the documents on the table, leaned down, and planted a deep kiss on his lips.

After a long while, she released her hands, took a half step back, tilted her head slightly, and whispered something in his ear that only the two of them could hear.

Lu Chen's eyes lit up when he heard this, and he let out a low laugh. He leaned back in his chair and flicked Sophia's deep V-neck with one finger.

However, he didn't carry her upstairs. Instead, he sat up straight again, picked up a thin document, and handed it to her: "No rush, there's one more thing."

Sofia paused for a moment, then looked down at the cover—which featured a simple yet dignified C logo.

"I hope the High Table Group can create a high-end chain hotel brand," Lu Chen said calmly, his hands clasped on his knees. "We want to establish a presence in major developed cities around the world—including Rome, Milan, Paris, London, New York, Tokyo…"

Sofia turned to the first page, which contained a complete design concept drawing.

The hotel lobby is decorated in dark tones, with black marble floors and a brass grille that extends from the floor to the ceiling as a backdrop for the reception desk. A huge crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the lobby, but the light is dim, absorbed by the dark walls and heavy velvet curtains.

"Why the sudden urge to enter the hotel industry?"

"Not really, it's mainly to pave the way for the next step of our High Table Conference."

Sofia nodded and asked curiously, "So, what do you plan to name this hotel?"

"The Continental," Lu Chen pointed to the C logo on the cover. "In my plan, the Continental will not only provide accommodation, but also two unique value-added services: security and intelligence."

"Of course, we can discuss this in more detail later. For now—" Lu Chen suddenly grinned mischievously, then scooped Sophia up in his arms, eliciting a coquettish reproach from her, "Let's fulfill your promise first..."

Outside the window, the midday sun had already sunk behind the ridges of the Abruzzo Hills, and the study gradually darkened, with only the warm light of the desk lamp illuminating the blueprint for the business empire on the table.

The firewood in the fireplace was still burning quietly.