America: From a Fallen Child Star to the Head of the University of the West

Later that day.

On the way to the Ritz-Carlton Hotel, in the back seat of a taxi.

Sean was looking out the window at the fleeting street scene, holding his phone to his ear.

"Rachel, what news is it that you're calling me so late?"

The top female reporter on the other end of the phone was clearly not in the mood for flirting; her tone carried an accusatory undertone: "Sean, I want to know if that community support center thing is true?"

"Huh? How would I know?" Sean feigned ignorance.

"Don't try to fool me, you're definitely behind this."

"I'm innocent, big reporter." Sean shifted to a more comfortable position. "I'm just a small-time internet celebrity who makes videos documenting my life. I never imagined that building was worth so much. Three hundred thousand US dollars a year, wow, I'd like to work there as a security guard."

"Don't give me that!" Rachel's voice rose considerably. "The way those comments are stirring things up is so professional. What did you learn from Musk's PR team? I can't think of anyone else but you bastard who would do something so despicable."

"Lei, how could you say that about your old friend?"

"Don't call me Rachel! Are we that close?" Rachel sounded a little angry. "And don't change the subject!"

"Alright, alright, don't be angry." Sean glanced at the hotel entrance that was just a stone's throw away, his smile fading. "I have to attend a charity gala right now, I don't have time to explain. If you have time to come to Philadelphia later, I'll treat you to coffee, and I'll also give you a big scoop."

"What big news? Feed me? Hey!"

Sean hung up the phone, casually straightened his tie, and got out of the car...

……

The Ritz-Carlton Hotel is brightly lit tonight.

Luxury cars streamed in and out of the gate, and the men, dressed in suits, and the women, adorned with jewels, stepped out. This is a crucial element of the American political landscape: a charity gala.

Sean handed over the invitation and stepped into the banquet hall.

Instantly, an atmosphere of extravagance washed over us. The light from the crystal chandelier was blinding, and the air was thick with the scents of expensive perfumes and alcohol.

He squinted slightly, and the numbers above everyone's heads were clearly visible.

【-twenty four】

【-twenty four】

【-twenty four】

Looking around, the entire venue was filled with red.

This is no charity gala; it's clearly a trap set against him!

Just then, a figure carrying a champagne glass walked straight toward him.

Catherine Donovan.

The Philadelphia city councilwoman looked elegant and sophisticated in a dark green evening gown. With a professional, almost artificial smile, she winked at the photographers nearby even before she reached them.

This guy's favorability towards me is only -20.

Before Sean could think any further, the flashes from the cameras around him immediately went off.

"Oh, Mr. Penn is here!" Donovan's voice was loud enough for everyone around to hear. "It's our 'big star,' Mr. Sean Penn. I never expected you to grace us with your presence."

"You've overstated it?" Sean put on an impeccable smile, extended his hand and gently shook hers. "In fact, I'm also very concerned about children's education in Philadelphia."

"Really?" Donovan didn't loosen his grip; instead, he tightened it. "I thought Mr. Pan was only concerned with creating chaos online. But speaking of which, do you really like children?"

The moment she finished speaking, Sean knew it was a trap.

This is not only a veiled insult that he is a clown who only causes trouble, but also an extremely malicious implication.

In Hollywood, if a single male celebrity shows an "excessive fondness for children," it's easy to draw parallels to Michael Jackson's past scandals.

But if he says he doesn't like it, then he's cold-blooded and heartless, an antisocial monster.

Donovan's move was extremely insidious.

However, Sean's smile remained unchanged. He calmly withdrew his hand, his gaze sweeping over the reporters around him who were listening intently.

"Madam Congresswoman, no one in this world dislikes the future."

"Children are the future of this country. Protecting them and preventing them from becoming tools for greedy organizations to make money is the responsibility of every adult. Don't you agree?"

"This..." Donovan forced a smile, "Is this your reason for coming here?"

"No, it's not just that!"

"You know, I started acting when I was very young. I think in a sense, I can better understand the feelings of children and the difficulties they encounter in the process of growing up."

Sean then feigned sadness and looked at the group of reporters who seemed to enjoy the spectacle:

"Everyone, did you know? I remembered something. When I landed in Pennsylvania from Los Angeles, I met a mother and daughter from my hometown. The girl was probably only a little taller than my waist. Her father died at work two years ago, but his company only compensated them with 20,000 yuan."

"Her mother was raising her child alone, unable to find work and homeless. How could I help them? Look at me! I'm just a powerless, washed-up celebrity, a hypocrite in the eyes of the public! But even so, I still promised that girl. I promised her that I would run for president for her sake, to give her and her mother a better life!"

"So, Congressman Donovan, there's another reason I'm here: a promise," Sean said, his eyes red. "My God, I still remember her name, she's Emma from Scranton!"

"Emma! I remember your promise!"

At that moment, the goodwill towards Sean skyrocketed, even Donovan was taken aback by him, her smile freezing on her face. Goodwill remained unchanged.

Her punch not only hit cotton, but also bounced off and covered her in dust.

"Well, this story is very touching. With so many reporters here, I'm sure many kind-hearted people, like the guests here, will lend a helping hand to that mother and daughter." She chuckled twice and quickly changed the subject. "Then I won't disturb Mr. Pan's enjoyment any longer. Please make yourself at home."

After saying that, she turned and left, her back view looking somewhat disheveled.

Shaun wins the first round!

……

Twenty minutes later, the banquet officially began.

On stage, the star of the night, and the biggest donor to this charity gala, James Watkins, stepped in front of the microphone.

The elderly man with gray hair was in high spirits and looked to be no more than fifty years old, just like a kind neighborly grandfather.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Watkins' voice boomed, "thank you all for coming tonight. In these challenging times, we are still gathered together for the children who need help..."

It was all just nice-sounding platitudes.

“Some people,” Watkins said, his gaze drifting intentionally or unintentionally towards the corner where Sean was, “always like to make noise in the shadows, trying to tear our community apart. But we are different. We choose action, we choose to build, we choose the light!”

The applause of the audience was thunderous.

Sean clapped along, even more enthusiastically than anyone else, as if Watkins wasn't cursing him at all.

After Watkins finished speaking, he handed the microphone to Robert Harrison, who was standing next to him.

The attorney general clearly didn't want to be the first to speak out at this time. He took the microphone, uttered a couple of meaningless phrases like "supporting justice and upholding the rule of law," and immediately passed the buck to the black woman in the bright yellow suit next to him.

Patricia Howard, the new mayor of Philadelphia.

She was sworn in at the beginning of January this year, about twenty days ago. As the first Black female mayor in Philadelphia's history, she is the biggest winner in terms of political correctness.

But at this moment, the winner's expression was not good.

Because the reporters in the audience had changed their expressions.

"Then let me say a few words..."

"Madam Mayor," Howard had barely finished speaking when a sharp voice rang out, "what is the city government's response regarding the recent allegations of fraudulent funding by community mutual aid centers? That's the heart of your district."

Howard tightened his grip on the microphone.

"Uh, about this issue..." She cleared her throat, beginning to dodge the question, "We are investigating. I want to emphasize that any accusation requires evidence, and we can't just accept it based on some rumors circulating online..."

“But Mayor,” another reporter interrupted her, “the funding records are public. It’s also a fact that that building has been vacant for years. And investigations show that there are many similar institutions in Philadelphia. Didn’t your campaign promise of ‘a crackdown on crime’ include this kind of crime?”

"We...we will establish a special committee..." Howard's speech quickened. "We want to ensure procedural justice, we want...we want to embrace different voices..."

"Madam Mayor, please answer this directly! Where exactly is the taxpayers' money going?"

"Is it because it involves a specific ethnic group that the city government is afraid to investigate?"

The reporters, like sharks smelling blood, bombarded the new mayor with questions, forcing him into a retreat.

The atmosphere in the entire banquet hall was extremely awkward.

Even the female mayor wanted to yell: Why do you keep harping on this issue!

In the midst of this deathly silence, a burst of laughter suddenly erupted.

"Hahahaha!"

Everyone, including the important figures on the stage, turned around in astonishment to look at the source of the laughter.

Sean Penn stood in the center of the crowd, holding a champagne glass, laughing so hard he was almost in tears.

"Excuse me, everyone, I was just thinking about something happy."