Only When Foreigners Make Fools of Themselves Can It Be Considered Authentic

Sister Ali had mentioned some things to them before.

However,

as a former top-tier agent who had groomed many artists, Sister Ali had both the seniority and the temper—she wouldn’t bother explaining things in detail to them.

Her attitude was strictly business: take it or leave it.

After all, they weren’t some must-sign child prodigies.

If Young Master Cao hadn’t brought them up initially, she wouldn’t have wasted this much time on them.

But,

after inviting them to Zhonghai this time, Sister Ali began to realize that she might need to put more effort into these two youngsters in the future.

After all, Young Master Cao seemed genuinely serious about them.

This mindset was natural for Sister Ali—this industry was all about favoring the rising and trampling the fallen. Without backing, value, or connections, no one would give you the time of day.

……

During the meal,

Young Master Cao outlined the company’s plans for the two girls: academics first.

Once they reached middle school, their studies and artistic training would go hand in hand.

They’d only join projects during winter and summer breaks, whether it was the company’s own productions or collaborations with others, mainly for learning purposes.

The company would arrange dormitories.

Everything that needed to be said was said.

They even had the option to study in the capital instead of being forced to stay in Zhonghai.

Finally…

Cao Cheng said, “As for the contract details, Sister Ali will handle that later. You can take some more time to think it over.”

After the meal, he left.

The company’s reception staff then arranged for the two mothers and daughters to stay at a nearby luxury hotel.

……

Two days passed in the blink of an eye.

The hype around Empresses in the Palace showed no signs of cooling down.

Emotions of all kinds were still running high.

That day, news came from Sister Ali: the mothers of Little Zifeng and Little Jinmai had both signed the contracts.

Fifteen years!

Cao Cheng suddenly “woke up.”

No.

No, no, no!

This wasn’t in line with his original vision for the company.

His initial plan was to recruit scandal-ridden artists, milk them for profit, then discard them—making money while also harvesting public outrage and trolling their brainless fans.

That was the “righteous path.”

A classic three-for-one deal.

But what was he doing now?

Grooming future Gen-Z starlets?

No doubt, nurturing young actresses could generate plenty of emotions, but it lacked chaos.

Without chaos in the industry, the emotional payoff wouldn’t be explosive enough.

So,

he needed to stir the pot.

He should be recruiting future trainwrecks—like tax-evading Bing from a wealthy family, plastic surgery-addicted Shuang who abandoned her surrogate babies abroad, or the Yang girl who rode Ming’s coattails to fame…

These people had massive influence and reputations, and when they crashed and burned, the entire nation would rage.

But then again, that didn’t seem right either.

If he brought them into his company, the likelihood of scandals would drop.

After all, his status as the future emperor’s son-in-law meant no one would dare cross him.

Thinking this over,

Cao Cheng shook his head. Forget it—he’d skip these names and just collaborate with more young idols later.

He had plenty of copyrights and IPs in his hands anyway.

Big IP + young idols = absolute garbage films.

Perfect for scamming fans.

Profit and outrage, all in one.

Beautiful!

Also,

it was time to start some drama.

2012 was just around the corner…

“What’s on your mind?”

“Why the blank stare?”

Old Cao showed up.

Cao Cheng had been sipping tea in the backyard, plotting his next move, while Old Cao slipped out for a smoke.

Probably exhausted from babysitting, Old Cao loved slacking off.

No idea where he picked up that habit.

Young Master Cao looked down on such behavior.

Cao Cheng shot him a glance: “Things feel too calm lately. No waves, no excitement—something’s missing.”

“...” Old Cao took a sip of tea, lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and exhaled with pure bliss.

Leaning back in his chair, Old Cao smirked: “Calm is bad? Listen here, kid, let me tell you—peace is the hardest thing to buy in this world.”

With a century’s worth of experience, Cao Cheng actually understood this better than Old Cao.

He knew full well that simplicity and stability were true blessings.

Countless people spent their whole lives chasing nothing more than “peace and happiness.”

But,

the two of them weren’t even talking about the same thing.

When Young Master Cao said “calm,” he wasn’t referring to life—he meant emotions.

Emotional calm was unacceptable.

How could he profit if the world wasn’t in an uproar?

“You listening to me, kid? Stop overthinking. You’re not short on cash, and you’re about to get married—your life’s practically set,” Old Cao grumbled.

Young Master Cao thought Old Cao was just bored.

His words lacked any drive.

The Old Cao of the past was nothing like this—always scheming, obsessed with women and money.

Now he acted like some retired old man waiting to die.

This wouldn’t do.

Young Master Cao said, “How about… you get a job?”

“Who?”

“You.”

“Me? Get a job?”

“Yeah!”

“Are you out of your mind? Why would I get a job when I’m perfectly fine?” Old Cao snorted. “You think I’m not tired enough?”

“What’s tiring about your life? You just laze around at home, and you don’t even have to babysit. Tell you what—my Miracle Eco-Park needs a gatekeeper.”

“...”

Old Cao’s face darkened: “Do I look like gatekeeper material? Besides, you’re a damn billionaire now. If your old man becomes a gatekeeper, wouldn’t that embarrass you?”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way. We could cut ties—then you’d be free to enjoy gatekeeping… Honestly, you’ll rot away with nothing to do at home. I’m just looking out for you, for your own good!”

“Screw you…”

Old Cao fumed: “Is that even human speech? And which one of us is really the idle one here?”

Cao Cheng shook his head: “Don’t judge by appearances. Sure, I drink tea all day, but my brain’s working overtime.”

“Working overtime my ass. Don’t think I don’t know you’re just a figurehead.”

“Surface-level observations, Old Cao. On the surface, I’m hands-off, but in reality, I’m the puppet master.”

“Puppet master my foot.”

“Hey, no need for insults.”

“What’s it to you?”

“Tsk…” Cao Cheng scoffed.

“Scoff all you want.”

“Mom!!”

“...”

Old Cao panicked instantly.

Despite their bickering,

Young Master Cao wasn’t wrong about one thing—he was the puppet master.

There was still one major task ahead. Once that was done, they could celebrate the New Year.

……

2012 arrived—the year of the apocalypse.

January 1st.

New Year’s Day!

The whole family gathered at home, lively and cheerful.

“You’re really doing a livestream?”

“Damn right.”

Eldest Sister asked, and Cao Cheng answered.

They were discussing tomorrow’s cosmetics club member meetup.

It would include CEOs from major domestic beauty brands.

But it wasn’t just a club gathering—international cosmetic industry peers would also attend.

Lately,

many foreign competitors were barely hanging on.

Smaller players were on the verge of bankruptcy.

The bigger names were struggling too, though not starving outright—after all, their businesses weren’t solely reliant on cosmetics.

They still had watches, handbags, and fashion lines.

So,

they wouldn’t keel over just yet.

For nearly half a year, the domestic cosmetics market share had been gradually devoured by a pack of wolves, revenues steadily declined, and the stock market continued its sluggish downtrend.

Even though protective tariffs were implemented across regions, they couldn’t stem the loss of market share.

The shareholders of major corporations were growing restless.

Especially those international capital vultures—how could they tolerate Dragon Country’s enterprises acting so boldly?

Cosmetics were one of their most lucrative industries.

Beauty products were deeply intertwined with luxury goods and the entertainment sector.

No one could afford to overlook this domain—nor dared to.

...

Over the past few months, international competitors had visited China countless times.

First, they sought partnerships with major cosmetics conglomerates, hoping to establish strategic alliances.

Second, they approached Xu Qing, hoping to bury the hatchet, forget past grievances, and collaborate for mutual profit.

Though they arrived with an air of sincerity and apology, their attitude remained condescending.

It couldn’t be helped.

In this day and age, they truly held the upper hand.

They didn’t take low-end industrial nations seriously, let alone the so-called tycoons within them.

This was precisely why Xu Qing had refused to yield, letting negotiations drag on while domestic firms slowly eroded the international market.

Until now.

January 2, 2012.

A cosmetics industry club gathering, with international capital players also invited.

The venue? The Peace Hotel!

Originally just an internal event, Cao Cheng had plans to turn it into a spectacle.

He invited journalists, media outlets, and arranged a live broadcast.

Tomorrow, snippets of the proceedings would be streamed, guaranteed to stir up waves of public sentiment.

Good or bad—it didn’t matter, as long as it provoked a reaction.

As for the negotiations tomorrow...

What negotiations?

If not for the emotional payoff, Young Master Cao wouldn’t even bother attending.

Wouldn’t sipping tea and flirting with women at home be far more enjoyable?

...

Yet.

To outsiders, Young Master Cao’s motives were baffling.

Take Eldest Sister, for example.

She couldn’t fathom why he insisted on the live broadcast.

It seemed pointless.

"It’s meaningful," Cao Cheng replied with a smile, pouring her a cup of tea. "You know how Zhonghai is—full of people who idolize the West, especially in business and finance circles. Tomorrow, I just want everyone to see for themselves. Only when foreigners make fools of themselves does it truly count as a proper spectacle."

"..."

...

...

The next day arrived in a blink.

The Peace Hotel.

After years of expansion and renovation, the hotel had just reopened—more luxurious and steeped in heritage than ever.

Of course, it wasn’t as wildly popular as it would be in later years.

After all, the era of influencer-driven hype hadn’t yet begun, and many of its charms remained undiscovered.

Night fell.

Countless cameras were set up outside the hotel, with reporters camped out and crowds gathering to gawk.

Platforms like Tencent and iQiyi launched live streams, drawing swarms of viewers.

Only the platforms backed by Young Master Cao secured broadcasting rights—especially for the exclusive, behind-the-scenes coverage.

Between the main event, the stream also took netizens on a tour of this century-old hotel, built after the First World War.

Naturally, its glorious history was part of the package.

At this time, few knew much about its past. Even decades later, many would only remember its exorbitant prices, unaware of its storied legacy.

Like which foreign dignitaries had been received here, how many world leaders had walked its halls, what historic agreements had been signed within.

Even the famous revolutionary slogan, "The revolution is not yet complete, comrades must continue to strive," was first uttered here.

Even the esteemed Dr. Qian held his wedding here.

Viewers were stunned... feeling as though they were witnessing history firsthand.

Especially when the livestream host casually mentioned—

In 2008,

Young Master Cao became one of the hotel’s shareholders.

Of course,

it was just a minor stake, but that alone was enough to leave fans in awe.

"How many things has our brother-in-law secretly bought without telling us?"

"Yeah, Big Bro Cao is way too good at keeping secrets."