Chapter 78: Chapter 48-49
Chapter 48: Lydia
While chatting with Anna, Bruce noticed someone from the other end of the runway waving at him. It was Lydia Hearst, a socialite rarely seen in a demure lady's guise. Today, she was boldly wearing an elegant long cardigan, her enticing legs crossed and attracting attention as she gestured his way.
Bruce responded with a nod and a smile before his gaze moved on and landed on another member of the Hearst family—her sister, Amanda Hearst.
As they exchanged greetings, Lydia whispered to Amanda, "What do you think of Bruce Lee? He seems to be getting more charming by the day."
"Mind your image, Lydia," Amanda, the epitome of a high-society lady, always mindful of her demeanor, was well aware of her sister's unconventional nature within their prestigious family. Despite a hint of envy for Lydia's unrestrained spirit, Amanda knew caution in public discourse was crucial. Fortunately, the venue's din meant their conversation likely went unheard. After stealing a few glances at Bruce, Amanda silently thanked her luck.
However, they didn't realize the presence of Bruce, with his extraordinary senses, catching their private words. He casually continued his conversation with Anna, a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
As his strength gradually returned, adjusting his physical form became increasingly effortless. These subtle yet real changes, combined with Bruce's naturally good features, had seen him evolve into an ideal of robust and well-proportioned physique and complexion. Whether in appearance or temperament, he exuded an undeniable charm.
Taylor Swifft seemed distracted today, her attention uncontrollably drifting towards Bruce. Whether he was engaging with Anna Wintou or exchanging glances with Lydia Hearst across the runway, Taylor couldn't help but feel a discomforting twinge.
"Mr. Lee seems quite popular," Taylor remarked during a pause in the conversation, her words carrying an almost imperceptible hint of sourness.
As America's most beloved young artist, accustomed to being the center of attention, she found it irksome to seemingly be overlooked by Bruce.
"Just call me Bruce," he replied earnestly, locking eyes with her striking blue irises. "In Miss Swifft's presence, I doubt many would dare claim to be popular." Today, her nude, lace-detailed gown, signature red lips, and wavy golden hair added to her allure, indeed making her a sight to behold.
Taylor wasn't convinced by Bruce's seemingly flattering yet distant praise, but meeting his gaze, she found herself momentarily lost in his steadfast, bright eyes. They shone with an unfathomable wisdom and unwavering will, his voice resonating with a soul-stirring, robust magnetism.
"Are you alright, Miss Swifft?" Bruce's question, filled with just the right touch of concern, snapped Taylor back to reality. She felt almost overwhelmed by his intense gaze and instinctively averted her eyes.
"It's just... your skin is so flawless, I was wondering if you have any special skincare routine," Taylor blurted out, eyeing Bruce's radiant, unblemished complexion. Realizing the oddity of her question, a hint of embarrassment crossed her face.
"I don't have any special routine, but my biotech company is working on new technologies to improve physical constitution. Maybe Miss Swifft could try it sometime, it might help with your concerns," Bruce replied seriously, his sunny smile revealing a set of pearly whites.
She found his smile captivating. "Good evening, Bruce, we meet again," Lydia Hearst approached Bruce from across the runway, a warm smile on her face.
"Good evening, beautiful Lydia. I know a Chinese restaurant with excellent cuisine. Would I have the honor of inviting you to dinner?" Bruce inquired, intrigued by this opportunity.
Lydia Hearst, with her alluring figure and striking looks, was among People magazine's 50 most beautiful professional women and a signature model for a major American company, standing tall at 176 cm.
But Bruce was more interested in her status as an heiress to the media giant Hearst family. As one of the world's largest multimedia conglomerates, the Hearst Corporation's vast business interests ranged from 15 daily newspapers, 38 weekly magazines, over 300 magazine publications globally, local TV stations covering 18% of US households, cable TV networks, and ventures into commercial publishing, e-commerce, television production, newspaper distribution, and real estate.
Properly leveraged, this could be a significant asset.
"Chinese cuisine? Isn't it a bit too greasy?"
Lydia was a connoisseur of life's finer things. In America, despite the ubiquity of Chinese restaurants, their standing doesn't match French cuisine, even lagging behind Italian. Several factors contribute to this perception, like their affordability, repetitiveness in menus, and a lack of emphasis on presentation and innovation, leading to a stereotypical image.
"Perhaps it's time to change that perception. At least you should trust my taste, shouldn't you?" Bruce said with a smile, meeting her emerald eyes.
"I look forward to your surprise," Lydia felt herself drawn into his deep gaze, finding him irresistibly handsome.
After agreeing on a place, they discreetly left the venue a few minutes apart, each in their own vehicle, to avoid the prying lenses of the paparazzi.
Chapter 49: A Romantic Evening
Dinner was arranged at Jade Temple, a restaurant in Chinatown renowned for its antique ambiance, tranquil atmosphere, and exquisite dishes, all of which left Lydia singing its praises.
The first course was served in a small, crystal-clear porcelain bowl - a tea-colored broth, rich yet clear, with a palm-sized yellow leaf floating delicately on top.
"What soup is this?" Lydia asked curiously, eyeing the bowl in front of her.
"Kai Shui Bai Cai," Bruce smiled, gesturing for her to try it. "Don't worry about the name for now. Just taste it and see what you think of my choice."
Lydia delicately spooned a taste into her mouth, her beautiful eyes widening in astonishment. "Incredible, this flavor... wow, I don't even know how to describe it."
At first glance, this dish seemed simple but was actually a century-old imperial delicacy, marrying complexity with simplicity. The dish might look plain—a clear broth with a vegetable leaf—but it showcased supreme culinary skills.
The so-called 'Kai Shui' was actually supreme chicken broth, prepared with ingredients like old hen, duck, ham, pork ribs, and scallops, each boiled separately to remove impurities. The broth was seasoned with cooking wine, green onion, and garlic, and simmered for at least 4 hours. Chicken breast meat was then minced into a paste, blended with fresh broth to form a slurry, and added to the pot to absorb impurities.
After two or three repetitions, the originally cloudy chicken broth transformed into a clear, refreshing soup, rich in flavor but not greasy, soothing to the soul.
The chosen cabbage was just shy of fully mature, a delicacy in its own right. Only the tender hearts were used, blanched and then cooled in clear water to remove any bitterness, then drenched in boiling hot chicken broth to cook. The blanching broth was discarded, and the tender hearts were placed at the bottom of the bowl, with fresh chicken broth gently poured over them to complete the dish.
When the lid was lifted, the aroma filled the room, and the taste was refreshingly tender and exquisite, easily surpassing any ordinary delicacy a thousandfold, delighting Lydia to the point where she nearly swallowed her own tongue.
Following dishes like braised shark fin soup, stuffed yellow croaker, and oil-braised prawns were all top-notch traditional delicacies, exquisite without being ostentatious, impressing the privileged Lydia so much that she eventually patted her belly, pleadingly admitting defeat: "I was wrong to doubt you. These dishes are fantastic, but I can't eat anymore, or I'll end up on the front page tomorrow as Lydia who let herself go..."
"Realizing your mistake now? Too late!" Bruce looked at her pitiful expression unyieldingly but then burst into laughter. "Alright, I'll let you off. On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate this dinner?"
"Twelve!" Lydia laughed heartily, "I must recommend this place to my friends. Let them gain some weight too."
This restaurant was a high-end recommendation from Bruce's student circle, initially beyond his means. A seemingly simple meal of seven or eight dishes cost nearly $3,000. But Bruce felt it was worth every penny, with its ambiance, service, and meticulously prepared cuisine making the expense worthwhile.
"So, what's next? Any more surprises, Bruce?" Lydia asked eagerly, linking her arm with Bruce's as they walked out of the restaurant and into the car.
"Are you sure you want more surprises?" Bruce teased, gazing at her.
"You can't dwell on the past, Bruce. It's ungentlemanly. Tonight's about showing off your charm," Lydia retorted, her green eyes challenging him.
"How about this? We take turns deciding tonight's itinerary and see who's more creative. The loser has to grant the winner one request," Bruce quickly devised a plan.
"A bet? I like it, but we need to judge fairly," Lydia, evidently with a taste for fun, was thrilled by the prospect.
"Of course, I'm a gentleman. Your turn, where are we headed?" Bruce pledged, hand raised as if taking an oath.
"Ha, I've already won. Do you know the best Broadway show right now? Let's go!" Lydia said triumphantly, confident of her victory.
New York, standing proudly on the Atlantic coast, radiates an indescribable charm at night. As New Yorkers fond of nightlife often say: "The night is still young."
And Broadway is undoubtedly a highlight of New York's nightlife. Geographically, Broadway is a major north-south thoroughfare in Manhattan, gradually becoming synonymous with American musical theatre since the mid-19th century. Here, annual box office revenue can reach billions of dollars. When including the income of surrounding businesses (restaurants, bars, souvenir shops), the annual output exceeds $3.5 billion.
Lydia, a regular here, chose a show at Ambassadoropera on 49th Street. Instead of classic hits like "Chicago" or "Les Misérables," she opted for a production named "Rent."
Unlike traditional shows with elaborate stage decorations, luxurious costumes, and grand scenes, "Rent" had a simple backdrop—just stairs and a few tables as props, putting the actors' talents to the test. Could they draw the audience into the story? Unlike movies, stage actors have to sing, dance, deliver lines, and above all, perform just right.
"Rent" tells the story of roommates with different lifestyles and ambitions, grappling with the conflicts between reality and dreams. When love comes knocking, they hesitate between acceptance and evasion.
The actors on stage were clearly passionate about their craft, immersing themselves in their roles throughout the nearly three-hour performance. They sang and danced, and every movement, whether under the spotlight or not, was deeply infused with their characters' essence, regardless of their role, lead or supporting.
It was an incredibly captivating production, evident from the audience's rapt attention and engagement. As the final high note faded and the actors struck their last, explosive pose, the entire audience rose to their feet in applause, showering praise, including Bruce and Lydia, who were seated in the prime seats.
"How was it, Bruce?" Lydia leaned close to his ear amidst the thunderous applause and asked loudly.
"Fantastic!" Bruce was equally appreciative of the play. The delicate yet exuberant performances brilliantly showcased the excellent script and the talent of the actors, immersing him in the art and culture that humans so passionately indulge in, with its unique allure.
"So, are you ready to concede?" Lydia boasted, her choice of this play amidst the countless dazzling productions on Broadway, and not relying on famous blockbusters, clearly demonstrated her taste and discernment.
"Are you kidding? I admit it's a great play, but I've still got surprises up my sleeve," Bruce replied with a teasing lift of his eyebrow and a mysterious smile.
He took Lydia to an Off-Broadway theater, meaning those smaller venues outside the traditional 39 Broadway theaters. These theaters, often seating only a couple of hundred, offered more bizarre and varied themes, more experimental forms of performance, focusing on audience interaction, and were much cheaper.
It was nearing midnight, but the performance was still underway. The venue was small, with minimal lighting effects, and even the accompaniment was played live by the actors. This experimental performance, titled "Not Too Many at Eight," lacked a coherent plot, its appeal lying entirely in audience interaction. The audience even set most of the characters—rabbits, Obama, Little Red Riding Hood—and assigned them to different actors.
The actors had to not only mimic these characters convincingly but also weave logically consistent stories between them.
If the audience disapproved of a line, they had the right to boo, prompting the actors to revise it on the spot. For instance, when Little Red Riding Hood entered saying, "What lovely weather today!" the audience shook their heads. "What terrible weather today!" the audience stamped their feet— "Off to see that damned Granny today!" the audience cheered loudly!
Lydia, who had never seen such a raw, improvisational performance, was thoroughly entertained by the exaggerated yet accurate portrayal by the actors, joining in with the audience's boisterous participation.
At one point, a young girl recognized Bruce and Lydia and stared at them in astonishment. Bruce, however, threw her a playful glance and gestured for secrecy, prompting a knowing laugh and a thumbs-up from her.
Fame came with its price. As the Solar Corona company gradually came into public view, Bruce knew he couldn't blend in with the masses for much longer.
The eight vignettes wrapped up amidst laughter, and only then did Lydia grasp the meaning behind the title—"Not Too Many at Eight." Although the venue wasn't top-tier, the dedication and artistic quality of the chubby bunnies were beyond reproach.
"Bruce, thank you. This has been the happiest evening of my life." Lydia's face was flushed with excitement as they quietly left.
"Does that mean you're conceding?" Bruce asked, gently holding the joyfully spinning Lydia, a smile on his face.
"You win! I don't care about the bet! What lovely weather today!" Lydia laughed, repeating a line from the play, unabashedly wrapping her arms around Bruce and kissing him.
The kiss seemed to last an eternity, stealing her very soul, and it was some time before they parted. Lydia leaned against Bruce's sturdy chest, listening to his heartbeat, her breathing heavy.
"Is it late? Shall I take you home?" Bruce asked, not out of sheer kindness or intent to let her go—two beauties were waiting for him after all. As for a threesome, the timing wasn't quite right yet. This passionate heiress was surely within his grasp, wasn't she?
"No, let me stay like this for a bit," Lydia murmured, feeling irresistibly drawn to Bruce, like a strong magnet. Though she was open-minded and experienced in love, she had never felt this fully engaged, this utterly captivated. If Bruce chose to keep her, she doubted she could resist.
After a moment, Lydia and Bruce got into the car. The limousine took her to her luxury apartment at Cityspire on West 56th Street in Manhattan. The heiress of the Hearst family lived alone, and Bruce knew he could enter her fragrant abode if he wished. But he didn't go in, merely escorting her to the door.
"Will we see each other again, Bruce?" Lydia asked, sensing something amiss, her mood slightly dampened as she kissed him gently on the lips.
"Of course! Don't forget, you still owe me a favor," Bruce said, embracing the beautiful lady and kissing her passionately until she was nearly overwhelmed.
"Good night, Bruce," Lydia whispered, then hurried into the apartment.
This seemingly carefree, passionate heiress was still single. Beneath her cheerful exterior was a sensitive heart, sensing that Bruce wasn't as invested as she was, which made her feel a tinge of loss in the end.
Was this the so-called woman's intuition? Bruce, who thought he was flawlessly discreet, wondered with a hint of puzzlement.
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