RNP Page 47
Page 47
“Kamsahamida, Mr. Hawke!” She bowed slightly again, this time with much more sincerity and a special Korean solemnity. “It is my honor to be welcomed by you.”
..... 0 ....
Hawke's smile deepened.
He deliberately glanced around at the elegantly dressed, clinking glasses of the crowd, then leaned forward slightly, getting closer to Cheon Song-yi, and lowered his voice, his tone carrying a teasing intimacy:
“To be honest, Ms. Qian, the first time I attended a banquet of this caliber, I was just as nervous as if I were standing on the stage of a concert for tens of thousands of people for the first time. Right over there,” he casually gestured with his chin toward a corner with a giant abstract sculpture, “I almost spilled a whole glass of champagne on a congressman’s custom-made shoes. Believe me, Tony almost laughed himself to death.”
"Really?!" Cheon Song-yi covered her mouth, letting out a small exclamation, then couldn't help but chuckle. Instantly, the image of the man who controlled a vast wealth empire before her seemed to have descended from the clouds to the ground, becoming incredibly vivid and approachable. "Then... what happened to that congressman afterward?"
“Oh,” Hawke shrugged, looking relaxed, “the congressman got me another glass of champagne, kept apologizing for accidentally blocking my way, and then,” he winked, “my father sponsored his campaign for state legislator…”
This short story, with its touch of dark humor and American flair, completely broke through Cheon Song-yi's tense nerves.
Her shoulders trembled slightly as she laughed, and the corners of her eyes curved into charming crescents, almost completely erasing her previous restraint and caution.
85 Superstar Cheon Song-yi [Please subscribe and give flowers]
She looked at Hawke, her eyes filled with curiosity and fondness: "Mr. Hawke, you... are really different!"
"What's different?" Hawke asked with interest, casually taking a glass of juice from the tray the waiter passed by and handing it to Cheon Song-yi, replacing her almost untouched glass of red wine.
"Thank you." Cheon Song-yi thanked her instinctively, took the juice, and organized her thoughts. "In Korea..." she hesitated, her voice lowering, "the chairmen I've met are all very...serious, very distant. They always speak very briefly, and their expressions are minimal, as if they're constantly thinking about multi-billion dollar deals."
She shook her head slightly, as if recalling some unpleasant experiences.
“Oh? That sounds like a moving financial statement,” Hawke made a funny, robotic nodding gesture, which made “507” Chun Song-yi chuckle again. “I guess they won’t talk about the embarrassing incident of almost spilling wine on a senator’s shoes?”
“Absolutely not!” Chun Song-yi said with certainty, her tone tinged with exaggerated surprise. “That would be… an unimaginable lapse in composure for them! They would feel that it damaged the dignity and prestige of the chaebol.”
She paused, looking at Hawke's relaxed and casual demeanor, and sincerely exclaimed, "So you really are... completely different. I thought someone as important as you would be more... more..."
She couldn't find the right English word to describe that feeling of oppression.
"More aloof? More like a self-important 'King'?" Hawke finished for her, smiling as he took a sip of whiskey. "There are plenty of people on Wall Street who put on a serious face all day long. In their eyes, I'm probably just a 'good-for-nothing' playboy."
He laughed at himself without a care.
This unconventional "capitalist manifesto" completely overturned Cheon Song-yi's stereotypes about top tycoons.
“Oh, right,” Hawke suddenly grinned slyly, “Tony actually secretly collected all your TV series Blu-ray discs and even tried to get me to get him your autographed photo when I opened a branch office in Seoul. Of course, don’t tell him this, he’s very concerned about his image.”
"What?!" Cheon Song-yi exclaimed in surprise this time, then covered her face and laughed so hard she almost fell over.
Hawke was worlds apart from the aloof and arrogant South Korean chaebols she knew who treated celebrities like playthings.
An unprecedented sense of ease and joy enveloped her.
She felt that Hawke was more like a friend who knew how to enjoy life and was charming?
Okay, maybe they're not friends yet, but he's definitely the most interesting and least intimidating big shot she's ever met in this bizarre and dazzling world of American fame and fortune.
Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Hawke, her admiration and affection almost overflowing, the previous awe replaced by a warm sense of closeness.
“Mr. Hawke,” Chun Song-yi picked up her glass of juice, clinked glasses with him sincerely, and smiled the brightest and most relaxed smile she had seen all evening, “Kamsahamnida. Meeting you tonight is probably the best ‘New York welcome gift’ I’ve ever received.”
He smiled with satisfaction: "It's my honor, Miss Cheon Song-yi. The starlight tonight seems even brighter because of you."
He looked at her meaningfully, watching her subconsciously take a sip of champagne, leaving a light, alluring mark on the rim of the glass with her lips.
The banquet ended successfully, and Hawke declined Tony's and many supermodels' invitations to a nightclub trip, hurriedly stuffing Cheon Song-yi into the car.
At the Steinway Building, the dazzling lights and bustling crowds were replaced by the steady hum of the elevators as they ascended.
Hawke's penthouse suite door slid open silently, and the city's dazzling lights streamed through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, casting dappled shadows on the carpet.
Cheon Song-yi took a deep breath, her high heels making a slight thud on the thick carpet, making her more nervous than she had imagined stepping into any Korean chaebol's office.
“Welcome to my ‘temporary command post’,” Hawke casually tossed his suit jacket onto the expensive armchair, raising an eyebrow at her. “How’s it compared to Stark’s flamboyant style? At least there aren’t any robots carrying martinis around.”
Cheon Song-yi was amused by his relaxed tone, and her awkwardness dissipated a little: "It's... very quiet here, and the view is great."
She walked to the window and looked down at the sleeping city: "It's like looking at a giant model."
Hawke took two crystal glasses, poured in ice water, and handed her one: "Want to quench your thirst? The champagne I just drank almost made me feel like I was in a Shakespearean play."
"Pfft..." Cheon Song-yi took the water glass, unable to suppress a laugh, "Kamsahamnida 0... Mr. Hawke, you really... are very good at making people relax."
“Call me Hawk,” he corrected, leaning lazily against the bar. “‘Sir’ sounds like I need to talk to you about the annual KPIs. Relax, Ms. Cheon Song-yi, there are no flashing lights here, and no president you need to bow to at ninety degrees.”
He took a few steps closer, his gaze falling on her cheeks, which glowed beautifully from the slight intoxication and the lamplight.
“To be honest,” Hawke’s voice deepened, with a candid smile, “what attracted me most tonight was that big star at the buffet table, nervously practicing his English against thin air.”
Cheon Song-yi's face instantly turned bright red, like a ripe strawberry: "Ah! You...you saw everything?" She covered her face in annoyance, "I thought no one noticed...it's so embarrassing."
“Quite the opposite,” Hawke chuckled, reaching out to gently brush a strand of curly hair that had fallen across her cheek, a gesture as natural as if he had done it countless times, “absolutely adorable.”
His fingertips, slightly warm, brushed against her skin.
Cheon Song-yi's heart skipped a beat as she looked up and met his deep, smiling eyes.
“Hawk…” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly without her even realizing it.
"Hmm?" he responded, moving a little closer.
“Um…” Cheon Song-yi tried to regain some of her Hallyu queen aura, but crumbled under the other party’s powerful presence. “You 4.8… what you said in the banquet hall just now…”
"Which sentence? Is it about Tony collecting your Blu-ray discs? Or is it about you not being a mobile financial statement?"
"Neither!" Cheon Song-yi playfully punched his shoulder, the force as light as a feather. "It was about... the line 'The starlight shines brighter because of me'!"
She regretted it as soon as she said it, and her cheeks burned even hotter.
Hawke laughed, and naturally took the hand she was throwing at, gently pulling her into his arms with a little force.
"Oh, that. That was the truth. Like now..."
Hawke lowered his head and fiercely intercepted her breath.
Cheon Song-yi responded awkwardly yet passionately. The tension she had maintained for so long in the Korean entertainment industry and the caution ingrained in her bones strangely relaxed and melted away in this man's arms.
Is 86 going to film "My Love from the Star"? [Seeking all kinds of recommendations]
Hawke's fingers deftly untied the intricate ties at the back of her long gold dress, which cascaded down the carpet like a golden stream.
As her skin touched the cool air, Cheon Song-yi shivered slightly, only to be enveloped in Hawke's warm and firm embrace.
“Wow,” Hawke stepped back a little, his gaze burning as he admired the view before him, “Now, the starlight is in my arms.”
His praise was straightforward and passionate, without any pretense.
Under his gaze, Cheon Song-yi felt both shy and a surge of unprecedented confidence. She deliberately straightened her back and imitated her signature "Queen Cheon" tone, only her voice was hoarse with emotion: "So... is this audience member satisfied with this 'starlight'?"
"Perfect score." Hawke smiled, picked her up, and carried her to the bedroom.
..........................................
The disheveled silk sheets wrapped around the two people whose limbs were intertwined.
Cheon Song-yi leaned lazily against Hawke's chest, her fingers unconsciously tracing circles on his muscular chest, her face still flushed and filled with an unprecedented sense of satisfaction.
“So…06,” Hawke toyed with a strand of her long, flowing curls, “would you be interested in trying something on a bigger stage?”
"Huh?" Cheon Song-yi opened her eyes, still a little confused. "A bigger stage? Seoul Olympic Stadium? Or... Madison Square Garden?"
Her thinking was clearly still within the realm of performance.
Hawke chuckled: "Perspective, Miss Qian, you need to broaden your horizons." He turned to the side, propped his head up to look at her, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I'm talking about Hollywood."
"Hollywood!" Cheon Song-yi sat bolt upright, ignoring the blanket slipping off her body, her eyes wide with surprise. "You mean... you're inviting me to Hollywood to make a movie?!"
The impact of this news is no less than Hawke's performance just now.
“Bingo!” Hawke snapped his fingers. “But it’s not just about making movies. I’m going to start an entertainment company, a completely new one, without the stale smell of those old studios.”
His tone carried the passion of an entrepreneur and the confidence of a tycoon.
"An entertainment company?!" Qian Songyi covered her mouth, too shocked to speak.
“That’s right.” Hawke sat up, beaming with excitement, as if he were describing a grand blueprint. “Hollywood needs fresh blood, and it also needs a truly global perspective. And you, Ms. Cheon Song-yi, possess the charm to sweep across Asia, top-notch professional skills, and most importantly…” He winked mischievously, “Even Tony Stark is a fan of your shows, bringing your own super IP traffic.”
Chun Song-yi was stunned by what he said, overwhelmed by a huge sense of opportunity and excitement: "Then... what about the first project? The company needs a great start, right?"
Hawke smiled mysteriously and leaned close to her ear: "Let's start with a TV series. I've already thought of a name."
"What should I call you?" Cheon Song-yi's heart jumped into her throat.
“My Love from the Star,” Hawke said, enunciating each word clearly.
"Morako?!" Cheon Song-yi was completely stunned, instinctively blurting out in Korean, "This...this name...it sounds so strange! Aliens? From a science fiction movie?"
This is completely different from her previous romantic comedy style!
“It’s somewhat related to science fiction,” Hawke said, a sly glint in his eyes, “but it’s primarily a romantic comedy! The core premise is the love story between an alien who has lived on Earth for hundreds of years and a… well, a top national actress.”
He looked at her meaningfully.
Cheon Song-yi was stunned, then realized: "You mean... you want me to play myself?!"
This setting is just too... too tailor-made!
"Smart!" Hawke pinched her cheek approvingly. "Think about it, top female celebrities might be a little eccentric and arrogant in private, and need to practice their English with thin air..."
"Hey! Hawke!" she protested, blushing and punching Hawke with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
The two of them laughed and played around on the bed.
A moment later, Cheon Song-yi stopped, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Hawke with disbelief and immense excitement: "Are you serious? You're going to... make me the female lead? In 'My Love from the Star'?"
“It’s even more authentic than Tony’s collection of your Blu-ray discs.” Hawke almost swore to God.
Looking at the man before her, Cheon Song-yi was instantly filled with immense joy and courage.
Without further hesitation, she reached out and firmly grasped Hawke's hand.
"Yes! Hawke... President Nim! Deal!"
Meanwhile, Cipher, who had already woken up and left on his own, hailed a taxi and headed to his hotel.
"Hiss—" As she sat in the back seat, a sharp pain shot through her sensitive area. She adjusted her posture, and despite the discomfort, she didn't look embarrassed at all.
His fingertips tapped silently on the leather seat, his mind replaying every detail of his confrontation with Hawke—that kid's strength and irresistible skills were indeed much more troublesome than they had been three years ago.