106: Chapter 106 Nest Building, Dream Construction and the Scale in the Dark

Alan, the real estate agent, was a man who seemed to have walked straight off the set of "Mad Men." His hair was perfectly in place, his suit was impeccably pressed, and his speech was precise. On the tablet in his hand were four top-tier properties that had been screened to meet Alex's requirements: "ocean views, sufficient privacy, open space, and potential for renovation."

The first was a traditional luxury mansion in Malibu with magnificent ocean views, but the courtyard was too orderly, making it feel a bit like a "landscaped showroom." The second was a modernist fortress in Holmby Hills, with an unbeatable view and tight security, but it was as cold as a museum. Alex and Taylor sat side-by-side in the backseat of Alan's car, quickly browsing through the data and on-site photos, occasionally exchanging glances.

"Here," Taylor pointed to the third option, a low-profile California ranch-style home nestled deep within the canopy of Brentwood. "The main house is of moderate size, but the backyard is large, extending all the way to the edge of the hillside, with views of some city lights and the sea level. The key is that those old oak trees and the separate small guest house look like they have a sense of life." In the photo, sunlight filtered through the leaves onto the wooden exterior walls, creating a warm and tranquil atmosphere.

Alex zoomed in on the picture, noticing a detached warehouse-style building on the side of the main house. "This could be converted into a rehearsal room or a small recording studio," he looked at Taylor, "and it's not too far from your studio or downtown."

Alan keenly caught his client's point of interest and immediately pulled up the detailed blueprints and property information: "The owner of this property is a retired architect. It has been extremely well-maintained, the structure is solid, and many interior details are custom-made. Because the location is relatively low-profile, the price is quite advantageous among similar properties. Of course, 'advantageous' is relative." He quoted a figure that would make an ordinary person dizzy.

Alex didn't blink, simply asking: "Can you arrange an on-site viewing for tomorrow? We need to feel the space, not just look at pictures."

"Of course, Mr. Su, Ms. Allison, I will arrange it." Alan was highly efficient.

The viewing process went smoothly. The actual site was even more impressive than the photos. The high-ceilinged living room featured a full wall of folding glass doors that, when opened, blended seamlessly with the wooden deck and the rolling backyard. The study left behind by the old architect had floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and excellent soundproofing. The warehouse space was square, with high ceilings and complete utilities, making it truly perfect for renovation. Taylor lingered in the kitchen for a long time, stroking the granite countertops and professional-grade stove, her eyes shining.

"We can plant some herbs in the backyard, or even set up a small vegetable patch." She turned back to say to Alex, her tone naturally planning as if this were already home.

Alex stood at the edge of the deck, looking at the distant, faint sea level and the layers of greenery and city silhouettes beneath his feet, and nodded. "Let's go with this one. Alan, start the process, full payment. I hope to complete the transaction as soon as possible. I will contact the renovation team on my end."

Crisp and decisive, without even haggling. Alan tried to maintain a professional expression, but the shock in his eyes was hard to completely hide. Taylor walked over to Alex's side, her hand gently wrapping around his waist, her head resting on his shoulder. She said nothing, yet it spoke volumes. The impulse to nest felt particularly natural and warm while one's career was soaring.

Funds were quickly transferred, and the purchase contract entered the legal process. At the same time, Alex registered an LLC named "Echo Vision" through Lauren, consolidating film investments, some music copyright management, and other potential future visual projects. He also ordered a modified Mercedes Sprinter business van, equipped with simple audio-visual processing equipment and comfortable seats inside, for the team's short trips and mobile office needs. These moves were quiet, yet they marked a solid step forward in his transition from an individual creator to a builder of his own small-scale "content kingdom."

In Sophia Chen's studio, the atmosphere was completely different. The walls were covered with concept art, storyboard sketches, and obscure philosophical notes for "city of instantaneity." The air smelled of coffee and old paper.

Alex brought his "visual proposal"—not blueprints, but a three-minute concept video he had edited using After Effects and an existing stock footage library. Using his intuition for image rhythm from [Creative Master] and abstract visual memories from the future (such as UI designs from certain sci-fi series or lighting concepts from art installations), he transformed the core concept of "uneven time" into a perceptible visual language:

· "Time Scars": On the skin of characters or the surfaces of objects, glowing patterns resembling tree rings or water ripples would briefly appear. The density represented the flow of time the individual or object was experiencing. It was fleeting and only visible from specific angles or under certain emotions.

· "Memory Precipitation": In certain areas, it would rain "memory rain." When raindrops hit the ground or objects, they would splash up subtle, blurry fragments of past images, untouchable, only to be witnessed.

· "Lagging Afterimages": Objects or people moving quickly would drag behind them several faded, slightly delayed "afterimages," as if the same existence across different time slices were briefly superimposed.

The video's soundtrack was a minimalist electronic soundscape he had composed on the spot, ethereal and slightly unsettling.

When the playback ended, the studio was silent. Sophia stared at the frozen screen for a long time without speaking. Her two core team members—the screenwriter and the art director—also wore shocked expressions.

"This..." Sophia finally spoke, her voice somewhat dry, "This isn't a supplement, this redefines the visual tone of this film. 'Time Scars' and 'Memory Precipitation'... How did you think of these? This is more direct than all the abstract metaphors we discussed before, and more... beautiful and eerie."

"I thought, if time is truly uneven, it should leave 'traces' in the world, not just be a feeling." Alex said calmly, "We need to let the audience 'see' time, not just be told about its anomalies."

Sophia took a deep breath and turned to her team: "We need to adjust the third act. What Alex provided isn't an 'effect,' it's a 'language.' We must rewrite some scenes using this language." She looked at Alex, her eyes burning, "The title of co-producer isn't enough. I need you to be deeply involved in the visual design team, at least during the critical early stages. Time is tight, and the budget..."

"The budget can be increased," Alex said decisively, "My 'Echo Vision' company will formally invest, and we will send a small team to assist. But I have one condition: the final decision on visual style requires both our signatures. Artistically, we are equals."

Sophia extended her hand: "Deal. Welcome to the crazy world of "city of instantaneity."

Tour rehearsals were moving forward day and night in the huge warehouse. A new challenge arose: the designer in charge of core lighting programming was hospitalized with sudden appendicitis, and the complex lighting cues he had designed, which linked with the movement of the ice screens, were known only to him. With less than two months until the tour, replacing the designer temporarily was extremely high-risk.

When Alex arrived at the rehearsal venue, the atmosphere was somewhat tense. The tour director and production manager were fiercely discussing alternatives.

"Maybe we can simplify some of the lighting changes and prioritize ensuring the video content?" the production manager suggested.

"No, the visual integrity will be greatly compromised," the tour director opposed, "That's the highlight we've been promoting!"

Alex listened for a while, walked to the console, and pulled up the program file structure and notes left by the sick lighting designer. With the help of [Information Reception Filtering], he quickly browsed through the dense code comments and diagrams. He wasn't a programming expert, but he had an above-average grasp of the overall stage effect and rhythm (thanks to [Omnimedia Director Vision] and [Creative Master]).

"No need to replace anyone, and no need for major simplifications." Alex turned around and said to the team, "Contact the hospital, get the designer's consent, and let us remotely access his development environment backup. Marcus, you go coordinate with Organization D to see if they can send an engineer proficient in entertainment equipment programming. They don't need to recreate anything, just be able to debug and fine-tune under the designer's remote voice guidance, ensuring the system can run here. The costs will come from the contingency budget. At the same time, pay the sick guy double salary and cover all medical expenses."

Clear-headed and decisive, he preserved the core creativity while solving the humanitarian and team morale issues. Everyone immediately took action. Alex personally had a video call with the hospitalized designer, comforting him and clearly expressing how much he valued his work and how much he looked forward to his return. On the other end of the video, the pale designer's eyes turned red, and he repeatedly promised to fully cooperate with remote guidance.

The crisis was quickly transformed into a manageable technical problem through money, connections, and proper communication.

A few days later, good news came from the "sands of the return journey" documentary: it was successfully shortlisted for the U.S. Documentary Competition at the Sundance Film Festival. When the news arrived, the "Voice of Truth" platform and Alex's social media were jubilant. This was not only a recognition of the film's quality but also a great affirmation of Alex's investment vision and his stance on social concern. He immediately had Marcus arrange for increased promotion and planned to personally attend the film festival premiere to support the film. This approach of combining commercial success with social value further solidified his image as an "influential person with depth."

At night, in the newly purchased Brentwood residence (where soundproofing and rehearsal room renovations had already begun), in the master bedroom that was not yet fully furnished, Alex and Taylor lay on a mattress on a temporarily built platform. The white noise of the renovation work could be heard faintly, and the air smelled of new wood and paint.

"Today felt like three days passed at once." Taylor closed her eyes, her voice languid.

"Busy nesting, building dreams, and putting out fires." Alex smiled, his arm wrapped around her.

"But you handled it all." Taylor turned to face him, her fingers gently tracing his brow bone, "Sometimes I feel like you have an engine inside you that never stops, and the fuel is especially plentiful."

"Maybe I just know what I want." Alex held her hand and kissed her fingertips. What he didn't say was that part of that engine's fuel came from the ever-growing number in his mind, pointing toward transcendence, and the near-infinite anticipation and motivation that came with it.

He pulled up the system interface, concise and clear:

[Comprehensive Settlement (Property Purchase / Deep Film Participation / Crisis Management / Documentary Shortlisting)]

[Popularity Gained: + 2,880,000 points]

[Current Available Popularity: 14,060,030 points]

(Historical Cumulative: 34,060,030 points)

Alex closed the interface and smiled silently in the dark. Halfway there. This meant that while he was climbing new peaks in the secular world, that ladder belonging solely to him, transcending the mundane, had also covered exactly half the distance.

He tightened his arm and pulled Taylor into his embrace. Her breathing gradually became even.

Outside the window, the lights of Los Angeles were like an inverted galaxy. And beneath this galaxy, his nest was being built, his dreams were being sketched, and his kingdom was quietly taking shape.

Everything was just right.