25: Chapter 25 The Dinner: Probing and New Sparks of Inspiration

Before heading to the dinner party in Beverly Hills, Alex put some thought into his attire.

He didn't choose the most formal black suit, but instead wore a custom-tailored dark navy casual suit with a textured light gray cashmere sweater underneath, sans tie—understated, yet with details that exuded taste everywhere.

It met the requirement for an "informal dinner party" without making him appear out of place before those well-traveled celebrities.

Watson's mansion was situated on the hillside, with a secluded driveway.

The door was opened by a well-dressed middle-aged housekeeper with a standard smile, who led him to a massive terrace overlooking the dazzling night view of Los Angeles.

The dinner party was indeed "small"; counting Alex, there were only seven or eight guests.

The host, Richard Watson, was around sixty, his silver hair groomed meticulously, his demeanor elegant and possessing the composure of someone long accustomed to being in a position of power.

He personally introduced Alex to the guests present: one was a partner at a Silicon Valley venture capital fund with a keen interest in "immersive experiences"; one was a senior curator at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art; one was an independent film producer specializing in niche art-house films; and there was a couple, the husband a well-known architect and the wife a bestselling author.

There were no entertainment celebrities, only "rainmakers" who held real power or influence in their respective fields.

At first, the conversation revolved around macroeconomics and the latest technological trends. Alex mostly listened, only occasionally offering concise and to-the-point opinions when the topic touched on content creation and visual communication, always from a novel and pragmatic perspective.

The steady demeanor brought by his Mental Pillar and the precise grasp of the nuances in the conversation granted by his Perception Sharpening allowed him to remain composed even in this circle, displaying a calmness that belied his age.

That venture capital partner, named Carl, soon noticed him: "Alex, Watson speaks highly of you. I've seen some of your work; the technical concept of 'Data Rift' is very cutting-edge, but that recent short video of yours that made public facilities 'come alive' had astonishing reach. How do you view the balance between... well, 'high-end technical expression' and 'mass entertainment content'? For your personal brand, is there a contradiction in positioning?"

The question was a bit sharp, representing the typical scrutiny that "influencers" face in these high-end circles.

Alex set down his water glass, his tone peaceful: "Mr. Carl, I don't think it's a contradiction; it's more like two ends of a spectrum. Technical expression explores possibilities and expands boundaries; mass entertainment content tests resonance and connects with the widest possible audience. Just like an architect who needs to design museums but also plan comfortable residential areas, both serve different needs, but the core is 'solving problems' and 'creating value.' My channel is called 'Wonder World'; this world should have both breathtaking wonders and corners that make people smile. Brand positioning isn't about locking yourself into a label, but ensuring that whatever you do, it carries a unified sense of 'curiosity' and 'sincerity.'"

He paused, then added: "Besides, popular success can sometimes provide nutrients and attention for more experimental projects. For example, many people who came for the funny videos might develop a curiosity for quieter works like 'echo gallery.' Even if it's just clicking to take a look, it's a potential expansion of their aesthetic."

This answer was both pragmatic and broad-minded, and it implicitly showed an understanding of the content distribution ecosystem. The curator nodded slightly, and the producer wore an expression of interest.

The dinner party continued with light yet profound conversation. Mr. Watson spent most of the time guiding the topics, but occasionally cast a discerning glance at Alex, clearly observing his responses.

During dessert, the topic turned to art funding and supporting young artists. The architect suddenly asked Alex: "Mr. Su, if you received an unrestricted (theoretically, of course) grant to create a work related to urban public space, without considering commercial returns, what would you want to do?"

This question was more like a mind game, testing the boundaries of imagination.

Alex thought for a moment, not immediately throwing out a grand technological art proposal, but instead saying: "I might want to create a series of 'Urban Memory Patches.'"

Seeing the slightly puzzled looks from the group, he explained, "Choose some small, overlooked locations that carry collective memory but are disappearing or forgotten—like the old traces of hopscotch grids drawn by children in an alley, the original site of a newspaper stand that vanished from an old neighborhood, or a street corner where an old tree once grew. Use 'subtle' methods—like special light projections (visible only at specific times and angles), tiny sound installations (where one can only hear ambient samples of the past by getting close), or memorial inlays that blend into the ground—to mark and 'repair' these fractures in memory. It wouldn't be spectacular; it might even be ignored by many, but for those who remember, or for passersby who happen to discover it, it could be a small, warm 'echo.'"

This idea wasn't about showing off, but was full of human warmth and a unique observational perspective. The writer was the first to express appreciation: "Very poetic, and very tender. It's a bit like writing a city diary using visual means."

Mr. Watson finally revealed a more obvious smile and raised his glass to Alex: "A very unique perspective, Alex. Remember this idea; perhaps one day, we will truly see your 'Memory Patches' in some corner."

The dinner party ended in a friendly atmosphere. Mr. Watson personally saw Alex to the door, his handshake firm: "I'm very glad you could come tonight, Alex. Keep up your creative rhythm and thinking. My assistant, Emma, will stay in touch with you; perhaps there are some small projects in the future we can discuss together."

"Thank you for the invitation and hospitality, Mr. Watson. I've benefited greatly from tonight." Alex's attitude was respectful and sincere.

Driving down the mountain back to Santa Monica, the evening breeze was cool. This dinner party, rather than expanding his network (those big shots wouldn't have direct cooperation with him in the short term), was more like passing an important "stress test" and "impression management exam." He left an impression in that circle of being "thoughtful, grounded, balanced, and full of potential," and that was enough. Mr. Watson's final comment, "stay in touch," was the real gain.

Back home, it was nearly midnight. He took off his suit and changed into comfortable clothes. The system interface appeared automatically; his popularity had seen another solid increase due to the continued viral success of 'Public Facilities Can't Think Straight' and the potential high-level attention from the dinner party. However, the dark gold Core Influence value remained steadily at 43, unmoving. It seemed that recognition in such social settings was not enough to trigger deeper mechanisms of the system.

He wasn't disappointed. Real Core Influence had to be earned through hardcore works like 'echo gallery.'

While showering, the hot water washed away his fatigue. The architect's question at the dinner party about "Urban Memory Patches" lingered in his mind. A spark of inspiration suddenly burst forth—not to use it for serious public art, but to turn it into a lighthearted and interesting YouTube video series!

It could be called 'Los Angeles Lost and Found.' For each video, he would find a small, storied place in Los Angeles that was disappearing or already gone (like a closed old record store, the former site of an iconic street basketball hoop that had been demolished, or a street that had been renamed), and by interviewing old residents and digging up old video footage, he would recreate its story and atmosphere. Then, he could use his signature visual means (like conducting a small, fitting AR display at that location, or filming an emotional visual short) to create an "online memorial," finally calling on viewers to share their own memories of this place or other vanished locations in the comments section.

This both continued his interest in the city and memory (sharing the same core as 'echo gallery') and was more grounded and interactive than pure art shorts, capable of triggering strong resonance among local viewers. It could be done lightly and movingly, or interestingly and nostalgically, with high flexibility.

"This is doable!" Alex walked out of the bathroom, drying his hair, and immediately wrote down the idea in his notebook. For the first topic of the series, he almost immediately had a target: over by Venice Beach, there seemed to be an old-fashioned ice cream parlor he used to visit as a child (from the original owner's memories) that sold quirky ice cream and soda, which he heard had closed a couple of years ago. That's the place!

He felt recharged. The high-end dinner party had broadened his horizons and possibilities, while the new video inspiration pulled him back to the realistic soil full of creative impulse. This state of freely switching between viewing from the heights and tilling the ground made him feel incredibly fulfilled.

Lying in bed, he remembered what the venture capitalist Carl had said to him privately at the end of the dinner: "Young man, there is a rare kind of 'clarity' about you. You know what you want, and you know the rules of the game. Keep it up; this industry doesn't lack geniuses, what it lacks are geniuses who can go the distance."

Clarity? Perhaps. He just had one more lifetime than others, one more system, and was more aware of the preciousness of time and the steepness of the path ahead.

Outside the window, the city was still sleepless. And in Alex's "Wonder World," a new, warm, and interactive section was quietly lighting up on the blueprint.