40: A battle of wits and undercurrents

Taylor's warm arm tightly linked with Lin Feng's, leading him away from the loneliness by the window and pulling him toward the true center of the party's vortex.

The unique scent of vanilla on her body was like an invisible net, enveloping him.

"Let's go, my mr. artist."

Taylor's voice carried the joy of a victor.

"I'll take you to meet a few boring friends."

Her red lips drew close to Lin Feng's ear, her breath warm.

"They're all incredibly curious about you."

Lin Feng followed her lead, but his gaze involuntarily glanced back at the corner where Scarlett Johansson had disappeared.

That woman was like a glass of mellow whiskey, with a powerful aftertaste.

Soon, Taylor led him to a small circle of middle-aged men.

One man, with meticulously combed white hair and gold-rimmed glasses, was Hans, a star producer for Universal Music.

Another, with a receding hairline but sharp eyes, was James, an up-and-coming director for Paramount Pictures.

"Everyone, let me introduce you."

Taylor's voice caught everyone's attention.

"This is the one I mentioned to you, Lin Feng."

Hans's gaze lingered on Lin Feng for a moment, carrying a professional scrutiny.

"The Lakers' eastern magician? He looks even more upright than on TV."

Director James was more direct, his eyes seemingly assessing the value of a commodity.

"Mr. Lin, with your looks, even if you didn't play basketball, there would definitely be a place for you in Hollywood."

Lin Feng smiled, showing no sign of being flattered by the compliment.

He raised his glass, gesturing to the group.

"You flatter me, Director. I'm just an athlete, used to running on the court."

He paused, turning his gaze toward the producer, Hans.

"However, I've always felt that a thrilling basketball game and a classic song have something in common."

Hans became interested: "Oh? How so?"

"Rhythm."

Lin Feng uttered a single word.

"From the opening feelers to the deadlock in the middle, and finally to the climax of a game-winning shot. All these transitions require a perfect rhythm to control. Just like a song, from the buildup of the intro to the narrative of the verse, and then the emotional explosion of the chorus."

These words left both Hans and James momentarily stunned.

They had thought he was just a simple-minded athlete, never expecting such insight in his conversation.

The look of pride on Taylor's face deepened.

This was exactly what she wanted everyone to see: the man she chose was by no means ordinary.

Just as the atmosphere was becoming harmonious, a discordant voice cut in.

"Yo, isn't this our big pop star Taylor? Found a new 'inspiration' again?"

A young man wearing a flashy silk shirt with a low-cut neckline walked over.

He was handsome, but his eyes carried a sense of flippancy and arrogance.

Ryan Collins, a B-list Hollywood actor whose primary claim to fame was his scandals with various divas and supermodels, and one of Taylor's rumored ex-boyfriends.

He ignored the others, his gaze locking directly onto Lin Feng, filled with undisguised hostility and disdain.

"Hey, athlete."

A contemptuous curve tugged at the corner of Ryan's mouth.

"The drinks here might be more expensive than your entire year's salary."

"Don't get drunk and end up unable to pay the bill, making Taylor lose face."

As the words fell, the surroundings instantly went silent.

Even the flowing music seemed to have been muted.

Everyone's eyes focused here, filled with the amusement of watching a spectacle.

The smile on Taylor's face vanished instantly, her blue eyes turning icy cold.

Her arm around Lin Feng's tightened subconsciously.

She was about to speak, ready to tear this clueless ex to shreds with the harshest words.

A warm palm gently covered the back of her hand.

Lin Feng shook his head at her, signaling that she didn't need to speak.

He turned to face the provocative Ryan, a polite smile even lingering on his face.

"Thank you for the reminder."

His voice wasn't loud, yet it clearly reached everyone's ears.

"However, my profession has taught me one thing."

Lin Feng raised his champagne glass and gave it a slight shake toward Ryan.

"The value of a thing doesn't lie in how expensive its price tag is."

"But in whether it can help you 'score' at a critical moment."

He looked at Ryan, whose expression was starting to change, and his smile became meaningful.

"Whether it's on the court or at the box office, right?"

"Pfft—"

Taylor couldn't hold it back any longer and burst out laughing.

This laugh was like a signal.

Within the surrounding crowd, suppressed chuckles followed one after another.

Who didn't know that Ryan Collins's last starring role had been a box office disaster where the investors lost everything, and the media mocked him as "box office poison"?

Lin Feng's words seemed to be about basketball, but in reality, they were like a precise scalpel, cutting open Ryan's most embarrassing scar and sprinkling a handful of salt on it for good measure.

Talk about a low blow!

Ryan's face instantly turned the color of a pig's liver.

Failing to humiliate with money, he instead had his "box office poison" facade stripped away in public.

He felt the eyes of everyone in the room pricking him like needles.

"You..."

He pointed at Lin Feng, trembling with rage, but couldn't utter a single word.

The smile on Taylor's face faded, replaced by a queen-like indifference.

She took a step forward, shielding Lin Feng.

"Ryan, I think your social duties for tonight are over."

"Now, you can leave."

Her voice carried no emotion, as if she were shooing away an annoying fly.

Slapped in the face publicly, Ryan's last shred of dignity was crushed under Taylor's icy gaze.

He gave Lin Feng a venomous glare, as if to etch his image into his heart.

Then, he turned tail and fled, squeezing through the crowd in embarrassment under the mocking gazes of the onlookers.

The minor disturbance thus subsided.

But the way everyone at the party looked at Lin Feng had completely changed.

This eastern man not only had the looks that captivated Taylor but also possessed such a sharp, composed mind and eloquence.

He was no mere pretty plaything dependent on a queen.

He had his own claws.

Taylor turned around, her blue eyes strikingly bright, filled with admiration and surprise.

"You always manage to surprise me, mr. artist."

She linked her arm with Lin Feng's again, her posture even more intimate this time.

"Come on, let me take you to see a true 'work of art'."

Her tone carried a hint of showing off as she pulled Lin Feng along, taking the initiative to weave through the crowd toward the lounge area on the other side of the party.

There, by a white marble pillar, Scarlett Johansson was leaning lazily.

She seemed to have been watching everything that just happened with great interest, the smile on her lips not yet faded.

Taylor stopped in front of Scarlett.

The gazes of two women, both standing at the pinnacle of the vanity fair, collided silently in the air.

"Scarlett."

Taylor spoke first, her voice sweet but carrying a sense of staking her claim.

"Let me introduce you to Lin Feng."

She emphasized her words pointedly.

"A true artist."

Scarlett's gaze swept over Taylor's arm linked with Lin Feng's before slowly rising to settle on Lin Feng's face.

Ignoring the sharp edge in Taylor's words, she reached out her fair hand to Lin Feng.

"Hello, Lin."

Her voice had a unique raspy quality, sexy and enchanting.

Lin Feng naturally released Taylor's arm and shook Scarlett's outstretched hand.

Her hand was very soft, carrying a hint of the liquor's chill.

Scarlett's gaze sized him up without reservation, and finally, her red lips curled into a playful arc.

"I watched your game against the Los Angeles Clippers."

"That last ball... the pass was very sexy."