206: Chapter 214 Vogue Special: A High-Stakes Gamble

Chen Mo watched as she recited his lyrics line by line, her voice kept very low and her pace fast, as if arguing with an opponent only she could see.

He said that song was co-written with Charlie, and it was about the friends who didn't make it this far.

Kendall Jenner's eyes were bright as she looked up at him and said, "I know. If you hadn't come today, maybe I would have been one of the people in that song too. But you came."

"You can always reach out to me first," Chen Mo said.

Kendall Jenner raised an eyebrow. "I never cling."

Chen Mo reached into his inner suit pocket and pulled out a private business card, a minimalist design he had printed himself.

On the white cardstock, there was only his name, phone number, and the address of his Los Angeles apartment.

He had learned this trick from Scorsese—it had style.

Kendall Jenner looked down at the white card, lightly touching its edge with her finger, and then raised her eyes to look at him.

"I know you still have an exclusive interview later, and Anna is waiting by the fireplace, but I want to confirm one thing. What does it mean that you're giving me this card tonight in New York?"

Chen Mo said calmly, "It means this is the first time I've given out my private card. No expiration date, a private address, and you can come by anytime."

"Are you sure?" Kendall Jenner asked uncertainly. "I'm a woman with more patience than anyone."

Chen Mo smiled at that and said, "I'm sure. I gave it of my own accord, but I don't like media hype."

Kendall Jenner put the card into her clutch and stood up. She reached out and gently tugged at the edge of his suit lapel, her movement slow, as if smoothing out a non-existent wrinkle.

"I know."

Kendall Jenner took a step back and turned toward the elevator, the hem of her dark emerald-green dress lightly brushing against the edge of the carpet.

Her fingers didn't immediately retract after leaving his collar; instead, they slid slowly down the edge of his lapel, finally letting go naturally at the point furthest from his arm.

The party's atmosphere didn't cool down at all after Kendall Jenner left. Instead, her departure drew more eyes to him standing by the French windows.

A few guests who had been watching from afar began to move toward him. He recognized some of their faces—all top figures in the fashion and entertainment industries.

The first to approach was Nicole Kidman, wearing a silver sequined gown with her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. In the dim light, she looked like a moving sculpture.

Holding a glass of champagne, she stopped in front of Chen Mo. She didn't speak immediately, but just looked at him for a few seconds before shaking her head and speaking in a tone somewhere between awe and helplessness.

"You're too dangerous when you smile like that. When Kendall Jenner walked out just now, she almost tripped over the threshold. She never stays long at parties, but she stayed a long time tonight."

Nicole threw her head back and finished the last sip of champagne in her glass, saying, "Next time my movie premieres, I'll invite you. I want the young actors in the crew to see what real screen presence is. You don't have to act that out; it shines on its own wherever you go."

Chen Mo finished his drink and said, "I'll go to the premiere, but I'll have to dress up in the white suit Kris made for me."

Nicole laughed out loud. "Then you'll steal all the movie's spotlight."

The second to come over was Charlize, wearing a black blazer over a white shirt, her short blonde hair tucked behind her ears, walking with an aura that practically said, 'Step aside, let me through.'

Once she stood still, she placed her champagne glass on a passing waiter's tray and said in South African-accented English, "I just made a bet with Tom. He said Givenchy's pants suit you better, while I think that Dior white suit is the best of recent years."

"Tell us, which pants' waistline actually makes you feel more comfortable?"

"The white suit was personally crafted by Kris, and I wore it to win a Grammy. It's best not to let Kris hear about your bet, or his competitors might receive a box of Givenchy return notices next season."

Charlize laughed heartily, her laughter cutting through the low conversations of several groups in the corner. "I take back my bet. The waistline of this white suit indeed wasn't just tailored; you brought it to life."

Tom raised his glass behind her and shouted a protest.

Without even turning her head, she just gave him a thumbs-up and picked up a freshly refilled glass from the nearby table.

Scarlett had been sitting on the sofa in the corner since the party started, never moving, and the whiskey glass in her hand was already empty.

Seeing Chen Mo break away from the crowd, she stood up and walked toward him. The burgundy red velvet haute couture gown she wore was as understated as her status in Hollywood.

She stopped in front of him. Without any small talk, she lowered her voice, sounding as if she were running lines on a film set: "Every time I think you can't surprise me anymore, you find a completely new way to leave me speechless."

"Last time it was the screen test on set, and this time it's Kendall Jenner walking to the elevator and still looking back at you."

Chen Mo clinked glasses with her, squinted with a smile, and said, "The lesson on set you taught me was very useful. I delivered a perfect performance at the Grammy Awards."

Scarlett placed the empty whiskey glass back on the table, the bottom of the glass making a very soft clinking sound against the glass tabletop.

"You were the one who taught me that day. Back then, you accepted the acting coach's card I gave you. Tonight, I want to take those words back—you're not a singer who needs to learn how to act; you're the kind of person who makes directors rewrite their scripts."

After a moment, Anna finished her conversation with Ive and walked over to Chen Mo.

"You have the face of Alain Delon, but you don't rely on it. You have the talent of Bob Dylan, but you don't rely on that either. Just now, Nicole said you look dangerous when you smile, Charlize made a bet with Tom over your waistline, and Scarlett said you are the most authentic person she's ever seen—"

"The awards these people have won combined could form a line stretching from here across New York Harbor, yet none of them were merely attracted to you—they were inspired by you. What do you plan to do next?"

Chen Mo narrowed his eyes and said, "Do a hundred of the least commercial concert tours, to make everyone who comes feel that I am worth it."

Anna was silent for a long moment, then took a card out of her pocket. It was a preview page for the Vogue special issue, printed with "Chen Mo: The Sound of Silence."

"This is next month's special issue cover. It's the first time a musician will solely occupy the Met Gala special edition. In the past, this spot was only given to designers with the highest honors in the fashion world."

She flipped the card over. On the back was a line in her own handwriting: "To Chen, who speaks the loudest when he says nothing."

Anna put the card back into the envelope she had brought and slid it in front of him.

"The moment of silence right after Kendall Jenner left, with the firelight from the fireplace reflecting on your profile—that frame was captured by the photographer and has already been sent to Vogue's photo editor."

Anna gave him a helpless glare and said, "Clearly, you didn't come to attend a party; you came to rewrite the rules."

Chen Mo put the card into his pocket and looked up, realizing the firelight from the fireplace happened to shine right on his left shoulder.

The photographer had approached unnoticed, the viewfinder already aimed at this angle. He didn't look at it deliberately, but just gave a natural, slight nod forward.

He offered his most sincere response to the magazine's editor-in-chief, who was still by his side late into the night.

"What about the exclusive interview you mentioned?" Chen Mo asked suddenly.

Anna gathered the hem of her silver sequined skirt, as if sending a thank-you so light it was almost imperceptible.

She walked slowly toward the foyer, her black sunglasses already pushed up to her forehead. Those blue eyes, feared by countless designers, held nothing but admiration at this moment.

"It's done."

The gamble she had laid out under the Met Gala special issue was now left to the giant screens in Times Square outside the window, which were about to light up again.

Just now, he had accepted everyone's expectations with one hand, while his other hand remained in his pocket.

Though he hadn't moved yet, he had already set off.

The exclusive interview was published in the Vogue special issue the following month, with a title of only a few words—

"Chen Mo: The Sound of Silence."

A line from the article was later quoted repeatedly: "Silence is more powerful than sound, because in silence, you can only hear yourself."