29: Chapter 29 Official Announcement

Chen Mo said with feigned distress, "I am wondering, how should I subtly show off such an artistic car?"

Thomas's German-style smile cracked a little.

A few days later, the news of the three major endorsements was released on the same day.

The promotional image for Dior's official announcement was a side profile of Chen Mo in the recording studio. The red and green indicator lights of the mixing console were reflected on his face, half-lit and half-shadowed, as if he were standing on the edge of a spotlight.

The caption read: True style does not need to be loud. Chen Mo, Global Brand Ambassador for Dior Men's Wear and Fragrance.

The promotional image for Cartier's official announcement was a close-up of Chen Mo's left wrist—the Santos watch was worn on his wrist, with the strap fastened exactly at the third hole, and the black Roman numeral hour markers on the dial were juxtaposed with a pen held between his fingers.

The caption consisted of only one line: Time will choose those who are worthy.

The promotional image for the Mercedes-Benz announcement was the customized CLA parked under the streetlights of Los Angeles at dusk. Chen Mo was leaning against the car door, not looking at the camera, but looking into the distance.

The caption read: A person who never stops is worthy of a car that never stops.

Within twenty-four hours of the three official announcements, Chen Mo's fans worldwide fell into a frenzy.

An English comment was liked 200,000 times: "He is not the person who wears Dior; he is the person who makes Dior want to make clothes for him."

The most popular comment under the Mercedes-Benz announcement was a photoshopped image where netizens had added a line of text to the door of the customized CLA: "Lawn Mower".

Chen Mo read these comments one by one, then exited Instagram and opened his phone.

He typed a few words, finalized the final version of "Flowers," and sent it to Scott.

His phone vibrated; it was a call from Scott.

"Three major endorsements, global announcements—do you know what today's entertainment headlines are?"

Chen Mo replied indifferently, "I haven't looked yet."

"The New York Times published a review titled 'Why are luxury brands willing to break century-old rules for a Chinese person?'"

"Then they interviewed the creative director of Dior, the CEO of Cartier, and the North American president of Mercedes-Benz. The answers of all three were highly consistent."

Chen Mo asked with some curiosity, "What did they say?"

Scott sent three screenshots.

The creative director of Dior said, "Chen Mo is the person we have met who needs brands the least. Precisely because of this, we need him the most."

The CEO of Cartier said, "Cartier made the first wristwatch for Alberto Santos-Dumont in 1904 because he needed to keep track of time while flying. In 2015, we put a Santos on Chen Mo because he let the world see another speed of time."

Thomas, the North American president of Mercedes-Benz, said a long paragraph, but Scott only screenshotted the last sentence.

"The customized CLA we gave him, he drove it for a lap and said this car is art. At that moment, I knew we had chosen the right person."

What is this called?

Well, it is called "After entering the pass, there will be great Confucian scholars to debate the scriptures for me!"

The day before Valentine's Day.

A black nanny van drove out of the neighborhood where The Cooper Home was located. The car windows were covered with dark film, blocking the prying eyes from the outside.

Chen Mo sat in the back row, watching the streetscape flying by outside the window, his fingers unconsciously tapping the drum beat of "Timber" on his knees.

"Nervous?" Daniel sat in the passenger seat, observing him through the rearview mirror.

"No." Chen Mo turned his head, his amber pupils shining startlingly in the dim carriage, "I am wondering if the stage is explosive enough."

Daniel was stunned for a moment, then laughed, "You finally got it. Bring out your real skills; that old fox Simon is using you as a trump card this time."

Two days ago, Scott received a call from Simon, who hoped that Chen Mo could appear on stage as a surprise guest tonight—

"These kids have walked all the way to the finals. Some people have started to think they are already superstars. They need to see what a real superstar looks like."

The car drove into the backstage passage of the Pasadena Civic Auditorium.

Several stagehands busy moving props saw the car stop and immediately stopped what they were doing, standing respectfully to the side.

The car door opened.

Chen Mo was dressed very simply today: a deep V-neck black shirt, with a black leather jacket worn over it.

Daniel tutted, "Even standing backstage among all sorts of people, you have an aristocratic temperament. Are you really Chinese?"

Chen Mo said helplessly, "What can I do? I just look like this."

"Chen Mo!" An executive director wearing an earpiece rushed over, his face beaming with smiles, "Welcome, welcome! Simon is waiting for you in the judges' lounge. The dressing room is already prepared. Do you want to touch up your makeup first?"

"No need." Chen Mo took off his leather jacket and tossed it to Daniel, "Take me straight to see Simon."

The judges' lounge.

Simon was facing the mirror, tidying up his few sparse hairs.

"The door isn't locked, come in." Simon didn't turn his head, his voice very cold.

When Chen Mo walked into Simon's lounge, he was leaning on the sofa, flipping through the schedule for tonight.

He stood up and shook Chen Mo's hand, a faint smile on the corner of his mouth that only a veteran producer would have: "Your appearance is scheduled before the announcement of the champion. Let them finish competing, and then, when everyone thinks tonight is over—"

"You come out. You don't need any buildup. Just sing one of your songs and let them see what it means to be 'not at the finish line yet.'"

Chen Mo took the schedule from his hand, glanced at it, and then placed it on the coffee table: "Got it."

Simon stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly grinned and said, "I like your style. There are a few losers who sang so badly I wanted to gouge out my ears. I had intended to leave early tonight, but since you are here, I will reluctantly watch it to the end."

"I will make your overtime pay tonight worth it," Chen Mo said with a smile.

"It better be," Simon lowered his voice, "Remember, don't do that deep stuff from your Grammy Awards. This is American Idol, not Vienna."

"The people here like explosive, they like crazy, they like things that can blow the roof off. If you dare to play 'Stay' on stage, I will throw you off right then and there."

Chen Mo said, "Don't worry."

The stage for the final performance was designed as a huge circular theater. The three resident judges—Jennifer, Keith, and Little Harry—sat in the judges' seats.

The auditorium was filled with fans who had flown in from all over the United States.

Chen Mo did not return to the dressing room but let Daniel lead him to stand quietly in the shadows of the side curtains.

Looking down from here, the entire auditorium was packed, with thousands of audience members holding glow sticks, like a restless sea of stars.

The program proceeded according to the schedule. Nick went on stage first and sang a rock song he was good at.

Chen Mo stood behind the side stage curtains, his fingers tapping lightly on his leg.

Daniel whispered beside him, "This young man has won from the auditions all the way to now. Today his state is particularly relaxed; he is steadier than usual."

Immediately after, Clark went on stage. His voice was bright and penetrating, and when he sang the highest note of the chorus, the whole audience stood up and applauded.

On stage, the last finalist was singing her heart out.

It was a Black girl. Her singing skills were good, but her stage presence was as restrained as if she were in church attending a service.

"Too tight," Chen Mo commented in a low voice, crossing his arms, "She is afraid of making mistakes, so she dares not move. The audience cannot see her soul."

"That girl is named Jessica, and she is a favorite to win," Daniel said in a low voice nearby, "But Simon just pressed the red light off-stage and said she is like a robot."

Chen Mo didn't speak, just watched quietly.