Courtyard Houses: From Bronze Compasses to Global Reach

Chapter 279 Immersive Gossip

Tom and Mike stared in disbelief at the scene, then turned to Lin Yan in unison.

"Lin...who exactly are you?" Tom murmured.

Lin Yan's eyes lit up as he listened, his earlier feigned profundity instantly vanishing. He leaned closer to the two men, his face filled with pure curiosity: "Quick, tell me in detail! What's the story behind the pianist marrying his 13-year-old cousin? And that Miss Bergman, she seemed quite dignified, what's the story behind her having an affair?"

When Tom and Mike saw Lin Yan's seemingly "unlearned" but humble attitude, they immediately perked up and eagerly took on the role of his entertainment encyclopedia.

Tom pointed first, pointing to the figure playing the piano:

"Look at that! Jerry Lee Lewis, the rock 'n' roll maniac! Two years ago, he was touring in the UK, and then the media revealed that his third wife was his 13-year-old cousin, Myra Gale! My God, the whole audience was in uproar, and he was booed off the stage! Now, hardly any reputable radio stations dare to play his songs!"

Mike immediately chimed in, gesturing with his chin to the elegant Swedish actress in the distance:

"Over there, Ingrid Bergman! Hollywood's 'pure goddess'! And guess what? She abandoned her husband and children for Italian director Roberto Rossellini, and even had his child before their divorce! The newspapers called it a 'scandal of the century,' and Hollywood blacklisted her, she didn't get any roles for years!"

Tom, as if discovering a new continent, lowered his voice and pointed to another table:

"And over there, see Lana Turner drinking with the producer? Her daughter stabbed her mobster boyfriend, Johnny Stormpanato, to death last year! Right in their kitchen! The whole town's tabloids are going crazy!"

Mike, not to be outdone, added the most explosive point:

"The most amazing one is that Rock Hudson," he gestured to Lin Yan to look at the handsome actor chatting happily with Doris Day, "Women all over the world want to marry him, they think he's the perfect gentleman. But everyone in the industry knows... he actually only likes men. To protect his image, the company forces him to pretend to date female stars, like right now!"

Lin Yan was stunned, feeling as if his worldview had been repeatedly crushed and rubbed into the ground. He muttered to himself, "This industry... is really chaotic." This was far more exciting than comprehending the essence of wind and thunder or manipulating the global financial market.

Ethan, who had been watching like a shadow, listened to the boys' enthusiastic discussion with a calm expression, though his lips twitched occasionally. He refilled the drinks of the three "gossip researchers" as needed, ensuring their "academic discussion" could proceed smoothly.

Lin Yan gulped down his drink to calm himself, thinking to himself, "Even after I reached the Nascent Soul stage, I probably still wouldn't understand the complexity of these people. This is a great place; the food is plentiful and filling, and the ladies are beautiful—a feast for the eyes! Worth coming here often!"

Lin Yan's gaze shifted to the striking red velvet rope at the entrance. A young tycoon in the latest Dior suit attempted to barge in, but was politely but firmly stopped by a bodyguard who asked him to "wait a moment." Almost simultaneously, an elderly man with gray hair and a cane slowly approached. He didn't even stop; he merely nodded slightly to the bodyguard, and the red rope rose as if on command.

"What's the meaning of that rope?" Lin Yan asked Ethan curiously, tilting his head. "It doesn't seem to be about money."

Ethan stepped forward and explained in a voice only they could hear: "Young master sees things clearly. In El Morocco, the Velvet Rope measures 'qualification,' not just wealth. It's a set of silent rules."

He continued in a low voice, "The one who was stopped earlier was the heir to a newly emerging tobacco company. He was wealthy enough, but his 'qualification' had not yet been recognized by the club's inner circle. As for the newspaper tycoon William Randolph Hearst who went in directly, he represented not only wealth, but also influence and power that had lasted for generations."

"Simply put," Ethan summarized, "this is the entrance to New York's top social pyramid. Wealth can get you noticed, but the inherited power, social prestige, or cultural influence behind your name is the direct code to entry. That rope is the line that separates the inside from the outside."

Tom and Mike didn't quite understand, but they were deeply moved.

Lin Yan suddenly realized, and chuckled, "So that's how it is. This isn't a red string at all, it's clearly a hierarchy of contempt! It forces people into different classes! Tsk, how pointless!"

Just as they were whispering among themselves, Tom suddenly nudged Lin Yan with his elbow, gesturing to a secluded corner deep inside the club, partially hidden by potted plants.

"Look over there," Tom whispered, "that photographer led the old man who was standing very close to the female secretary away."

The three looked over curiously and saw the slightly embarrassed financial tycoon—whom Ethan whispered was the well-known Harrison Morgan of Wall Street—being led to a small, private round table. They couldn't hear the specifics of the conversation, but they could see Zerbe maintaining a professional smile, while a fleeting look of displeasure crossed Mr. Morgan's face before he reverted to his usual arrogance. He expressionlessly pulled out his checkbook, quickly signed a check, and pushed it over. Zerbe took the check, nodded with satisfaction, and then, right in front of him, pulled out the crucial negative from his camera and exposed it directly to the light, rendering it invalid.

"What...what are they doing?" Mike was completely bewildered. "Are they making a deal?"

Ethan, who was standing to the side, leaned slightly forward and explained to the three boys in his usual calm voice: "That place is called 'Atonement Corner.' That gentleman just donated a sum of money to a 'charity' in exchange for... well, the destruction of the negatives. It's a custom to maintain decorum."

"Standard practice?" Lin Yan repeated the word, smiling sarcastically.

"Ethan's words are too euphemistic. Do you understand? Here, shamelessness and corruption are the norm, and money is their indulgence."

He pointed to Mr. Morgan, who had just completed the "deal" and was now back on the dance floor with his mistress.

"They're not afraid of scandals at all; what they're afraid of are scandals that can't be covered up with money. The existence of this 'atonement corner' gives them a license to do whatever they want—as long as they can afford the price afterward, any moral stain can be left here as if it never happened. That's why you see, they can be so 'open' here, because for them, it's just a deal where all the prices are open and transparent, and it couldn't be more cost-effective."

Tom and Mike fell completely silent. The underlying rules upon which this seemingly elegant club operated were so blatantly naked. Tonight had given them a real lesson in society, causing them to lose all fascination with the wealthy.