Chapter Fifty-One: The Two Fat Men

As one of Hong Kong’s most luxurious five-star hotels, the Marco Polo Hotel occupies what can only be described as a prime location in the city. Built in 1967, it rises above the Tsim Sha Tsui waterfront in Kowloon, offering sweeping views of Victoria Harbour. The hotel stands at the heart of Tsim Sha Tsui’s business, shopping, and entertainment district, with convenient access to countless attractions—Kowloon Park, the Cultural Centre, and the Hong Kong Museum of History are all close at hand.

It was here that the entertainment industry's New Year gathering was being held, with all five of the hotel’s banquet halls and the outdoor swimming pool reserved for the event—enough space to accommodate at least five hundred guests.

This was Yan Xu’s first time attending such a grand gathering. The ballroom glittered with dazzling lights, and the long buffet table stretched dozens of meters, laden with every variety of food and fruit imaginable, more than enough to satisfy the diverse tastes of the guests.

The moment Yan Xu entered, he spotted many familiar faces—some he knew by name, others he did not. Tonight, the venue was a convergence of stars from film, television, music, and fashion: superstars whose fame shone like the noonday sun, newcomers just beginning to make their mark, seasoned veterans from the entertainment circle, and countless third- and fourth-tier actors whose faces were merely familiar. There were also high-ranking executives and bosses from various fields, along with a number of rarely seen behind-the-scenes figures.

It was, in every sense, a gathering of beautiful men and women—at least half the guests belonged to that category. It was the perfect occasion for women to display and compare their charms; the female celebrities vied to outshine one another by every means, and even the less attractive male stars and company executives had gorgeous women on their arms—girlfriends, perhaps, or lovers—each one strikingly beautiful and adorned with jewels.

With no close friends present—Zhou Huimin was absent due to work, and there was no sign of Sammo Hung or Alan Tam, who, being major celebrities, would only arrive much later—Yan Xu wandered alone by the buffet table, sampling delicacies while admiring the beauty in the room.

Since it was still early, none of the most famous stars had arrived. The guests for now were mostly small company bosses, aspiring actors and models seeking their breakthrough, and a number of industry veterans and fading stars. The latter, unlike the young hopefuls who mingled in search of opportunity and were not above leaving their room numbers with the right contacts, had come early simply to catch up with old friends.

There was Chen Ping, and there was Lin Eva—amid the crowd, Yan Xu even recognized a few former Shaw Brothers actresses, once-famous sirens of the silver screen who frequently appeared in Li Hanxiang’s films, and whom Yan Xu had admired in his youth. Though they remained striking, their beauty now matured, they had all but vanished from the screen.

“How is it? Isn’t it a sea of beauties?” A sudden voice spoke up beside Yan Xu just as his gaze was surreptitiously sweeping over the women.

He turned quickly and found a chubby man standing beside him, holding a tray piled high with food. The man was busily eating while his eyes, bold and undisguised, roved openly over the women in the room, far less subtle than Yan Xu’s own glances.

“I never expected there would be so many beautiful women,” Yan Xu replied, recognizing a kindred spirit in the chubby man and seeing no need for pretense.

“The quality this year is better than last—lots of fresh young faces. This must be your first time at one of these parties,” the man said, his eyes never leaving the women.

“How did you know?” Yan Xu asked, becoming intrigued by his unremarkable-looking companion, who clearly belonged to the inner circles if he was attending this event.

“People who come to these parties all the time don’t go sneaking peeks at the girls like you do,” the man replied, sizing Yan Xu up. “Let me give you a tip: if you want to look, don’t be so sneaky about it. You look like a thief—it comes off as creepy. If you’re going to look, do it openly. We’re here to appreciate beauty, after all. See them with admiration—these girls dress up like this precisely to attract attention. The more openly you look, the less they’ll mind—in fact, it gives them confidence.”

As he spoke, his gaze settled boldly on a girl in a tight red dress, lingering from her lovely face over her ample chest down to her shapely hips. Far from being offended, the girl caught his eye, nodded slightly, and gave him a faint smile, even swaying her hips just a touch as if on display.

“Impressive, truly impressive!” Yan Xu gave a thumbs up, amazed that one could so brazenly admire women here—on the street, such staring would get you called a pervert.

“That’s nothing,” the chubby man replied, shaking his head, though a hint of pride crept into his expression.

“The way I see it, men looking at women is only natural. If you don’t even spare a glance at a beautiful woman, there’s something wrong with your heart or your body. Sneaking peeks only leads to awkwardness if you’re caught—better to just appreciate beauty openly. For men, beautiful women are the objects of desire and perfect love, inspiring dreams of the ideal companion. That, in turn, motivates men to strive for more, indirectly driving social progress. Besides, seeing beauties lifts the spirit, and being around them quickens the pulse, improves circulation, and keeps you young. And beauty isn’t just for men—women see beautiful women as inspiration and role models, which also drives the fashion industry forward.”

He spoke with the ease of an old hand, expounding on the topic with gusto.

“When it comes to beautiful women, we should look with appreciation—admire without lust. Of course, if you have a chance to study them more closely, all the better.”

“Brilliant, truly brilliant,” Yan Xu exclaimed, nearly applauding if not for the setting. The chubby man had elevated the essence of masculine appreciation of beauty to a matter of social significance.

“Hey, Fat Nan, there you go again, passing off other people’s theories as your own,” interrupted another voice before the chubby man could respond. A short, bespectacled man approached from nearby, took a plate from the buffet, and helped himself to some chocolate cake.

“Fat Wang, you always show up at the crucial moment to disrupt things,” Fat Nan grumbled, though there was more jest than annoyance in his tone, his response to the interruption betraying easy camaraderie.

“If my dad hadn’t called me, I’d have been here ages ago,” Fat Wang replied, his mouth full of cake and his words barely intelligible. “With so many beautiful women to see, I wouldn’t dream of missing this.”