Hong Kong variety show: The mastermind behind the scenes is emerging.

As October arrived, a chill began to creep into the air in London.

On the tarmac at Heathrow Airport, the wind blew in from the direction of the Thames Estuary, carrying with it a damp and cool air typical of autumn and winter.

At 3 p.m., two private jets taxied into their designated positions one after the other—in front was a sleek, silver-white Gulfstream with the Lu family’s dazzling emblem on its tail; behind was a massive, dark blue Boeing business jet with the Morgan Group’s logo printed on its fuselage.

The gangway pulled up, and the cabin door opened. Lu Chen, wearing a coat, walked down the gangway, followed by Tian Yangsheng and Ba Wanghua; on the other side, Victor Morgan also disembarked with two attendants.

The two met on the tarmac, shook hands familiarly, and smiled at each other.

"The Gulfstream is indeed quite good," Victor said, glancing up at the silver-white bird with a hint of teasing. "But I still recommend you buy a Boeing; that's the jewel of modern industry."

Lu Chen smiled and did not directly refute.

While Boeing is currently at its zenith and enjoying unparalleled success, how could this time traveler not be aware of the absurd and disastrous management and quality practices that Boeing has faced in the future? For the sake of his own safety, he naturally declined the offer.

However, the Gulfstream Corporation, which later flourished, is an excellent investment target. We could arrange for its capital to buy at the bottom and inject funds later…

While planning his capital strategy, Lu Chen chatted casually with Victor as he walked towards the VIP passage.

Outside the passageway, a convoy of three Bentleys had been waiting for some time.

Standing in front of the car door was a British man in his early fifties. He wore a well-tailored dark gray overcoat with a dark red silk scarf neatly tied around his collar, and his gray hair was meticulously combed with hair oil.

It was Sir Robert King.

"Mr. Lu! Mr. Victor!" Robert stretched out his hands from afar, his voice booming, "Welcome to London! You must be tired from your journey!"

"Sir Robert, it's an honor to meet you," Lu Chen said, shaking his hand. "Sophia has mentioned you to me many times."

"Not at all, Ms. Sophia is the real legend," Robert said with a smile and a shake of his head. "The High Table Group has been cooperating with the King's Enterprises for so many years, and I've always wanted to find an opportunity to formally express my gratitude, but she's been too busy—fortunately, I met you today."

As they shook hands, Lu Chen subtly glanced at the knight before him.

Robert is even more astute in person than in photographs—his eyes are bright, and his gaze falls on people like a scanner, as if he is measuring something.

His steps were warm and his smile was enthusiastic, but Lu Chen could sense that beneath that enthusiasm lay a vigilance unique to those who start from scratch—a constant sense of calculation.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Robert personally opened the car door: "Please get in, everything is ready at the manor."

The convoy then left the airport and headed towards the city along the M4 highway.

October in London is already tinged with the rich colors of autumn. Golden leaves are scattered on the plane trees lining the streets, the Thames flows quietly under the bridges, and the majestic clock tower of the Houses of Parliament appears and disappears on the horizon in the distance.

About forty minutes later, the convoy passed through the bustling city of Westminster and turned into the famous Knightsbridge neighborhood.

Knightsbridge is one of London's most prestigious and affluent neighborhoods, lined with Georgian-style townhouses with red brick facades, white window frames, and brass nameplates on the porches.

In this prime location where every inch of land is incredibly valuable, Robert King managed to acquire an entire luxurious estate spanning a considerable area.

The convoy drove into a quiet private alley and slowly came to a stop in front of a wide wrought-iron gate. On either side of the gate were two sturdy stone pillars, topped with the family coat of arms. Inside, a gravel driveway wound its way through a neatly manicured lawn to the grey and white English manor house at the far end.

The main building is four stories high, constructed of red brick and gray stone. In front of the building is a spacious courtyard with a small fountain in the center, its water gurgling softly. On both sides are hedges trimmed into geometric shapes, and several old oak trees cast long shadows on the lawn. The afternoon sunlight falls on the grass, and the entire estate appears quiet and dignified in the early autumn twilight.

The convoy had just come to a stop in front of the fountain when the main building's doors were pushed open, and a middle-aged woman quickly stepped out.

The woman was in her early forties, wearing a deep red dress, her black hair was tied up in a bun, and her features had distinct Caucasian characteristics, with deep-set eyes and a high nose.

Her demeanor was elegant and gentle, and when she smiled, the corners of her eyes slightly turned up, exuding a kind of old-fashioned aristocratic composure.

Standing next to her was a girl, about thirteen or fourteen years old, wearing a light blue dress and with her brown hair tied in a ponytail.

She looked very much like that woman, with delicate features like a Barbie doll, and a touch of girlish naiveté in her eyes. She was secretly observing the distinguished guest getting out of the car with a mixture of curiosity and nervousness.

"Mr. Lu, Mr. Victor," Robert introduced, "this is my wife, Farida. This is our precious daughter, Alexia."

"Welcome to our home," Farida greeted with a smile in English with a slight Caucasian accent. "You must be tired from your journey."

"You're too kind, Madam." Lu Chen bowed slightly.

"Hello Uncle Lu, hello Uncle Victor." Elektra stood behind her mother, her voice soft, and then she lowered her head, her ears turning slightly red.

Lu Chen glanced at her, smiled, and nodded: "Hello, Alexia."

Alexia blushed even more and shrank back behind her mother.

Seeing his daughter's shy expression, Robert couldn't help but laugh. "This child is usually fearless at home, I don't know what's wrong with her today. Alright, please come in, it's cool outside."

The group entered the villa, where the fireplace in the living room was burning brightly, filling the air with warmth. Farida smiled and nodded to her husband, then took Alextra's hand and headed towards the kitchen: "You all chat, I'll prepare dinner. Tonight, I've specially prepared some of our hometown's specialties."

"Thank you for your hard work, darling." Robert gently patted his wife's hand.

Watching his wife and daughter's figures disappear at the end of the corridor, Robert turned to Lu Chen and Victor, his expression slightly composed: "Gentlemen, this way please—let's talk in the study."

……

The study on the third floor was spacious and quiet, with a faint scent of ink in the air. The oak bookshelves were filled with monographs on geology and economics, and a topographical map of the Caspian Sea hung on the wall, densely labeled.

Robert invited the two men to sit down, poured each of them a glass of whiskey, then locked the study door and returned to his seat.

"Gentlemen," Robert said, getting straight to the point, "we've already discussed most of it on the phone and reached a consensus on the general framework. The reason I've invited you here today is to finalize the last few details."

"No problem," Victor said, crossing his legs. "But before that, we have a few unresolved issues from last time that we need to discuss."

"That's natural," Robert said, raising his glass with a serious expression. "Let's start with the most crucial issue—the shareholding structure. The Soviet Union had very strict rules regarding Western joint ventures: foreign ownership could not exceed 49%, and the chairman and general manager had to be Soviet citizens."

"So my plan is to find a reliable person within the Ashrafa family to act as this agent. He will then take the 51% of the seats."

"No problem," Victor nodded. He had later investigated the Ashrafa family's connections in Azerbaijan. Bringing someone in would be perfect for keeping out certain troublemakers. "The exclusive mining rights there..."

"It's all settled," Robert said with a confident smile. "I've spoken with the Central Committee of Azerbaijan and the Baku Petroleum Industry Consortium, and they agree in principle to our extraction plan."

The reason for such a smooth process is quite simple: the shallow waters of the Caspian Sea had already been exhausted by the Soviet Union, but the deep waters and high-pressure oil and gas fields (such as the famous "Aseli-Chilag-Güneshli" oil field cluster) were simply undevelopable by the Soviet Union due to the lack of Western deep-sea drilling platforms and high-pressure blowout prevention technology.

"...Based on the above reasons, I reached an agreement with them. I will provide Beihai with deep-sea drilling equipment, high-pressure pipeline valves, and 3D seismic exploration technology in exchange for an exclusive mining license."

Lu Chen leaned back in his chair, picked up his wine glass, and took a sip: "There's no need to worry about the money. Victor and I have already secured the first phase of funding, and the oil pipeline can start construction at any time. As for security—Jiahe Security's Eastern European branch will ensure the safety of this project throughout the entire process."

"That's great, with Jiahe Security protecting us, I feel much more at ease." Robert's eyes lit up.

Jiahe Security is now renowned in the industry, and its Eastern Europe branch is one of the largest branches within Jiahe, with at least a thousand regular staff and countless armed helicopters and armored vehicles. It is naturally capable of dealing with bandits, local tyrants and armed forces.

Viktor continued, "I'm also prepared on the Moscow side. I've hired a high-ranking official from the Soviet Ministry of Foreign Economic Relations—Sergei Petrovich Volkov—as our advisor. He'll be in charge of helping us with the process and smoothing things over."

He paused, a hint of a smile in his voice: "Later, we can also set up an office in Moscow, using the banner of 'responding to Comrade Gorbachev's call for economic reform and introducing advanced Western technology' to try and obtain special approval from the highest levels."

A series of knowing chuckles suddenly erupted in the study.

"Great," Robert clapped his hands. "Now let's talk about the last thing—the shares."

As expected, the negotiations for the shares took quite a bit of talking.

Robert made an outrageous demand: he wanted 20% of the 49% foreign-owned shares.

Victor frowned. "Robert, you're asking for too much. While you provided the technology for this project, we were the ones who built the bulk of the funding, security, infrastructure, and distribution channels… weren't we the ones who set it up?"

"Don't forget about my connections; those are the keys to opening this door," Robert argued. "Without me, this project wouldn't even have been approved."

"The key is important, but the house itself is worth a lot more." Victor swirled his wine glass and took a sip. "We still need to carefully calculate how much the key is worth and how much the house is worth."

The two engaged in a heated debate, arguing back and forth for nearly an hour. Lu Chen sat beside them, occasionally interjecting with a comment, each time skillfully interrupting their exchange and steer the conversation back on track.

Finally, all parties reached an agreement:

Of the 49% foreign-owned shares, Lu Chen and Victor each hold 20%, and Robert holds 9%.

As for the 51% Soviet shareholding—20% of which was indirectly held by Robert through the Ashrafa family, and the remaining 30% or so was distributed as "dry shares" among various high-ranking officials and interest groups in Moscow and Azerbaijan.

"Phew...it's settled then!" Robert let out a long sigh of relief, raised his glass high towards the two of them, "I've been waiting for this deal since the day I set foot in the Caucasus in 1973."

"Then let's wish each other well," Lu Chen raised his glass, "that all our wishes come true."

"May all your wishes come true!"

Then, the three glasses clinked together, making a crisp, light sound.

……

Because the equity negotiations took a lot of time, by the time the three of them finalized the entire agreement and left the study, it was just time for dinner.

When the three arrived at the restaurant on the first floor, Farida and her entourage had already prepared dinner. A deep red tablecloth covered the long table, which was laden with Azerbaijani specialties.

The first course was the famous Dushbal—handmade lamb dumplings soaked in hot broth, with a few sprigs of mint and chickpeas floating on top, emitting a wonderful aroma.

Next up is the kutu—a thin, translucent pasta filled with sweet pumpkin puree and tender minced lamb, pan-fried until slightly golden and crispy, and served with special yogurt for a unique flavor.

The main course was roasted lamb chops, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, sprinkled with cumin and paprika, the fat glistening under the light; next to it was a large plate of pilaf piled high, the color of saffron turning each grain of rice golden yellow, with shredded carrots and raisins buried in the rice, a sweet and salty flavor.

Of course, there was also a pot of hot brick tea on the table, along with a dish of pomegranate seeds and a jar of rose jam—Azerbaijanis have a habit of adding a spoonful of jam to their tea, and the sweet and sour taste slides down their throat, just enough to cut through the greasiness of the mutton.

"Try this pilaf," Farida said with a smile, serving Lu Chen a bowl. "It's a secret recipe my mother taught me."

Lu Chen took a bite; the rice grains were distinct, carrying the unique aroma of saffron and the freshness of mutton.

He smiled and nodded: "It's delicious, more authentic than anything I've ever had in any restaurant."

"Madam's skills are truly amazing," Victor praised sincerely, picking up a piece of nut cookie and chewing it. His eyes lit up. "This dessert is also outstanding, though the sweetness is a little restrained."

"Haha, it seems the Americans really do have a sweet tooth. Next time you come, I'll have the chef update the menu," Robert laughed.

Elektra sat obediently next to her mother, head down, eating quietly. But she would occasionally steal a glance at Lu Chen sitting opposite her, then quickly lower her head again, pretending to be engrossed in the pilaf on her plate.

Lu Chen noticed that gaze, but he didn't point it out. Instead, when that gaze fell on him again, he looked up and gave her a slight smile.

Alexia's face flushed red, and she almost dropped the spoon into the bowl.

She didn't know what was wrong with her, but she felt that Uncle Lu in front of her was really good-looking and had a very comfortable temperament, unlike those loud and unserious boys in her class.

"Elektra," Lu Chen began, his tone gentle, "what do you usually like to do?"

"I...I like riding horses," Alexia's voice was soft, "and painting."

"What a coincidence! My son also loves horseback riding, and we even have a pony for him at home," Lu Chen smiled. "So, what do you like to draw?"

"The scenery, and the sea," she gradually relaxed a bit, "My dad said that the Caspian Sea I painted is the most beautiful."

"I'll remember that. Next time we meet, I'll definitely see your paintings in person."

Alexia's eyes lit up, and she nodded vigorously: "Yes!"

Farida sat beside her, watching her daughter gradually open up and talk, her eyes filled with love.

The atmosphere at dinner grew increasingly harmonious. Victor put down his knife and fork and remarked, "The food I've had in London is already so delicious. If I have the chance in the future, I must go to Azerbaijan myself to taste the authentic flavors of the Caucasus."

Everyone understood the underlying meaning in his words. Lu Chen raised his glass and smiled slightly: "There will be opportunities."

……

After dinner, Lu Chen and Victor got up to say goodbye, preparing to return to their respective private mansions in London with their men.

Robert saw them to the door, and Farida and Electra followed them out.

The night breeze was a bit chilly. Alexia, wearing a coat, stood on the porch, watching the two adults get into the car.

Lu Chen walked to the car door and was about to bend down to get in when he suddenly heard a series of hurried footsteps behind him.

"Uncle Lu!"

Alexia suddenly returned to the house, and after a while, she ran up to Lu Chen with a rolled-up painting in her hand.

Alexia tiptoed to slip the painting into Lu Chen's hands, then quickly took two steps back, her face flushed, but her voice was much louder than before: "Goodbye, Uncle Lu!"

Lu Chen looked down at the painting in his hand—a watercolor depicting the Caspian Sea at dusk, with an oil drilling platform resting on the surface, the setting sun painting the sea a golden-red hue. The brushstrokes were still quite immature, but the composition was already taking shape.

He smiled and reached out to touch Alexia's hair. "Thank you, goodbye, Alexia."

Clementine froze instantly when Lu Chen suddenly patted her head, her delicate face turning bright red. By the time she came to her senses, Lu Chen had already gracefully entered the car.

She stood there blankly at the door, watching the Bentley slowly drive out of the wrought iron gate and disappear into the night of Knightsbridge, before finally looking away.

A night breeze blew in from the direction of the Thames, carrying a hint of late autumn chill. The ivy at the entrance of the manor swayed gently in the wind, then fell silent again.