I became a movie star at the age of three; Dilraba and I are childhood sweethearts.

Xiao Chen didn't say anything, but simply reached out and ruffled her hair.

In the eyes of others, he is a movie star, an all-around genius, and a billionaire.

But at this moment, amidst the warm lights and the aroma of ribs.

He was just that boy who was a bit sharp-tongued and a bit gentle, yet drove everyone crazy.

The production team of "The Voice of China," far away overseas, had no idea what kind of Eastern deity they were about to encounter.

Xiao Chen, meanwhile, had already begun to conceive of how to give the global audience a small shock on that stage.

He was eighteen years old that year.

His era of versatility has only just begun.

The assistant called from outside the door.

"Director Xiao, the motion capture data for Avatar has arrived."

Xiao Chen put down his chopsticks, and the gentleness in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by endless professionalism and rationality.

"Bring it in."

The assistant placed a thick stack of motion capture data on the table.

Xiao Chen's slender fingers swept across the screen, his gaze cold.

That face, which could drive movie fans around the world crazy, was now filled with extreme rationality.

"The sampling frequency is not high enough. Notify Weta Digital that I need subtle tremors in muscle bundles, not puppet shows."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable air of authority.

The technical supervisor next to him was sweating profusely, taking notes rapidly with a pen.

"Director Xiao, this level of precision is probably too much for current servers to handle."

Xiao Chen didn't even look up, just lightly tapped the modeling diagram with his fingertip.

"Then add servers. Money is not a problem. What I want is the soul of Chinese Kung Fu."

He stood up and walked to the window.

The setting sun cast its light on his profile, outlining a silhouette like that of a deity.

The framework of Avatar swirled in his mind; it was more than just a collection of special effects.

He invited the most elite martial arts team in the country.

He wanted the Na'vi to perform the most authentic Bajiquan and Tai Chi Cloud Hands on Pandora.

The tension created by the collision of Eastern rhythms and science fiction is the ultimate goal he pursues.

This groundbreaking idea left the old fogies in Hollywood speechless.

But in front of Xiao Chen, no one dared to say no.

Because he is Xiao Chen, the prodigy who won an Oscar and wrote a book that sold out globally.

"Director Xiao, what about 'A Little Reunion'...?"

The assistant whispered a reminder.

Xiao Chen rubbed his temples; it only took him a second to change his mood.

"We've filmed half of it; we'll finish the rest when I get back from the US."

He picked up his coat with a nonchalant air.

"Let Lao Huang finish his supporting role's scenes first, ensuring quality and quantity. I took three days off."

Wang Jinhua was already waiting outside the door, clutching a plane ticket to Los Angeles in her hand.

"Ancestor, the car is down below, we have to hurry."

When the two boarded the plane, the flight attendant in first class had eyes that were practically overflowing with love.

They didn't even dare to breathe loudly, for fear of disturbing the most handsome billionaire in all of Asia.

Xiao Chen put on sunglasses, a signature mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Aunt Hua, are they going to cause me trouble again from the US this time?"

Wang Jinhua rolled her eyes at him, her tone full of doting affection.

"How dare they? The production team of 'The Voice of China' would practically worship you."

As the plane pierced through the clouds, Xiao Chen drifted off to sleep, reminiscing about the past decade or so.

He walked so fast that the whole world could only chase after his back.

When I landed in Los Angeles, the crowd that greeted me was astonishing.

A convoy of black Hummers lined up, their bodyguards all dressed in suits and sunglasses.

As Xiao Chen walked out of the terminal, he managed to make even a simple white T-shirt and jeans look like haute couture.

Hot American girls on the street were screaming and calling his name.

"Chen! Look here!"

Xiao Chen waved his hand, his smile both gentlemanly and distant.

Upon arriving at the hotel, Wang Jinhua opened the floor-to-ceiling window and gazed at the bustling Avenue of Stars.

"The competition is set, and according to your requirements, you have absolute autonomy over your team."

She turned around, her expression becoming more serious.

"There's more good news: the production team has opened an Eastern passage just for you."

Xiao Chen raised an eyebrow.

"The Eastern Passage?"

Wang Jinhua nodded.

"I heard that the number of Chinese people who signed up this time is terrifying, they're all here for you."

"You are their light, Xiao Chen."

Xiao Chen took a sip of ice water, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly.

"Whether it's shady or not doesn't matter, just don't embarrass yourself."

Wang Jinhua pulled an itinerary out of her bag.

"Before the first recording, the production team asked each mentor to put on an opening show."

"This is a global live broadcast, you know how high the viewership is."

She looked at Xiao Chen with some concern.

"You've been working on movies lately, how's your voice?"

Xiao Chen put down his cup, a wild glint in his eyes.

"Aunt Hua, when have you ever seen me mess up?"

"Find me a recording studio, the best of the best."

Wang Jinhua is extremely efficient.

The following day, a famous private recording studio in downtown Los Angeles was cleared out.

The walls are covered with Grammy Awards, and the equipment here is shockingly expensive.

Xiao Chen went inside and tested the microphone.

The sound engineer was an elderly American man with a large beard, who was initially quite arrogant.

After all, he has worked with countless big-name superstars.

But when Xiao Chen took off his sunglasses, his breathtakingly handsome face stunned the old man.

"Oh my god, you're that...that Jack?"

Xiao Chen smiled politely, his voice magnetic.

"It's me, are you ready?"

He picked up a dusty electric guitar.

His slender fingers plucked the strings a few times, and crisp notes leaped out.

The sound engineer quickly put on his headphones, his expression turning serious.

He sensed an extremely terrifying aura emanating from the boy.

That was the oppressive feeling unique to top artists.

Xiao Chen closed his eyes, and images of his past and present lives flashed through his mind.

Those struggles, those glories, that resentment and passion.

He wanted a song, a song that could represent the spirit of China and shatter the eardrums of these arrogant foreigners.

In this time and space, some classics have not yet been born.

And he was the one who sowed the seeds.

A low, static sound came from the speaker.

Xiao Chen suddenly exerted force on his wrist.

The prelude to "Boundless Oceans, Vast Skies" exploded like muffled thunder in the recording studio.

That stirring melody carries an indomitable vitality.

The sound engineer's hands were shaking.

He couldn't understand the lyrics, but he understood the sense of destiny.

Xiao Chen spoke into the microphone, his voice slightly hoarse and resolute.

Every note is as precise as a scalpel.

Wang Jinhua stood outside the soundproof glass, her eyes suddenly feeling hot.

She had seen Xiao Chen work tirelessly on set and had seen him strategize in the business world.

But at this moment, amidst the roar of the guitar, Xiao Chen most resembles that eighteen-year-old boy.

That freak who should have enjoyed the world's love, but instead chose to conquer the world with his strength.

After the song was finished, the recording studio was deathly silent.

Three full minutes passed before the sound engineer burst into enthusiastic applause.

"This will be a masterpiece! An absolute masterpiece!"