At eleven o'clock at night, outside the hotel, Sebastian Vanderbilt is staggering, reeking of alcohol, visibly drunk.
"Are you okay?" Victoria asks with concern as she helps him into the car, worried.
"I'm fine!" Through the car window, Sebastian waves goodbye to the material suppliers: "Next time, let's drink in Atlanta!"
However, as soon as the car window closes and the vehicle starts, the drunkenness on Sebastian's body visibly fades away at an observable rate, leaving no sign of intoxication except for the smell of alcohol.
Victoria is bewildered, her eyes wide as if witnessing a magic trick.
Logically, after attending six drinking sessions in one night and drinking copiously, even if Sebastian could remain sober, he shouldn't be completely free of drunkenness.
"Seb, are you one of those people who are naturally immune to alcohol?" Victoria can't help but voice her doubts, recalling a type of person she'd seen on TV who was naturally immune to alcohol.
"It's just a small trick."
Sebastian smiles and then pulls out a thick towel from his suit pocket, opening the car window and wringing it out vigorously.
"Whoosh!"
The alcohol pours out like a waterfall.
"Really..." Victoria exclaims in surprise, not having considered such a method.
"If I truly drank at every session, how could my body take it?" Sebastian says with a slight smile. "Business is important, but I want to live a few more years."
Insiders know their own affairs.
Before his reincarnation, the previous Sebastian Vanderbilt suffered from alcohol-related liver disease due to overindulgence, a pain only he knew, hence he developed his method of avoidance after came back.
"Sebastian, you really..." Victoria doesn't know what to say.
In the banquets, Sebastian appeared composed and indifferent, facing everything with calmness, like a noble son stepping out of a drama.
Yet at night, racing from one drinking session to another, doing business, Sebastian was suffused with worldly cunning, smooth-talking and dealing like a businessman immersed in commerce for years.
Two discordant feelings emerged in the same person.
Like... After a moment of thought, Victoria finds the answer. It was like being pulled from fantasy into reality.
"So the scions of wealthy families also have to endure those drinking sessions!" Victoria leans on her hand, feeling somewhat nostalgic, "When I used to watch dramas, I always thought that children from wealthy families didn't need to do anything to have everything. I didn't expect that even the children of the Oceanic Corporation couldn't escape convention."
"What is convention, anyway?" Sebastian laughs, "In this world, the essence of both the conventional and the refined is defined and distinguished by people themselves, like..."
"For example, do you think those who rely on their family's money to chase after an air of artistry, wine, equestrian events, and the like are refined?"
Sebastian smiles and explains, "Or are the factory workers who toil every day for a few thousand dollars considered conventional?"
Victoria falls silent, lost in thought.
"So, you can't really differentiate between the definitions of refined and conventional, can you?" Sebastian chuckles lightly.
"But those famous people in the world..." Victoria seems unwilling to concede.
"Fortune favors the prepared mind!" Sebastian says with a tinge of emotion and a hint of sigh.
The world is vast.
Perhaps a bricklayer might reach the same wavelength as a great thinker in certain respects.
So what? No one cares about the thoughts of a laborer, yet the musings of a philosopher might be endlessly magnified.
The world has never been fair. Sebastian Vanderbilt knew this well before his rebirth.
After all, as kin of a wealthy family, living an ordinary life for over twenty years was a unique existence in uptown families.
"So, instead of discussing the conventional and the refined, why not talk about something more realistic — money!"
Sebastian laughs as he explains, "Victoria might find it tacky, but both convention and refinement need money as a foundation."
"How could it be considered tacky?"
Victoria smiles, "Whether as a singer or a businessman, isn't the ultimate goal of any job to make money?"
Upon hearing this, Sebastian seems surprised.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Victoria asks curiously.
"I thought you would talk to me about dreams," Sebastian says, his gaze a bit peculiar, reminding him of another person at that moment.
Is it wrong to pursue responsibility, ideals, and dreams?
No. Perhaps what's wrong is that the two people's thinking isn't on the same wavelength.
"Dreams?"
Victoria asks, "Haven't you heard a saying, Sebastian?"
"What saying?"
"Dreams are for others to see; money is for one's own spending!"
"You seem to always bring me surprises," Sebastian says, somewhat astonished but quickly laughs, "It's hard to imagine a beautiful woman like you saying such a cliché."
"Do beautiful women not need to poop?" Victoria's smile is whimsical, then she sincerely adds, "Beautiful women need to eat, drink, and live too, right?"
Sebastian Vanderbilt has no rebuttal.
Victoria's curiosity always seems strong. By Sebastian's side, she is like a curious baby.
During idle moments on the road, Sebastian generously shares some of his insights.
For instance:
"Gifts should be top-quality items in small categories, not inferior goods in large categories. Although the price might be the same, the impression they give is worlds apart."
"When meeting seniors, you can show respect, but you don't need to revere them. This also applies to successful seniors. You are you, and you cannot be someone else. The same experience can lead to two different outcomes."
"If you think of something, just do it. Don't be afraid of making mistakes. Hesitating during the most energetic years of your life will make you miss too many opportunities."
"Life should be upright; oddity is ultimately an external path."
In the profound night, stars twinkle brightly.
A black car speeds through the night, the scenery on both sides fleeting.
Inside the car, under the dim light, Sebastian Vanderbilt speaks eloquently, with a gentle and refined manner, exuding a scholarly aura.
Beside him, Victoria's beautiful eyes sparkle even brighter than the stars above.
She leans on her hand, utterly enraptured.
Was this also a real side of Sebastian Vanderbilt?
That night, she feels her soul drawing closer to Sebastian Vanderbilt.
At one o'clock in the morning, in the Pretty Generation dormitory, Victoria lies tossing and turning in bed. Every time she closes her eyes, the image of a face beaming with a warm and friendly smile appears.
Who knows how much time has passed.
The moonlight spills over the world like water.
Victoria falls asleep peacefully, her cheeks tinged with a touch of red, a sweet smile on her lips, as if she's had a beautiful dream.