The Netherlands is most famous for tulips, a name that has made it known throughout the world. During wartime, the Netherlands, whether militarily or economically, lagged behind the United States. Furthermore, while developing its film industry, the Netherlands once established a rather powerful award, an award named the 'Oscar.'

The Oscar originated in the Netherlands before spreading to various nations, starting its transformation in Britain, moving on to the United States, and eventually being adopted by other countries, including Hollywood productions.

However, within the sphere of the Oscars, the Dutch version is certainly no longer capable of surpassing others. Still, any recipient in the Netherlands—be it a singer, a film star, or a musician—feels immense pride in winning this award. Concurrently, other nations look upon the Dutch Oscar with respect because its historical significance, its origin in the Netherlands, is never forgotten by anyone.

“Are you saying you are confident you can make that duo achieve the most glorious history in the world?” The youth seemed to grasp the gravity of the issue, as winning an Oscar carried an unimaginable influence. If that were true, his objective would truly be within reach.

“There is no absolute certainty in this world, only the willingness to try. Therefore, I cannot guarantee that duo will become glorious under my guidance, but I can promise to exert every effort, to dedicate myself fully to making them known across the globe.” As he finished speaking, a look of disheartened mockery suddenly washed over Chen Yi’s face.

The youth glanced at him, a faint smile also playing on his lips. “The dejection on your face tells me you think you no longer have a chance?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Chen Yi shook his head with a bitter smile, took a sip of his drink, and continued, “Tian Yin originally had the capability to promote a new pair like that, but unfortunately… it was all ruined by that second-generation brat.”

“What if I told you that you still have a chance now? Would you be willing to try?” The youth didn't look at Chen Yi, merely offering a casual smile before downing the rest of his drink in one gulp.

“What do you mean by that?” Chen Yi wasn't foolish; he sensed hidden meanings in the youth's words.

“Nothing much, I just want you to come work for me. Of course, the salary will be double what you earn at Tian Yin, and I’ll give you a high position, along with making you the agent for the Phantom Duo.” The youth calmly looked at Chen Yi. “I know you’re confused right now. I can give you time to consider. How about this: three days from now, go to Longwei Audio-Visual Company and ask for someone named Ye Xiaohou. Tell him Yang Yi sent you.”

“Ye Xiaohou? Yang Yi?” Upon hearing this, Chen Yi visibly flinched, murmuring in surprise, “Isn’t Ye Xiaohou the chairman of Longwei? Who is Yang Yi?”

Just as he was about to press further, he suddenly noticed the youth was no longer beside him, deepening his confusion. He abruptly took another swig of his drink. At that moment, the bartender approached Chen Yi. “Old Chen, I have a strange feeling about that young man. The name Yang Yi… I think I’ve heard it somewhere, but I just can’t place it right now.”

“Heh heh!” Chen Yi let out a hollow laugh. No one knew what was churning in his mind now, and the look of bitter struggle on his face had vanished, replaced by a fierce, burning determination in his eyes.

“Talent is talent, whether it’s the Black God Gang or others; what we lack is capable talent. It seems I need to have Uncle Han reassign the allocation of personnel,” thought the youth, who was Yang Yi, as he walked out of the bar.

Indeed, although the Black God Gang was constantly training lower and higher-ranking members, their lack of practical experience—insufficient real-world seasoning—meant they were deficient in concepts of subjectivity and introspection. They needed to gather a core group of talent to provide guidance; only then could the Black God Gang and all its enterprises be elevated.

“Damn fatty.”

“Bang!”

“Oh, my God!” Fatty Lin first heard the sound and immediately paused the remote control. When the door was kicked open, he hastily turned off the screen, looking guilty as if caught in the act.

“Damn fatty, are you tired of living? You lied to me, saying Yi was coming to my place.”

“Uh, Big Sister-in-law…” Fatty Lin felt a pang of awkwardness seeing Li Qian’s angry expression. In truth, he hadn’t clearly registered what Li Qian was saying; his eyes were constantly darting toward the screen.

Ye Xiaohou, who had just walked in, noticed this expression and frowned slightly in confusion.

“Alright, Qian’er, this isn’t Fatty’s fault. That scoundrel probably had something urgent come up…”

“What urgent matter could he possibly have? Besides chasing girls and being a hooligan, what else?” Li Qian’s tone was sharp, but everyone understood that months apart was an agonizing test for lovers.

“Uh, Brother Yi didn't go to your place? That’s impossible; he took a car out right after landing.” Fatty Lin feigned confusion, though his ability to conceal was stronger than his doubt.

“Hmph, how should I know!” Li Qian snorted, turning to Xia Shiyun. “Shiyun Jie, let’s go eat. That scoundrel doesn’t even think about us. Let’s go!”

“Hey… Qian’er… Qian’er!” Xia Shiyun was pulled away by Li Qian.

Fatty Lin breathed a sigh of relief in his heart. Just as he was about to walk over and turn off the screen, Ye Xiaohou suddenly stopped him, smirking wickedly. “Number Two, don’t tell me you were…”

“Get lost, damn it, watching a movie…” Fatty Lin didn't finish his sentence because he saw Ye Xiaohou swiftly snatch the remote control and switch the screen back on.

A somewhat pleasant sound immediately filled the air: “Ah… Oh… Mmm!”

“Damn it, Number Two, you’re shameless!” Ye Xiaohou’s eyes flashed with sudden sharp interest.

“Screw you, you’re no better!” Fatty Lin retorted, quickly running over to lock the door, fearful of another sudden intrusion.

“Number Two, where did you find such a classic film? Damn, it’s even a Hong Kong production! Could it be…!”

“Tsk tsk, this is what Brother Yi and I privately bought when we were in Hong Kong last time. Not bad, huh!”

“Yeah, it’s not bad.”

“Number Four, don’t think I hoard the good stuff by myself. Come, I’ll show you what real good stuff is.” Fatty Lin said, sitting on the sofa and pulling out several discs from a bag, chuckling slyly. “These are all Hong Kong and Macau productions, hehe, absolutely classic.”

“Holy crap, hurry, hurry and play it…”

And so, Ye Xiaohou joined Fatty Lin’s ranks, secretly watching the film, both sporting lewd smiles at the screen.

“Qian’er, Qian’er!” Xia Shiyun called out to Li Qian a few times before stopping. She turned to her and said, “Let’s wait a little longer. If Yi comes back and can’t find us…”

“Shiyun Jie, forget him. That scoundrel is probably off somewhere having his fun,” Li Qian complained.

“Qian’er!”

“I already said, don’t…” Li Qian stopped mid-sentence, staring blankly at Xia Shiyun. “Did you just call me?”

“Yi!” Before Xia Shiyun could answer Li Qian, she spotted Yang Yi leaning against the doorframe, a smile on his face. She immediately rushed toward him.

Li Qian, upon seeing Yang Yi, felt her heart tremble at the sight of that familiar face, that familiar smile, and the subtly changed look in his eyes. She wanted to rush over and embrace him tightly, but for some unknown reason, a strange feeling of petty annoyance welled up inside her. She pouted and stamped her foot emphatically.

“Scoundrel, scoundrel, scoundrel!” she muttered repeatedly.

Li Qian was one way; Xia Shiyun was another. Having not seen Yang Yi for months, her passion was like a fire, one that burned hotter the longer it raged. She reached him, and without a word, her crimson lips immediately sealed over his.

A passionate kiss?

And in full view of everyone?

When had Xia Shiyun become so bold? Casting aside all girlish modesty, she threw herself into the kiss?

Of course, within the highest headquarters of the Black God Gang, almost no one failed to recognize Xia Shiyun and Li Qian. It was widely known that they were the Dragon Lord’s women; everyone called them the Dragon Consorts.

Where did the title ‘Dragon Consort’ come from? It was derived from the concept of ancient monarchs, hence the categorization of consorts and the implication of being a leading female figure. This title was first coined within the Black God Gang by the Dragon himself.

“Mmm! Darling, you’ve lost weight since I last saw you in months. Have you missed me too much?” After the kiss, Yang Yi cupped Xia Shiyun’s tender, rosy cheeks and chuckled wickedly.

“Hmph, you bad man, not even calling us for months. You don’t know how much Qian’er and I missed you,” Xia Shiyun always revealed her uniquely delicate shyness around Yang Yi; it would be nearly impossible to see her act this way in front of outsiders.

Hearing this, Yang Yi smiled faintly, glanced at the sulking Li Qian standing a distance away, and walked directly toward her. “Darling, what’s wrong? Are you angry at your husband?”

“Hmph, I’m not talking to you.” Li Qian turned away, ignoring Yang Yi.

Yang Yi knew that he had barely had time to call them over the past few months while engrossed in his underworld affairs. He was also immensely proud of the achievements they had made in his absence.

“Darling, don’t be mad. If you keep frowning, you’ll get wrinkles, and you won’t be pretty anymore!” Yang Yi embraced Li Qian from behind, completely unconcerned by the gazes of the Black God Gang members working nearby.

The members knew Li Qian and Xia Shiyun well, but the newly recruited gang members had never seen Yang Yi, nor did they know he was the Dragon Lord, so their stares were laced with doubt.

Li Qian pouted, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. Just as she was about to say something, Yang Yi’s lips pressed down on hers. Li Qian couldn't react in time; the words she intended to call him a scoundrel vanished, turning instead into, “Mmm, mmm, mmm!”