The Hearst family estate was not far from Simon's manor. In less than five minutes, Simon and Janet arrived.
It was another sizable property. The moment their sedan stopped in front of an old-fashioned villa, a servant hurried over to open the door.
As the couple stepped out, they could already see silhouettes moving about inside the villa's hall.
Yet aside from the servants, no one from the host family came out to greet them. The two exchanged a glance, and Janet leaned in with a bright smile and murmured, "Might be on purpose."
Simon watched as a guest who had arrived earlier was guided by the servants toward the parking area, with more cars still coming in behind. He did not linger outside. He gave a slight shrug, and with Janet, walked straight into the villa.
They stepped through the front doors and looked around.
There were a little over twenty guests in the hall, clustered in small groups chatting. Simon spotted more than a few familiar faces, including New York City Mayor David Dinkins, who noticed Simon and Janet the instant they entered.
Since the Hearsts were staunch supporters of the Democratic Party, it was not surprising to see Dinkins here.
Simon did not see the host family. As David Dinkins and a few people who had been speaking with him started walking over, Simon smiled and went to meet them.
Dinkins had come with his wife. After they greeted Simon and Janet, Dinkins introduced the elderly man with a much younger wife beside him. "Simon, this is Mr. John Gutfreund, chairman of Salomon Brothers, and his wife, Lisa."
Salomon Brothers was one of the era's famous Wall Street investment banks, on par with Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley. Strictly speaking, at this moment, Salomon was even stronger than both.
Of course, that was only true for now.
Simon reached out and shook John Gutfreund's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, John."
"Hello, Simon. I've been looking forward to meeting you," John Gutfreund said warmly. Releasing Simon, he shook Janet's hand as well. "Hello, Mrs. Westeros."
Janet smiled as she shook his hand. "Just call me Jenny."
After the introductions and a few pleasantries, David Dinkins glanced around. "I could've sworn William was just here."
John Gutfreund seemed to notice it too. He looked around and said, "It looks like Tom Murphy arrived. They went next door."
Tom Murphy was the chairman of the Metropolis ABC Group.
Simon could roughly guess what Hearst and Murphy wanted to discuss. He did not mind. "I can wait. John, David, what were you talking about just now?"
David Dinkins did not pursue the earlier topic. The Hearsts could afford to slight a young super-rich man like Simon, but Dinkins did not have that luxury. He said, "Oh, about the president's 'New World Order' plan he's been pushing lately. Simon, what do you think?" [Spoiler: Nope, they can't]
Before Iraq invaded Kuwait at the end of July, the U.S. ambassador to Baghdad had personally assured Saddam that the United States would not interfere in Iraq's dispute with Kuwait.
But once Iraq successfully occupied Kuwait, the Bush administration promptly forgot that promise. Not only did it launch Operation Desert Shield within a week of the war's outbreak to confront Iraqi forces, Bush then began lobbying at the United Nations for his New World Order plan, calling on the United States and European countries to send troops to the Middle East to keep the global oil market stable, drive Iraqi forces out of Saudi Arabia, and further destroy Saddam's regime.
Other guests in the hall noticed Simon and drifted closer. Hearing David Dinkins bring up the Middle East war, they held back from greeting Simon directly and instead listened carefully, waiting to hear what the young man would say.
Cersei Capital had made astonishing, outsized profits over the past half year through operations in crude oil futures. The guests here naturally knew it, and some were even investors in Cersei Capital. If Westeros let slip anything truly valuable, they would not have come tonight for nothing.
Simon's gaze swept lightly over the crowd. "I think this war is probably unavoidable."
A guest nearby could not help asking, "Then Simon, do you think oil prices will keep rising?"
Recently, international crude had climbed close to forty dollars a barrel, essentially reaching the peak Simon remembered.
"It should rise a bit more," Simon said. "But I hear the White House is planning to release the federal oil reserve to stabilize prices. They might finalize it soon."
His answer was nothing more than what the newspapers had been reporting, so someone pushed back at once. "I've heard it's only twenty million barrels. If you calculate using the federal daily consumption of several million barrels, that won't even last a week."
"The key is whether the situation can stabilize," Simon said with a shrug. "Besides, I haven't been paying much attention to it lately."
The others tested him with a few more questions. When they could not get any usable information, they were visibly disappointed.
Simon was not the type to feel a surge of vanity just because people gathered around him. And though he'd only said a few sentences, he had in fact revealed something useful. Anyone with sharp instincts would catch two points.
First, the war was unavoidable. Second, Simon was no longer paying attention to crude oil futures. A person with ulterior motives could position themselves based on the first point. As for the second, if Simon no longer cared about it, that clearly suggested the feasibility of continued speculation in oil had already grown small.
Over the past few months, countless crude futures brokerages, the securities departments of energy companies, and hedge funds that had bet the wrong way before the war had all shut their doors under massive losses. Crude futures trading had dropped to a frozen low. In the short term, the market could not become lively again, which meant large-scale hedging arbitrage would be difficult to execute.
Still, even those who noticed would likely weigh whether Simon's words were credible, then mix in their own judgment.
Just like the earlier operations in crude futures, and before that the operations in Japan's financial markets, there had never been a shortage of people who managed to sniff out Cersei Capital's tactics. Yet from beginning to end, no one had been able to earn profits like Cersei's. The root reason was simple. Too many people trusted their own judgment more than they were willing to follow someone else's moves completely.
Even if the other party had created miracle after miracle, there would always be someone thinking, Maybe this time he'll finally take a nasty fall.
Cersei Capital had been able to build a long position worth tens of billions while oil prices were still plunging. Other hedge funds, thinking of the risk, would often reduce their position sizes and lower leverage even if they followed along, trying to avoid danger as much as possible. The result spoke for itself.
Simon continued chatting with David Dinkins and the others for a few minutes. At last, a slightly balding, heavyset middle-aged man appeared. It was William Randolph Hearst III, the Hearst family's third-generation leader.
He came up to Simon, studying the young man as he offered an apologetic smile. "I'm truly sorry, Simon. I was just talking with Tom about some things."
Because of his soft, heavy build, along with a smile that made people lower their guard, William Randolph Hearst III was hard to associate with the heir of a century-old media dynasty.
Simon returned a very sincere smile, shook his hand, and said, "It's alright, Mr. Hearst."
Hearst greeted Janet as well, then introduced the sharp-eyed man in a black suit beside him, an elderly gentleman in his sixties. "Simon, and Jenny, this is Tom Murphy."
Simon and Janet greeted the Metropolis ABC chairman.
After a few exchanges, Hearst smiled and asked, "What were you all talking about?"
So the group returned to the previous topic.
They had only spoken a few lines when a server leaned in and whispered something into Hearst's ear. Hearst turned to the group. "I'm very sorry, I need to step away for a moment. Please keep chatting."
The server had not bothered to lower his voice. Everyone heard the whispered words clearly. Mr. Buffett has arrived.
Watching Hearst and Tom Murphy head out together, many people's eyes fell on Simon without thinking.
If Hearst taking several minutes to appear could barely be excused, this blatant, unhidden difference in treatment was no longer merely rude. In this situation, even if Simon turned around and left on the spot, no one could call it excessive.
Perhaps because he had lived two lives, Simon had long realized he was missing certain emotions. He was indifferent to many things. And as his wealth and status continued to grow, that indifference seemed to worsen.
He knew he ought to be angry, but Hearst's slight just now truly did not stir much negativity in him. He was only curious. Since the Hearsts had invited him tonight, they should have wanted goodwill. Why be this discourteous?
Or perhaps William Randolph Hearst III did not think it was discourteous at all.
For a super media dynasty that even an American president would not lightly provoke, the Hearsts did have the confidence to be arrogant.
A moment later, Hearst and Tom Murphy returned, accompanied by an elderly man of average height with unruly hair. It was Warren Buffett, the head of Berkshire Hathaway.
As the three walked over, smiling and talking, Simon also stepped forward.
Before Simon could speak, Janet beat him to it. "Hi, Warren. Do you remember me?"
Janet's sudden remark surprised Simon, Hearst, and Murphy. Hearst, who had been all smiles, even frowned slightly, so subtly it was almost unnoticeable.
Simon was puzzled for a moment, then quickly recalled something Kathryn had mentioned years ago about Janet's past. Back when she was at Columbia University, she had apparently been the type to make waves.
Warren Buffett studied Janet for a few seconds, then smiled. "I remember now. You were that young girl at Columbia University."
Janet tipped her head and lightly pressed it to Simon's shoulder. "I'm Mrs. Westeros now. Look at my man. Warren, do you still think your investment theory isn't just a miser hoarding coins?"
"Hello, Simon," Buffett said as he shook Simon's hand, then continued to Janet, still amused. "I never imagined you'd marry Westeros. But from what I've observed over the past few years, Simon's rise can only be described as a miracle. I don't think I can create miracles, so I'll keep hoarding my coins slowly."
William Randolph Hearst III asked, "Warren, you know each other?"
Buffett nodded, still humorous. "Yes. This Mrs. Westeros, back when I gave a speech at Columbia University, she gave me a very hard time."
"Oh, what a coincidence," Hearst said.
After a few more jokes and laughter, Buffett and Murphy seemed to have business to discuss and walked off elsewhere.
With Hearst finally free, he seemed to remember something. He turned to Simon and said, "Right. Simon, let me introduce you to some guests."
Simon naturally agreed.
The Hearst family's century of accumulated foundation was on full display at this small party. Nearly everyone inside the villa tonight was a heavyweight in American politics or business, a true figure of influence. And throughout the evening, more guests continued arriving.
After speaking briefly with a congressman who was said to be pushing to restrict foreign investors from acquiring American companies, Simon and Hearst moved off to the side. Janet had already tactfully stepped away.
"Merlos will probably submit his bill next month together with several other representatives. We really can't let the Japanese keep buying up our country's assets," Hearst said. "As it happens, this should help your acquisition of MCA. Matsushita will worry that the deal might be vetoed by the Justice Department, so they won't be able to beat you."
"Let's hope so," Simon said.
Hearst assumed outright that Simon intended to acquire MCA. Simon did not deny it, but he also showed little interest in the congressman's proposal.
In the past few years, there had been constant calls in the United States to block Japanese companies from buying American firms. But given how open American capital markets were, Simon did not believe such a law could actually pass. In his memory, no such law did. Hollywood was an entertainment industry, and the Justice Department could hardly wield a veto under some excuse like national security.
Seeing Simon's lack of enthusiasm, Hearst got to the point. "About that twenty percent stake in ESPN, Simon. Metropolis ABC and the Hearst Group have always been very close partners. We hold shares in each other, and that creates a better complementary effect. And you should know this. Metropolis ABC not only has veto power over the buyer of that stake, even if you purchase it, you won't have any say. So I hope you'll withdraw. Perhaps in the future, we can find other opportunities to work together."
Simon had already intended to give up the twenty percent ESPN stake, but hearing Hearst try to push him out with nothing but a vague promise, he did not bother being polite. "Actually, William, there's a pretty good opportunity right now."
Hearst paused, then looked interested. "Go on."
"I started an internet information service company in Silicon Valley. You may have heard of it. It's called Ygritte. The San Francisco Chronicle happens to be in San Francisco. I'd like Ygritteto obtain part of its news content from the Chronicle."
William Randolph Hearst III showed clear hesitation.
The San Francisco Chronicle was an important Hearst paper. On the West Coast, its standing was second only to the Los Angeles Times, bringing in tens of millions of dollars in profit each year. And competition among American print outlets largely came down to exclusive stories. Sharing the Chronicle's content with Ygrittewas something Hearst would have refused immediately under normal circumstances.
But at this moment, he understood. This was the chip Westeros was offering in exchange for withdrawing from the ESPN stake bidding.
Thinking back to his discussion with Tom Murphy at the beginning of the party, and linking it to Simon's request now, Hearst could not help feeling even more displeased with the young man in front of him.
The truth was, the Hearst Group had learned about Reynolds Nabisco's plan to sell ESPN shares even earlier than Simon. They simply had not made a final decision yet when Westeros began talking with Metropolis ABC and Reynolds Nabisco about the stake.
Hearst executives had initially believed that without other competitors, they could probably squeeze the price down to under 170 million dollars. After all, not many investors were interested in a twenty percent stake that came with no voice at all.
However, because Westeros had suddenly stepped in, any offer below 200 million dollars was now something Reynolds Nabisco flatly refused to accept.
The Hearst Group's desire to buy the stake was primarily tied to a tax relief agreement they had obtained after selling part of their cable television assets earlier this year. The agreement stated that if Hearst purchased another cable television asset of the same type within one year, they could avoid paying income tax on the earlier sale.
The ESPN twenty percent stake rising from an expected 170 million dollars to 200 million dollars completely wiped out the benefit of that tax relief, which was less than 20 million dollars in tax savings. That was also why Hearst had felt the urge to leave Simon waiting when he arrived.
And now, this young man was asking for yet another price as the condition for withdrawing.
After considering it for a moment, Hearst still did not refuse outright. If Westeros did not back out soon and kept tangling with the deal, and if the news leaked, the price of that twenty percent stake would only be driven higher. "Simon, I'll need to think carefully about this."
Simon lifted his glass of red wine toward Hearst. "Of course, William. I'll be in New York for a few days, so I look forward to hearing good news."