Who would be second and third?

Professor McCarthy didn’t care much. Once he had confirmed who was the best, his mission was accomplished. Who came second or third wasn’t important!

Fifty thousand dollars was quite a substantial sum.

The C·W competition format was worth promoting next year. Architecture students weren’t usually as active as students from other majors, but this competition motivated them while testing their abilities.

For instance, how his current semester’s students performed and how far they advanced in the C·W Architectural Design Competition would be quite telling—an architecture student who couldn’t even grasp “structural elements” would struggle to reach the finals, as designs full of errors would have been eliminated by the jury early on!

While his colleague Professor Lipton was still debating with two judges from the firm, Professor McCarthy had already retreated into his world.

Cornell’s School of Architecture arranged shuttle buses to transport all qualifying students and interested faculty members to New York.

Students who hadn’t qualified could still make their way to the Wilson Hotel in Queens, New York if they were interested.

The hotel had prepared the venue well in advance.

Notably, the venue setup and awards ceremony arrangements were handled by Cornell University’s Hotel Management students—this was a true deep collaboration.

Unfortunately, the organic ingredients facility partnership with the Agriculture College hadn’t yielded produce in such a short time, and the Agriculture College regretted not being able to participate in the C·W Architectural Design Competition awards ceremony.

To increase the C·W Architectural Design Competition’s influence, Wilson Hotel contacted reporters and TV stations for coverage—not to promote the competition itself, but to publicize Wilson Hotel’s new establishment planned for Washington.

“An architecture competition? It’s not a beauty pageant—what’s worth reporting?”

The newspaper reporters couldn’t see any news value in the competition, thinking about those straight-laced architects who spoke only in technical terms.

The C·W Architectural Design Competition was new this year, lacking reputation and influence beyond Cornell’s Architecture School… If not for Wilson Hotel’s capital involvement, it would have attracted most of Cornell University’s internal publication reporters or local Ithaca TV stations.

New York newspapers and TV stations wouldn’t have shown interest otherwise.

As reporters grumbled privately, a veteran reporter consoled everyone:

“The competition itself might not be newsworthy, but I heard Wilson Hotel’s owner will appear at the awards ceremony. Have you all forgotten last year’s embezzlement scandal at Wilson Hotel?”

“The lawsuit’s over, that vice president’s already in prison—where’s the news value in that?”

“That vice president was incredibly bold, nearly $20 million in company assets… Almost bankrupted Wilson Hotel.”

The veteran reporter seemed to know some inside information:

“Wilson Hotel isn’t the real story. You should think about how to interview the hotel’s owner, Harold Wilson—he’s always avoided media coverage.”

Wilson Hotel was just one of the Wilson family’s enterprises.

The Wilson family’s total wealth remained undisclosed by all family members.

The veteran reporter found it newsworthy that Harold Wilson, as old Wilson’s youngest son, had surpassed his siblings to become the Wilson family’s leader. He had managed the family assets well over the years, though spreading operations worldwide had led to oversight issues. Last year, a vice president nearly crashed the Wilson Hotel—Mr. Harold must have many thoughts about that!

It would be great to interview him.

Even better to discuss that incident.

As reporters whispered among themselves, attending students were also chatting.

Daisy tugged at her T-shirt, “If I’d known the venue would be this luxurious, I should have worn formal attire.”

They rarely had chances to visit five-star hotels.

Jonathan and his group seemed to have anticipated today’s special occasion, all wearing formal attire. When Daisy’s group boarded the shuttle, they sensed something was amiss, but there wasn’t time to return and change clothes before being transported to Queens, New York.

“Relax, Daisy. I don’t think Xia will wear formal attire either.”

Xia Xiaolan had always encouraged her team members to stay relaxed—just be happy about qualifying and wait to receive the award.

Daisy craned her neck, hoping Xia Xiaolan would appear soon.

“Did you see Daniel and his group in the venue?”

Richard and Lyle naturally noticed Cornell University’s notable figures. Daniel seemed to be managing today’s venue affairs, assisted by Nancy, who had interned at Wilson Hotel during the break.

For Daniel and Nancy’s group, the architecture school’s awards ceremony was also quite an important test.

Nancy approached Daniel, “Looking for Xia, or wanting to see her Chinese boyfriend? You’ll definitely see him today—Xia has a good chance of winning, how could her boyfriend not be here to support her!”

Daniel glanced at Nancy; no one would think she was mute if she didn’t speak.

“Go check zone four, there will be a buffet after the awards ceremony.”

Nancy pouted.

“Yes, sir!”

She was Daniel’s assistant after all.

Before leaving, Nancy glanced once more at the entrance. A man and woman had just entered—while the woman was beautiful and striking, the man also commanded attention. Nancy excitedly turned back:

“Hey Daniel, that’s your love rival!”

Daniel’s expression immediately soured.

He felt Nancy had shouted too loudly—many people had heard!

Was this something to be proud of?

That Chinese man hadn’t even given him a chance to ask Xia out.

Daniel looked over; Zhou Cheng was different from what he’d imagined—nothing like an American soldier, nor like the stereotypical rigid Chinese person.

He was handsome, certainly.

But Daniel wasn’t far behind, right?

Xia’s interest in this man wasn’t just about looks.

In a private suite at the hotel, Harold was selecting clothes.

The black suit was too somber, too mature.

Royal blue was too flashy, unsuitable for today’s occasion.

After much consideration, he chose a gray suit with a white shirt and light-colored tie. Looking in the mirror, he seemed to have shed a few years.

“Allen, I’ll take this set.”

Butler Allen walked in smiling, “Very well, sir, but there’s something I should report—someone just saw Miss Xia arrive at the venue, accompanied by a young, handsome Chinese gentleman. Are you sure you want this outfit?”

A young, handsome Chinese gentleman?

With Xia Xiaolan’s unromantic personality, would she bring a male companion to the awards?

It must be a Cornell University classmate, or perhaps some Chinese student also in New York… Still, this wasn’t pleasant news.

Harold reached for the initial black suit.

“I’ll take this one.”

Those young boys don’t know what makes a real man!