Many people were in Shangdu.

Xia Xiaolan’s treatment was certainly that of a star architect.

The AIA representatives, led by Frank, were in Shangdu.

Reporters from “Domus” and those who had rushed directly from Japan’s “A+U” magazine to Shangdu – with so many people watching her design the museum, no one could say her status was insignificant.

This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, a perfect chance for a new Chinese architect to gain international fame.

Winning the lawsuit had made her famous in New York.

But if she truly succeeded with this museum design, she could become renowned throughout the international architectural circle.

Like a sharp sword, unstoppable!

Even Mond Dawson couldn’t prevent the rise of this new star architect.

Mond must be suffering now – his attempt to harm Xia Xiaolan had failed, and once she rose to fame, he would have to constantly guard against her revenge!

Xia Xiaolan was surveying the site at Erqi Square.

The land Xu Zhongyi had purchased had already been cleared for the museum construction.

Relying solely on her feet, Xia Xiaolan measured every corner of the land. Though this wouldn’t yield accurate data, she simply wanted to personally experience how future museum visitors would walk through the space.

Architecture must be people-oriented, always considering the human experience.

It was similar to doing business – if you don’t treat customers like gods and wholeheartedly consider their needs, why should they choose your products?

Customers can be guided and attracted through various promotional methods, but retaining them depends on product quality and service attitude.

The same applies to museums.

If this museum were to stand in Shangdu for many years, countless citizens and tourists would visit it.

Those who visit the Shangdu Museum will also visit other museums.

Xia Xiaolan wasn’t aiming to build the biggest or most luxurious museum, but rather one that was comfortable and distinctive. No matter how many museums people visit in their lifetime, they won’t forget this museum in Shangdu… This was what an architect should do – integrating professional knowledge to design something impressive and beautiful, making it meaningful work.

Perhaps more meaningful than developing numerous residential complexes.

Hearing that Xia Xiaolan was in Shangdu and coincidentally near Erqi Square, Zhu Suizhou came to see her.

Xia Xiaolan wasn’t particularly enthusiastic.

Du Zhaoji happened to be in Pengcheng. After their previous unpleasant parting, he hadn’t given up on the idea of creating the Asia chain.

Du Zhaoji also came to find Xia Xiaolan.

Xia Xiaolan showed equally little enthusiasm.

As Du Zhaoji’s anger flared, Frank held him back:

“You shouldn’t disturb her. Xia is doing something very important, her mind is completely focused on this matter, and she can’t attend to anything else! Hey, sir, do you understand? Artistic inspiration strikes like lightning – your interruption might prevent the birth of a masterpiece!”

Was that too dramatic?

Du Zhaoji snorted in derision.

To him, Xia Xiaolan was a cunning, domineering business rival. For someone like her, the only “art” she’d be interested in wasn’t architectural design, but drawing new patterns for banknotes on paper.

Du Zhaoji didn’t believe Xia Xiaolan could be completely immersed in architectural design.

But with Frank blocking him, reporters from “Domus” and “A+U” watching, and a group of seemingly poor people glaring at him… was it necessary? Was seeking out Xia Xiaolan for business matters such an unforgivable disturbance?

Xia Xiaolan was crouching on the ground mysteriously, completely disregarding her image and status.

Du Zhaoji was momentarily speechless.

She seemed truly possessed!

Du Zhaoji left in a huff.

No one tried to stop him.

This group only cared about what kind of work Xia Xiaolan would ultimately create. “Creation” was a private matter – whether colleagues or ordinary people, they could only see the result, rarely witnessing the creative process.

Xia Xiaolan’s approach to the AIA appeal was quite innovative.

Du Zhaoji wouldn’t know that besides the reporters and AIA people, the group of “seemingly poor people” gathered here were all architects.

The first to arrive were from the Yunan Provincial Design Institute.

People from the Chinese Architectural Society also wanted to observe.

None of them had opportunities like Xia Xiaolan’s. If they had such chances, their achievements might not have been limited to their current status, not just confined to China.

This wasn’t something an individual could decide.

Personal talent was one factor, but they also hadn’t been born in such favorable times.

China’s window to the international architectural circle had opened!

Were they envious?

Extremely so.

Jealous?

A little bit.

But jealousy couldn’t justify sabotage. This was an opportunity for Chinese architects to enter the international architectural circle and gain mainstream and cutting-edge recognition.

They stood by, neither disturbing nor interfering.

They couldn’t disrupt Xia Xiaolan’s train of thought, and if she had any questions, they were willing to help.

No matter how talented, Xia Xiaolan’s age meant she had certain limitations.

Yes, Xia Xiaolan had no assistants.

She alone had to complete an entire team’s work, designing a museum! Though there was no time limit for such a demanding task, with foreign journals documenting the process, naturally, the sooner it was completed, the better.

These people hoped Xia Xiaolan could work quickly, showing foreign reporters the capability of Chinese architects.

Yet they worried her young shoulders couldn’t bear such a burden. If she collapsed, what then? It would be an international embarrassment.

But Xia Xiaolan didn’t care what others thought.

She knew Zhu Suizhou had come, and she knew Du Zhaoji had come, but she had no interest in social niceties.

This feeling was extraordinary.

Setting everything aside, wholly immerses herself in experiencing Shangdu as a city.

She wandered the site, then roamed the entire city.

She randomly found shops and sat down to drink Hulatang soup.

Wherever she went, a group followed, watching her chat with elderly Shangdu residents about the past, with young locals – men, women, and innocent children.

Frank followed Xia Xiaolan, eating wherever she ate.

Slurping Hulatang soup and struggling with chopsticks over lamb noodles, Frank mumbled:

“She’s dialoguing with the city…”

How could someone talk to a city? A city was an inanimate object that couldn’t speak.

No, that wasn’t right.

Though cities couldn’t speak, people’s living imprints were etched in every corner.

The architecture here, the local customs, the dialects and colloquialisms, the unique cuisine – all were the city telling its story. Places where people gather become cities. Good architecture serves people’s various needs.

Shangdu was the railway hub of the Central Plains region.

Xia Xiaolan walked along the railway for two more days, observing both the city and the landscapes where the tracks extended.

Leading a large group along the tracks, passing trains grew nervous, fearing they were train-hoppers, worried about fatalities – so dangerous!

Thus, Xia Xiaolan traversed all of Shangdu.

One noon during lunch, she seemed to suddenly awaken, breaking from that trance-like state, and looked at the group of dining companions around her:

“…Why are so many people eating with me? Who’s been paying for meals these past two days?”