People were deeply curious about this mysterious man from the East—especially after seeing the film's promotional posters and the teaser Laila had personally edited. That curiosity only grew stronger.
And in the midst of all that anticipation, Leslie Cheung stepped onto the stage.
He was dressed simply today: a white suit over a deep blue shirt—colors carefully chosen for him by Janet.
White was never an easy color to pull off. It demanded the right aura and presence—arguably harder to wear well than any designer label. Yet he wore it effortlessly, the crisp white suit accentuating his calm, timeless elegance. In front of the cameras, he exuded a quiet, poetic charm—serene and ethereal.
As he walked onstage, the applause that had erupted… suddenly stopped.
Not because he was unwelcome. On the contrary, his entrance felt like he arrived on a breeze, cloaked in drifting clouds. Everyone found themselves entranced, unable to look away. It was dreamlike. Surreal.
He truly possessed a remarkable aura, as if time itself slowed around him. Just watching him gave people a sense of peace, as if all was well in the world.
The audience hadn't meant to stop clapping. They were simply too stunned to remember to clap.
Laila, sitting nearby, was among the most captivated—her gaze fixed on him, lips curled upward in admiration. To Roy, that expression almost drove him crazy. If it weren't for the occasion, he might have pulled her into his arms right then and there, kissing her senseless until her mind and eyes were filled with no one but him.
Countless viewers watching from home were equally spellbound—especially younger viewers. They found it hard to tear their eyes away from the man on the screen.
Part of this was simply due to novelty. It was the first time many were seeing him in a Western TV broadcast. With frequent appearances, some of that shock factor would likely fade. But there was no denying his command of atmosphere. Especially in a spotlighted stage, surrounded by camera flashes and attention, his presence was magnetic.
If Roy was walking pheromones, then Leslie Cheung was a bamboo standing proud in wind and snow—elegant and aloof.
One radiated raw masculine allure. The other became the focal point through sheer charisma and grace.
Who looked better? There was no definitive answer. As the saying goes, to each their own. Roy's repeated wins as "World's Sexiest Man Alive" certainly proved his undeniable charm.
"Wow," Jimmy exclaimed as he stood to shake Leslie's hand. "I think everyone here in the studio is completely blown away. Welcome, Mr. Cheung."
"Thank you. It's an honor to be on the show," Leslie replied in smooth, fluent English.
His English proficiency was well-documented. He'd released English songs and given speeches in the language before, so doing promotion or interviews in the West posed no problem for him.
After a bit of small talk, Jimmy smoothly shifted to the topic of the night.
"Leslie, I know you've probably answered this question many times already, but I have to ask again—for the sake of all the new viewers watching today."
"I'd be happy to answer," Leslie said calmly, offering a gentle smile.
"What made you accept a role in Laila's film? Was it because she has a reputation for helping her actors win awards? Or was there something else she brought to the table?"
It was a sharp question—delivered with just the right amount of tact. Risky, but nowhere near as hostile as what some media might throw at him. In fact, Jimmy had asked it intentionally—after all, pointed questions were what made good TV.
With Laila's reputation for award-winning films, it was natural for people to speculate: was this Eastern newcomer just chasing trophies?
It wasn't an easy question to answer.
If Leslie said "yes," he'd risk sounding greedy or calculating. Even if most actors did want awards, being too blunt about it could leave a bad impression.
But if he said "no," he'd come across as insincere. People already had their own assumptions—and a flat denial wouldn't change that.
Laila sat quietly with a serene smile, offering no help. She knew better. Jumping in to "save" him would only make things worse. Besides, a man who'd spent so many years in showbiz? Of course, he knew how to handle reporters and tricky interviews. She had full faith in him.
Roy, however, couldn't help glancing at her several times in confusion. With how much she doted on her so-called "idol," how could she let Jimmy throw that kind of question at him? Wasn't she worried he'd mess up the answer and upset the audience?
But just as Roy was puzzling over it, Leslie responded.
"This is actually my second time working with Director Moran," he said slowly. "Our last collaboration was very pleasant. I believe she saw something in me that fit the role she had in mind—and that's why she invited me to work with her again."
In one sentence, he passed the ball neatly into Laila's court.
She had chosen him. If anyone had questions, they should ask her.
Under other circumstances, such a move would be seen as dodging responsibility. But this time, it was a clever move. Why?
Because he'd done a fantastic job in the role. Once the film was released and audiences saw how perfectly he fit the character, they'd only praise Laila for her casting instincts.
As for why he, an Eastern actor, was able to deliver such a powerful performance—well, most people would credit Laila's eye for talent, rather than attribute it to Leslie himself. That might be unfair, even frustrating—but that was the reality of the times. Racial bias didn't vanish overnight. It would take time and progress to erode those old habits.
Still, as an Eastern actor, Leslie had his own pride. He would never grovel or downplay himself for the sake of acceptance.
Yes, he fit the role—but the reason the character came to life was also because of his acting. Who could deny that?
And his answer had a hidden trap.
Everyone knew Laila was an expert at casting. So if anyone kept questioning why he had been chosen—well, were they implying Laila had made a mistake?
Had she ever cast the wrong actor?
The answer was obvious. Even her industry rivals wouldn't dare claim Laila made poor casting choices.
So if you doubted Leslie's acting, you were effectively doubting Laila Moran—a woman who had made history in Hollywood.
Would Jimmy challenge her? Of course not. Even if he wanted a spicier interview, he'd never position himself against Laila.
Forget the fact that she was potentially NBC's future owner—just her clout in the film industry alone made her untouchable.