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Katharine soon came up with an idea and spoke up.
"Little Henry, if you really want to help Charlize, don't you think you yourself are the strongest backing she could possibly have?
"Didn't Tony hope you'd take over as CEO of Stark Pictures? Sure, it can't compare to the Big Eight of this era, and it's not even on par with second-tier film studios.
"But that's only because Stark Pictures hasn't been focused on film production. Once you take charge, you could personally greenlight a film to push someone. Wouldn't that be far better than having an agent search blindly for opportunities?"
Charlize Theron was so shocked she couldn't say a word. Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, her mouth opening and closing, unsure how to respond.
Even Henry, faced with Katharine bringing this up again, found himself momentarily speechless.
So after going in circles, had Sun Wukong once again ended up in the Buddha's palm?
This was indeed a viable option—one Henry had considered before. But that idea had only surfaced for a fleeting moment before he immediately suppressed it himself.
Back at the beginning of the year, that invitation had ended on an awkward note. Though he hadn't explicitly accepted or rejected it, things had clearly fizzled out. Naturally, Henry had stopped thinking about it.
Even if he were to swallow his pride now and go back to that man—who knew whether Tony would still be willing to offer him the position?
But times change.
Henry had never been stingy about assuming the worst when it came to human nature. Pride and dignity weren't things he cared about much. In the jianghu, people who fight for pride are respectable types; those who fight for a moment of incense are Buddhas and bodhisattvas. As a barefoot man, why fight for that?
When it's time to kneel, you kneel smoothly. If you can make money, there's no shame in it. But if you let someone slap you around and gain nothing in return—that's just taking a beating for free.
Thinking of a certain possibility, Henry asked,
"Katharine… was it Tony who asked you to bring this up to me again?"
The old lady shook her head.
"No. I was just curious. He offered you this opportunity at the start of the year, but I haven't heard anything since. Is there some unresolved issue between you two?"
Henry sniffed the aroma rising from the decanter, then topped off all three glasses with the rare wine and took a large sip himself.
Uncertain how much Katharine knew—and judging by Tony's attitude back then, probably not much—Henry chose his words carefully.
"I did raise some conditions and concerns with Tony. After that, there was no response.
"I suppose no response can itself be a response. I naturally wouldn't disturb such a busy man again. He and I live in two different worlds—there was never going to be much overlap."
As he said this, another thought crossed Henry's mind.
Was Katharine bringing this up also her way of subtly expressing her own stance?
When someone wants to refuse something but doesn't want to say no outright, they often propose difficult conditions instead—hoping the other party will back off.
Just like how Henry had raised all those doubts and questions to Tony Stark back then—wasn't that also his way of hoping the young master would abandon his unrealistic idea and stop dragging Henry into it?
The wine in his glass was an unparalleled treasure, yet somehow it tasted dull and lifeless.
Perhaps Henry's mood was written plainly on his face, because Katharine flicked his forehead without warning.
"You look like you're overthinking something extremely rude. Don't ruin my good wine with such a gloomy mood."
"Katharine…" Henry clutched his forehead pitifully, staring at the sharp-tongued old lady.
"I pity the fact that the Stark family has only little Tony left," she continued.
"And with his awful personality, he's destined to have very few friends. From my perspective, I want you to help him."
"How could I possibly help him?" Henry shot back. "Trigger an early heart attack? If that were an option, I'm sure he'd be delighted to shoot me in the head and send me back into God's embrace."
"Precisely because of that," Katharine said calmly, "I think a friend like you is very important to him."
Henry reached out and pressed a hand against her forehead.
"Katharine, do you have a fever?"
She slapped his hand away irritably and said seriously,
"You don't understand. People like him have very few friends willing to speak the truth to them. Most are just sycophants who flatter and grovel.
"Howard was so captivated by me back then precisely because I dared to speak honestly in front of him. I wasn't like those other girls who only nodded and agreed, never daring to express their own opinions.
"Of course, young Howard was hopeless—never learned his lesson. You could punch him, and three days later he'd act like nothing happened, just as reckless as ever. It wasn't until after Tony was born that he became a bit more steady.
"What I'm saying is, I don't know where you got the nerve to make the Starks lose face. But at the very least, the things you said to him could cool down their brainless enthusiasm and make them view matters more rationally.
"If this were the past, when only he needed you, perhaps I shouldn't be saying this. But now, you seem to need him as well. So why can't the two of you work together and get what you each need? I thought you understood this sort of thing very well."
Why did he dare to make the Starks lose face?
Thinking back on his attitude toward the X-Men—regardless of how they'd initially treated him—his own reactions had indeed been overly intense and discourteous.
Why was that?
Reflecting on it now, wasn't it because he'd seen through the "superhero" component in their personalities? They always acted with a bottom line, a moral boundary. Knowing that, he'd dared to offend them freely, because he roughly knew where that line was.
By contrast, when dealing with opponents whose limits he didn't understand, he softened his attitude considerably. As long as they didn't cross his bottom line, he didn't much care what they did.
That… did carry a hint of bullying the soft and fearing the hard.
So when he constantly sniped at Tony Stark—was it genuine dislike? Or simply resentment of the rich?
Or perhaps… a foolish sense of self-satisfaction, believing that because he stood in a position to criticize superheroes, even hold their lives in his hands, he was somehow more noble than them.
That realization made Henry sigh softly.
"Katharine, could I trouble you to set up a meeting with that young master? I'm afraid if I call him myself, he might just ignore me outright."
Seeing Henry finally show a willingness to yield, Katharine was delighted.
"Of course. I'll call him and have him come see you in the next few days.
"Are you in a hurry to return to Los Angeles? If not, stay here. I have guest rooms—much more comfortable than a hotel or some rundown inn. The only condition is that you help look after an old lady.
"I imagine the two of you sharing one room will be enough, right?"
The old lady gave them a knowing, auntie-like smile, her eyebrows lifting teasingly.
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