"That dancer with the peacock headdress over there—can you do that move?" Natasha whispered.
Honestly, without specific hard training, relying solely on physical fitness to force many dance moves was actually a bit difficult. Bella didn't think she needed to learn dancing, so she curled her lips and didn't speak.
The big show ended, and the two returned to the hotel. The somewhat competitive Natasha insisted on imitating those dancers. Bella, utterly helpless, could only serve as a prop.
"Gently! Let me breathe... you're crushing me!"
"We're practicing by ourselves; why are you wearing high heels?! Take your shoes off!"
"Ouch, ouch, my waist!"
...
The next day, they visited the Seine River and saw the very famous Pont Alexandre III.
Honestly, the Seine was illustrious, but it looked rather ordinary in reality. From the Pont Alexandre III, with its total length of just over a hundred meters, one could tell how wide the river surface was.
It was just a small bridge, though the decorations on the deck were very beautiful.
Mentioning the Seine, one had to mention the Parisian café culture.
Many artists and thinkers liked to drink coffee on the Left Bank of the Seine. Famous figures like Hemingway or Picasso would often come to the Left Bank to hang out in cafés and spend the entire day there.
The Right Bank, on the other hand, was home to a large number of entrepreneurs and politicians. Paris had a saying: The Left Bank uses brains; the Right Bank uses money.
Natasha's perception of the arts was just average. The two drank coffee at the famous Café de Flore. The desserts were nice, and the consumption of 15 Euros per person was considered standard.
The two didn't feel much romantic sentiment, so in the afternoon, they went to visit the Paris Motor Show.
It could be seen that tourists weren't too interested in art pieces right now. There weren't many people at those literary attractions, but the car show was a sea of people. It was packed shoulder to shoulder, almost as much as the Lido Show last night.
The public days of the Paris Motor Show didn't have car models. Major car manufacturers didn't need this to promote themselves; tourists came to see the cars. Models only appeared on Media Day.
Bella and Natasha followed the dense crowd inside, chatting occasionally.
Both of them were broke, the type who only looked but never bought.
Bella's understanding of cars was just average. Most of the time, she listened to Natasha chattering and introducing them to her.
For example, how awesome this car's suspension system was, or how much horsepower that car's engine could reach.
Anyway, Shaw had her own supernatural car repair method. Bella basically never cared about the specific condition of the vehicle. If a single slap on the hood can fix it, why bother studying how it works?
Facing Natasha's explanation at this moment, she could only perfunctory agree: "Mm, mm, indeed amazing!" "Really good, really good."
Having no interest in art but being quite keen on mechanics, Natasha was in high spirits.
"So many people over there! Let's go take a look!" Bella was dragged to the East Hall. There were even more people here, and one of the booths attracted the attention of most tourists.
A silver-gray sports car was parked quietly on the stand. Tourists around whispered exchanges from time to time, while more people picked up cameras to take pictures.
The first impression this car gave was beauty—fluid lines, elegant and grand. The little beauty Natasha couldn't take her eyes off it.
Bella's first impression of this car was also very good, and the logo looked a bit familiar. What car is this again? She looked at the French introduction on the side. Koenigsegg? The top Swedish sports car manufacturer, Koenigsegg?!
The first reaction in her heart was: Can't afford it! Goodbye!
But then she woke up. What year is it now? It's 2001. Koenigsegg shouldn't have made it big yet, right?
"Let's look a bit more. Wait, wait."
Bella held back Natasha, whose enthusiasm tended to flare up and vanish just as fast. The two stood at the Koenigsegg booth to continue watching.
"You don't want to buy it, do you? Is it going to be a gift for me? Bella, I love you to death!" Natasha rolled her eyes twice, then hugged Bella's waist enthusiastically, rubbing her head against Bella's chest.
"Don't fuss, I'm just looking..."
"You flat-chested cheapskate!"
Bella was currently still in the observation stage. Some tourists had the intention to purchase, but after asking the person in charge of Koenigsegg—who was also the company founder, a bald middle-aged man—they left the booth with regret one by one.
Koenigsegg's silver-gray sports car, the Koenigsegg CC, was only for exhibition, not for sale. As soon as this sentence came out, it instantly drove away more than fifty percent of the tourists.
Only for looking, not for selling? Then what's the point of exhibiting it!
A portion of the remaining people prepared to invest in this sports car manufacturing company. But upon learning that Koenigsegg was supplied with parts by dozens of small Swedish processing enterprises, and currently the company only had four engineers, two engine assemblers, and five general assemblers responsible for the assembly and manufacturing of the whole vehicle, they were all dumbfounded.
In total, that was just eleven people! Twelve including the boss. You're not forming a football team! How long does it take for this few people to assemble a sports car?
The bald person in charge, company founder Christian von Koenigsegg, had expected this. He answered questions from all sides frankly.
Someone asked: Does your Koenigsegg company have a complete car production line? The bald person in charge answered: Still under construction!
Someone else asked: Does your Koenigsegg company plan to absorb more workers and expand production scale?
The bald person in charge went on and on about his company's philosophy. The core meaning was one thing: We want to make the fastest sports car in the world. Selling is just incidental. If someone wants to buy, in order to put food on the table, we can take the time to make two cars to sell. If no one buys, it doesn't matter!
This laid-back, almost indifferent attitude scared away more than half of the investors.
The remaining part shook their heads and sighed. The sports cars manufactured by Koenigsegg were truly good; those engineers were top figures in the small circle of sports car manufacturing.
The car had also appeared in some public occasions, and the data in all aspects was extremely perfect. But the company's philosophy made investors shy away. Pouring in a large sum of money and not seeing any profit for seven or eight years—who could stomach that?
After watching for more than an hour, Natasha also saw some clues: "You don't want to invest in this Swedish company, do you?"
Bella certainly wanted to invest. Koenigsegg, the world's top sports car manufacturer! If she had such a sports car manufacturer under her name, just thinking about it was cool. Several tech otaku looked more honest than Wall Street elites or Silicon Valley elites; they wouldn't take her investment on the first day and kick her out on the second.
But she had no money right now...
Rubbing salt in the wound, Natasha asked cheerfully: "Do you have money? I still have five hundred dollars here; I can lend it to you."
Your five hundred dollars can buy at most two Michelin tires! Bella rolled her eyes and didn't speak to her cheap sister's teasing.