24. The Paramount Ballroom

As soon as Zhou Hongyi made this remark, not only the blind man and his mother, but even Manyu wore an expression of surprise.

Manyu thought to herself, investing in the Paramount? This young Master Zhou certainly has a bold tongue. Does he have any idea how much manpower, material resources, and capital it takes to open a dance hall of this caliber? Furthermore, in the complex, shark-infested waters of Shanghai, money alone is far from enough; social connections are equally vital.

Seeing the skepticism in her eyes, Zhou Hongyi realized that if he wanted to impress Miss Manyu, he would have to show some real substance.

"Heh, I am well aware that our Paramount was jointly funded by Sheng Aiyi, the seventh daughter of the late Qing high official Sheng Xuanhuai, and the Huzhou tycoon Gu Liancheng. Sheng Aiyi possesses a profound family background and sharp business acumen, holding significant influence in Shanghai’s social and business circles, while Gu Liancheng provides the immense financial backing. It is only through their combined wealth and connections that the Paramount has been able to take root in such a complex city as Shanghai.

"Although the International Settlement is crowded with established entertainment venues like the Great World and Ciro’s, and newer rivals like the Yi Garden, the Metropolitan, the New Xianlin, and Venus, the Paramount remains peerless, sought after by people from all walks of life. I believe that beyond the strong capital support, a forward-thinking business philosophy is absolutely indispensable."

Hearing these words, Manyu felt a surge of admiration. Very few people knew the identities of the dance hall's backers, yet this young master spoke of them as if they were household names. Either he had done his homework thoroughly, or he was backed by a powerful family of his own.

Manyu was a shrewd woman. Her eyes darted around, and she said with a smile, "Young Master Zhou, let's not stand outside talking. Since you are interested in the Paramount, let me personally show you around today."

With that, Manyu turned to the attendant at the entrance. "Put Young Master Zhou’s admission on my tab. Sister Qingxia, given your health, perhaps you shouldn't go inside?"

The blind man’s mother hesitated for a moment, then waved her hand with a smile. "That goes without saying, that goes without saying. I won't go in. Manyu, please take good care of Young Master Zhou for me."

She exchanged a look with Zhou Hongyi, and with the support of her son, she boarded a rickshaw and slowly drifted away.

Zhou Hongyi, acting the gentleman, opened the door for Manyu and gestured for her to enter.

Manyu, clearly pleased, walked in with a cat-like grace, swaying her waist as she stepped into this opulent den of extravagance.

This was Zhou Hongyi’s first time in such a place. Although he was a transmigrator who had frequented karaoke bars and clubs in his previous life, he could not help but sigh at the sheer grandeur of the Paramount.

The building’s exterior featured a rare Art Deco style, with clean, fluid lines and a generous use of glass and metal that appeared remarkably fashionable and avant-garde for the era. Combined with the towering door frame and exquisite carvings, it exuded a unique, noble aura.

Stepping into the lobby, the first thing he saw was a massive crystal chandelier. It radiated a dazzling brilliance, illuminating the hall as if it were broad daylight. The light reflected off the marble floor, creating a magnificent and imposing atmosphere.

The walls on either side of the hall were adorned with exquisite murals and reliefs—intricate yet tasteful—a clear testament to the owner’s refined aesthetic.

"Is this your first time at our Paramount, Young Master Zhou? How does it feel?"

Manyu walked like a bewitching water snake, her hips swaying with a wide, rhythmic motion.

Zhou Hongyi, maintaining his gentlemanly composure, kept his gaze level with hers rather than letting his eyes linger where they shouldn't.

"Grand and noble, yet with an artistic flair. Quite impressive."

"You have a keen eye, Young Master Zhou. This is our lobby; further in is the dance floor. The floor of our Paramount is installed with special springs, making it an incredible experience to dance on. I have a new song to perform tonight—I hope you'll give me your opinion afterward."

As Zhou Hongyi looked around, praising the decor and design, his attention was secretly focused on the private booths nearby. In truth, what he was really interested in was Miss Manyu’s private dressing room.

"Young Master Zhou, those booths over there are private spaces reserved for guests to discuss business. The second floor is currently closed to the public; it only hosts our regulars."

Zhou Hongyi knew that the second-floor rooms were reserved for the elite, where, beyond entertainment, they conducted social networking and handled sensitive, under-the-table dealings.

As they walked, waiters and dance hostesses greeted Manyu one after another, a testament to the status of this star performer within the Paramount.

"Young Master Zhou, why don't you look around for a bit? I need to go change. The guests are arriving, and you should find a good spot to enjoy my performance later."

Zhou Hongyi bowed with gentlemanly grace. "I shall look forward to it."

As time passed, the Paramount grew increasingly crowded and lively. Zhou Hongyi watched as Manyu disappeared into the backstage area. Unable to follow her to identify her dressing room, he retreated to a corner by the bar to observe the crowd, hoping to catch a lucky glimpse of Comrade "Bodhi" and pass on the intelligence regarding the traitor's identity.

Business at the Paramount was booming. Zhou Hongyi checked his watch—it wasn't even eight o'clock, yet the place was packed. The booths nearby were full, and the private rooms were likely the same.

The women were dressed in dazzling finery, while most of the men were impeccably groomed and acted like gentlemen—though it was hard to say if that would last once they’d had a few drinks.

As the crowd swelled, the dancers, freshly dressed, emerged from the dressing rooms to find familiar patrons. They whispered and laughed with a sound like silver bells, the air thick with the scent of perfume and allure.

On stage, an international six-piece band began to play soothing music. To Zhou Hongyi's surprise, they were playing fashionable Black jazz, including several classics he recognized from his past life.

Shanghai truly earned its title as the "Paris of the East"; in terms of fashion and art, it was already at the global forefront.

As the music played, gentlemen politely offered their hands to their companions, inviting them to the floor. The women modestly placed their hands in theirs and began to waltz.

They were mostly dancing standard social dances—simple steps and turns. Zhou Hongyi watched with little interest, sipping his drink, his eyes scanning the room like a radar.

To his disappointment, none of the contacts from the Special Branch, the Military Statistics Bureau, or the Red Party had appeared. How was he supposed to connect with the Red Party liaison?

Just as he was feeling frustrated, the band stopped playing. The overhead lights shifted, and the spotlights focused on a single microphone.

Manyu, draped in an extravagant red evening gown with a fur stole over her shoulders, emerged from behind the curtains and stepped to the microphone amidst thunderous applause. It seemed she was about to sing.

The musicians began a new melody, and Manyu’s vibrant red lips parted to sing a series of lyrics that Zhou Hongyi knew all too well.

"Rose, rose, I love you..."

"So this is the song she was talking about."

As she sang, the men below appeared intoxicated, while the women’s expressions were far more complex—some showed admiration or envy, but the vast majority looked on with jealousy, some even with a hint of malice.