Through connections with Stanford alumni, and also to lay groundwork for her future Chanel plans, Bella acquired full ownership of an Italian women's shoe brand called Giuseppe Zanotti.
This women's shoe brand, which opened its first boutique in 2000, was known for being sexy and wild.
Currently it operated two specialty stores—one in Milan, one in Florence.
The designer wanted more women to wear Giuseppe Zanotti shoes, wanting to expand stores and increase influence. Bella had money to invest. Both sides hit it off immediately.
She paid 13 million euros to completely acquire the brand.
She then invested another 3.5 million euros in Koenigsegg, increasing her shares in the Swedish supercar manufacturer to twelve percent.
After setting aside some money for daily expenses, she returned to ordinary student life.
The spring semester of Bella's second year at Stanford had just begun when she received somewhat unexpected news from the student council.
The school intended to establish an exchange student program with the University of Tokyo in Japan.
The University of Tokyo also had four faculties—Science, Law, Literature, and Medicine. Stanford planned to send a group of undergraduates and graduate students there to study. All expenses during the study period would be covered by the other party. That's right—tuition on both sides would be paid by the other party.
Bella felt somewhat tempted. Much of Eastern knowledge could also provide reference for her spells. Since she still couldn't develop fourth-tier spells, she felt her foundation remained insufficient. She needed to master more knowledge. Tokyo University was a good choice.
"Are you guys going?" she asked her friends.
"I don't speak Japanese." That was Heather's answer.
"Not going." Concise and to the point—that was Barbara.
Sam also indicated his studies were very demanding. To get into law school, he was practically burning the midnight oil. Where would he have spare time to go to Japan? In his view, what could you even learn in Japan? Going to Japan was just for fun.
Bella's Japanese was excellent—listening, speaking, reading, and writing all posed no problems. She could take the N1 exam directly without review and score high.
Distance was even less of an issue. From Stanford to Tokyo was closer than from Stanford to Europe.
Without another word, she signed up. Going abroad for a trip couldn't hurt, especially since she didn't have to pay.
The University of Tokyo teacher in charge of exchange students welcomed her application enthusiastically. A bestselling author's reputation proved very useful. Especially after learning through conversation that she was highly proficient in Japanese, the teacher's attentiveness knew no bounds.
Japan had a laundry list of requirements for Asian international students—Japanese test scores, economic guarantor employment certificates, ancestral tax records going back eight generations. They demanded everything, carefully reviewing each item, terrified someone might exploit a loophole.
For international students from Western circles, they also had requirements, but in actual implementation, they pretended those requirements didn't exist.
Few Americans spoke Japanese. Forget students—even many Americans working in Japan spoke English daily. They simply felt English was the world language. If you didn't speak it, they found it strange. "It's the 21st century—how can you not speak English?"
Pride was one factor, difficulty was another.
Americans learning Japanese was like Japanese people learning English—both sides found it incredibly difficult.
In the end, might makes right. Japanese people had to bite the bullet and learn English. The struggle was real...
The middle-aged female teacher in charge of exchange student affairs expressed her welcome to Bella. All review procedures were non-existent—direct approval. If she'd had the authority, she would have granted a scholarship on the spot.
Stanford students weren't enthusiastic about the University of Tokyo. After all, the university rankings differed so much—no need to run from the heights down to the depths to study. Even if they paid, people didn't want to go.
The language environment was different, living habits were different—obstacles everywhere.
The plan was to recruit one hundred exchange students. Despite great efforts, they couldn't even scrape together seventy people.
Rather than traveling with the main group, Bella took a flight alone, first playing in Hawaii for two days before heading to Japan. She would study there for two Stanford semesters and one Japanese semester—half a year total.
Boarding the flight to Tokyo, Bella quickly closed her eyes and fell into deep sleep.
Japan, Shikoku Island, Kōchi Prefecture.
On an unknown stretch of coastline stood an ancient castle from the Sengoku period.
The five-story tower keep faced the distant ocean. Opening the doors, one could almost hear waves crashing against the rocks.
Security here was tight. Numerous red-clothed ninja patrolled visibly and invisibly. They wouldn't allow any idle person to disturb the meeting of the Five Fingers.
The Five Fingers were five elders. Four hundred years ago, they escaped from the sacred land of K'un-Lun and came to Japan. They gathered the Snakeroot Clan along with numerous ninja, thieves, and assassins who'd lost their livelihoods during the Sengoku period, establishing an organization called The Hand.
All five possessed profound martial arts from K'un-Lun that could extend their lives. But four hundred years proved too long. Four of them couldn't bear their aged, decrepit bodies. Using secret techniques, they abandoned their original bodies and seized new ones.
Judging purely by appearance, The Hand's Five Fingers now consisted of people from various backgrounds.
Four were young. Only the one seated to the side was ancient, as withered as a piece of wood.
"Gao, you're truly too stubborn. Why don't you want a young body? Look at me—how strong!" He flexed his biceps.
The white-haired, parchment-skinned old woman glanced at him, her triangular eyes full of contempt. This fool—wearing a body that wasn't his own, he'd nearly lost himself to it.
She spoke slowly. "I simply don't want our four hundred years of effort to go to waste."
A woman laughed. "Gao, are you still fixated on the dragon? We lured her out of K'un-Lun. That creature already hates us. If I remember correctly, you were the one who broke her arm. Do you really think she'll grant you immortality now?"
"Open your cloudy old eyes and look. Science is the future trend. Immortality? Chi? All outdated concepts. Ha ha ha ha!"
Madame Gao remained calm, sipping her tea. "I have a way to make her give me immortality."
He laughed contemptuously. "The dragon sealed that secret realm four hundred years ago, right? Independent of time—truly impressive. That place is probably still in the Sengoku era. You've racked your brains finding spatial rifts. I heard you even threw in two batches of people to die? What's the use? You're truly senile!"
The others all thought Madame Gao's plan was wishful thinking. However, she only mobilized her direct subordinates, so they had no authority to interfere.
Am I stupid? Madame Gao lowered her head slightly, carefully observing the tea leaves dancing gracefully in her cup. She wanted the dragon, yes. But she also wanted the Black Sky—the being called Asura—that The Hand had awaited for many years!