From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

“… Slow down, keep the rhythm, slowly, yes, slowly.”

“You can't mechanically repeat the movements. You need to feel the changes in your back muscles, tighten and relax, feel the muscles. You need to establish a connection between your body and brain, not just for recovery, but also to familiarize yourself with your body.”

“Hold, hold.”

“Remember to breathe, evenly, smoothly.”

Nearby, the physical therapist was helping Anson with his rehabilitation at a steady pace.

The seemingly simple and gentle movements required strong control and absolute concentration. Anson, lying face down with his limbs raised, doing the airplane pose, was sweating profusely, large drops of sweat sliding down his cheeks. Despite trying his best to keep his breathing steady, he still found it slightly difficult.

Especially when the physical therapist kept asking Anson to feel his muscles, it became even more difficult—

Feel? How to feel?

Poof.

In the end, Anson couldn't control himself and broke down because of laughter. His limbs gave out, and he collapsed directly onto the yoga mat, burying his face.

The physical therapist looked at Anson's gently shaking shoulders, his expression slightly worried, concerned that the training intensity had reached its limit.

Didn't he see that Anson's muscles were uncontrollably trembling?

“Anson, are you okay?”

Poof, hahaha.

Anson couldn't hold back any longer and burst out laughing. He turned his head to look at the physical therapist, “Sorry, please forgive me.”

“I, I know it's impolite, but I really don't know how to establish a connection between my body and brain. Have you studied Indian yoga?”

The physical therapist immediately understood, “Anson, now is not the time to joke.”

He paused for a moment, “You're not using jokes to cover up the fact that you're secretly resting, are you?”

Anson's eyes darted around, “Ah, my back, my back…”

He turned his head again, face down, his hands neatly placed on both sides of his thighs, lying obediently.

The physical therapist was already used to it, “Rest for thirty seconds. One last set.”

Anson let out a muffled wail, “You just said that was the last set. We've repeated this last set three hundred and thirty-three times. Is this some Groundhog Day time loop?”

Physical therapist, “Really the last set. After it's over, there's a lollipop.”

Anson protested, “A lollipop and a bag of chips are basically the same thing.”

Physical therapist, “… A bag of chips. But you can't keep it a secret from Lucas.”

Anson, “How about this, I'll just finish eating it here, and then you tell Lucas?”

Physical therapist: …

Anson looked at that expressionless face that inadvertently revealed a hint of helplessness, and smiled, “I'm rested, let's start right away. You just said the last set?”

The physical therapist looked at Anson, who was full of energy and not tired at all. Although he had been reminding himself every day for the past twenty days, he would still be shocked again inadvertently:

So Anson is an actor.

That superb acting skill simply played him around every time; but the point is, he didn't hate it at all, but felt it was real.

Completely different from the image seen on movie and TV screens, not a glamorous fictional character, but a real existence with flesh and blood in life.

In fact, Hollywood superstars are just ordinary people like them.

When ordinary people realize this, they often become timid because the actor's halo disappears; but for him, this is the moment when the actor is re-injected with a brand new charm.

“Yes, the last set, but this time, we'll change the movement a little bit and increase the intensity a little bit.”

Anson immediately became alert, “A little bit, are you sure it's just a little bit?”

The physical therapist looked serious, “Really.”

Five minutes later, Anson lay on the yoga mat like a dead fish, covered in sweat, without even the strength to speak—

One set, indeed only one set, but a set with three times the intensity and quality.

The physical therapist was still calm, gently patted Anson's shoulder, “Very good, the last set has also been successfully completed. Reward one star.”

Anson: …

Seeing that the physical therapist was about to leave, Anson remembered something important.

“Chips, my chips.”

Before Anson could get up, a pair of tender yellow strappy high heels appeared directly in front of him. The fair and delicate skin seemed to be shimmering, and he could vaguely see the white gauze skirt swaying gently above. Then, she bent down and placed the chips in front of Anson.

Anson raised his head with a confused look, and then he saw Anne Hathaway's face, which was struggling to suppress her laughter, pursing her lips tightly.

Anson lowered his head again, resting his forehead on the yoga mat, silent.

Seeing this, the smile in Anne's eyes deepened, but she quickly controlled herself, “I didn't see anything, really.”

Anson had already recovered, and stood up nimbly, “Then that means you saw everything, right? Where to start?”

Anson stood up, picked up a towel from the side, and quickly wiped away the sweat.

Anne felt a little relieved, “It seems that you still have energy left, that therapist is right.”

Anson immediately turned around, “Shhh. Don't let that guy hear, otherwise it'll be doubled tomorrow. He doesn't like people challenging his authority the most. If I say I can handle it, he will definitely continue to challenge the limit.”

Anne had never seen this side of Anson, and the smile on her face fully bloomed, “Does this mean that you have almost recovered?”

Anson wiped away the sweat, took the chips from Anne's hand, skillfully opened them, and handed them over.

Anne waved her hands repeatedly, “You worked so hard to earn these chips, you should enjoy them.”

Anson, “Oops, you saw all the rogue-like appearances just now, should I seriously consider the matter of silencing you?”

Anne burst out laughing directly.

Anson's eyebrows also raised, “Since it was earned so hard, then it should be shared with friends. Happiness can only evolve into twice as much after sharing, right?”

Anson looked at Anne.

“Wait, or are you controlling your diet and can't eat chips? Look at me, I forgot how harsh Hollywood is on actresses.”

Anne waved her hands repeatedly, took out a small stack of chips from the bag and put them in her palm, throwing them into her mouth one by one, “No, I do need to control my diet, but I'm not always so well-behaved.”

“A little candy, or a small glass of beer, shhh, we should keep it a secret.”

Anne also teased.

“What's more, Hollywood is just as harsh on male actors, where are your six-pack abs?”

“I guess there should be a scene in 'Spider-Man 2' where you take off your shirt for no reason, right?”

Anson looked serious, “So, are you looking forward to it?”

Anne was caught off guard, her cheeks turned red, and she didn't know how to respond.

Anson noticed, “Oh, sorry, I didn't mean that, really, I just…” He casually teased, “Or are you really looking forward to it?”

Anne almost choked on her saliva, “I didn't expect you to be this kind of Anson!”

Anson raised his hands in surrender, “This proves once again that I am an excellent actor, and it is a waste of talent to be used as a vase. Please remember, all men are wolves in different clothing.”

Anne, “Haha, hahaha.” Looking at Anson, her smile fully bloomed.