From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

"Anson… … You, you really don't remember?"

Lucas asked.

That look in his eyes held too many emotions: timidity and hesitation, fear and anxiety, fragility and sadness. It was difficult to accurately distinguish them all at once, yet one could clearly feel the mixture of emotions churning within him, causing him to toss and turn in the fires of hell, never finding peace.

Anson met Lucas's gaze frankly and nodded heavily.

"Yeah. I don't remember anything."

Lucas was stunned.

"The things you just described, I have no impression of at all. It's like listening to someone else's story. Honestly, if it weren't for your credibility, I might think you were talking nonsense, because there isn't a single fragment in my mind that can confirm that those things happened to me."

Anson breathed a sigh of relief.

Although the Woods had never blamed Lucas, Lucas couldn't forgive himself.

Lucas scratched the corner of his eye, "Sometimes, I wish they would blame me, but they don't. They just pretend it never happened."

And so, the wound remained there—

Suppurating. Inflamed. Yet never healing.

Not only Lucas, but the Woods too. They did everything they could to maintain a harmonious daily life, afraid to stop or examine the wound, lest a little relaxation would cause their life to fall apart.

Therefore, they doted on Anson in an almost unreasonable way.

Anson was the key to maintaining the balance of everything before them.

He was there, they were all there; but what if he wasn't?

It was hard to imagine what the Wood family would be like now if Anson Wood had really closed his eyes forever in that bathroom stall.

Thinking of this, Anson felt a little sad, and also a little jealous.

In his previous life, this was what he had dreamed of. He wasn't afraid of losing his family fortune, nor was he afraid of falling to the bottom. Even in endless darkness and despair, as long as his family protected each other, there would be hope.

However, he didn't have it.

His father disappeared without a trace, and he never saw him again, not even knowing if he was dead or alive.

He tried to convince himself that his father was thinking of them, avoiding implicating them, and that he should have positive thoughts; but as time went on, he no longer had the time or energy to think about his father.

His mother did try to help, and wholeheartedly protected him, but she couldn't really help, only hoping day and night that his father would come back.

And then… then things would all be miraculously better.

Closing his eyes, the memories of his previous life surged back like a tide.

But soon, Anson controlled himself.

He had promised himself not to dwell on the past and to firmly grasp the present.

He wanted to enjoy this opportunity.

"Lucas."

Lucas didn't look up, but Anson didn't give up, just waiting stubbornly, letting the silence spread.

Until Lucas noticed something was wrong, looked up, and saw Anson's eyes full of smiles.

"It's all in the past."

Anson looked directly into Lucas's eyes.

"You shouldn't continue to punish yourself."

"Look, I don't remember anything, not a single memory in my mind. I've already moved on, but you're still trapped in the past."

Perhaps, now is the time to let go.

Lucas still didn't react, his mind crowded with a jumble of thoughts, his reaction speed unable to keep up for a moment, his whole person a little dazed.

If Anson really couldn't remember anything, completely forgetting the past and continuing to live, that would indeed be a good thing, those memories buried in the ashes of time.

But why couldn't Lucas be happy?

"No."

Lucas finally found his thoughts, grasping the key points in the chaos.

"No, no, no, you're lying."

"You just haven't remembered it yet. In fact, those nightmares have been lurking deep in your subconscious, haven't they?"

"That's why we're talking today. You ultimately can't ignore those hints and those anxieties."

"If you really didn't have any memories, you wouldn't even ask."

Lucas stared intently at Anson, his deep eyes emitting a faint light in the darkness, locking onto Anson tightly with a sense of unease and tension, not letting any trace of abnormality escape his eyes.

The night couldn't hide his gaze; instead, one could clearly feel the crisis of being firmly locked on, a powerful aura rushing towards them.

Anson breathed a sigh of relief, the upward curve of his mouth revealing a hint of helplessness.

"Ah, Lucas, you're too smart, you can't be fooled."

Lucas choked, suppressing his voice and scolding softly, "Anson!"

Anson waved his hand, "Considering my hard work in juggling and entertaining you, you should at least give me some applause."

Lucas stared at Anson without blinking.

Anson surrendered, muttering a complaint, "You really have no sense of humor at all."

Before Lucas could protest, Anson immediately changed the subject.

"Not having memories, that's true."

"Nightmares lurking, that's also true."

"I don't know how to accurately describe it. Even though you just said so much, I still don't feel anything. It doesn't feel like something I experienced myself at all. Those ten days of memories are still a blank slate."

"It's just…"

"It's just that sometimes, I feel a sudden sense of panic, or unease, as if in a dream, an unknown fear is chasing me."

"I can ignore it, because it doesn't affect my daily life."

"But, I don't want to."

Anson paused, thought carefully, and then nodded gently.

"Yeah, I don't want to."

In his previous life, he had experienced everything he should have experienced and everything he shouldn't have experienced. He had struggled in the vortex of emotions and the waves of suffering for far too long.

This time, he didn't want to be passively beaten, let alone surrender.

Now, he was living in his dream, with family and friends, career and wealth, and also a lot of time. He refused to continue wallowing in nightmares, unable to extricate himself. If he didn't enjoy life properly, if he didn't seize the time, then he would be failing his second chance.

Therefore, he would rather waste time sitting in place and spacing out than get lost in the entanglement of nightmares and suffering.

Anson looked at Lucas, his expression still calm, but his eyes were different.

Azure and deep, like an ocean, clear and bottomless, with a hint of determination flickering in the layers of light, seemingly enough to ignite the darkness.

The night was boundless, and Lucas seemed to see a beast dancing gracefully in the flames deep in Anson's pupils, elegant and passionate.