From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Laughter and cheerful voices filled the air, a scene of harmonious joy.

In a brief span of less than three to five minutes, the entire film crew's atmosphere had undergone a complete transformation, so much so that one could almost feel the lighthearted energy permeating the air.

Noah wasn't surprised. Anson seemed to possess a certain magic, capable of effortlessly resolving any thorny situation.

Noah's confusion stemmed from why Anson chose to handle it in this manner. After all, Anson was already a superstar. Why would he still spend the time and energy to resolve the staff's complaints and misunderstandings? These trivial matters seemed hardly worth noticing, and Anson didn't need to apologize.

"Because I was wrong."

Anson's answer stunned Noah, which made Anson laugh.

"What, do you think I'm incapable of making mistakes?"

"Everyone makes mistakes; no one is an exception. If I were to believe I'm infallible because of the halo surrounding me, Noah, things could become very dangerous."

"The fact that I delayed the crew's schedule due to the recording and temporarily altered the shooting schedule is all true. It's also a fact that I increased the crew's workload for my own personal gain."

"I have the right to do so, and others naturally have the right to complain behind my back."

"Of course, I don't regret my decision. I believe I made the right choice in the right position; but I also don't mind making some amends to keep the crew in a relaxed atmosphere, which is beneficial for subsequent work."

"Moreover."

Anson paused, revealing a sly smile.

"I need the crew to help keep it a secret. Otherwise, if the news that we're recording a single here and delaying the film's start date spreads to Hollywood, it won't be something that can be easily resolved with afternoon tea."

One must take a long-term view and consider the overall situation.

Penny-wise, pound-foolish, that would be truly foolish.

Then, Anson lightly shrugged his shoulders.

"In essence, it's still because my position isn't high enough. If it were someone like Tom Hanks or Steven Spielberg, things would be much simpler."

Noah didn't quite understand the latter part, but he didn't dwell on it. Anyway, trusting Anson was the right thing to do. There was nothing Anson couldn't accomplish—

Lucas said the same thing.

Beneath the calm surface, a storm was brewing within the "Walk the Line" film crew, but before it could fully take shape, it was quietly resolved by Anson.

It wasn't until the morning coffee gradually arrived that Cody and the others realized a key point:

Anson had actually arrived at the film set early in the morning, earlier than most of the staff. This attitude alone was enough to show his position.

Clearly, Anson felt guilty about delaying the film crew's shooting schedule, so he consciously arrived at the film set as soon as possible to integrate with the staff.

Regardless of whether Anson's "early arrival" was considered professional or a deliberate attempt to ingratiate himself with the staff, the fact that Anson, in his current position, was willing to make a "deliberate attempt" to mend the rift was already very commendable, and it said a lot.

Moreover, Anson's "ingratiation" was indeed irresistible.

Inside and out, his words and actions were consistent.

At this moment, re-examining the various rumors surrounding Anson in the Hollywood industry—not only professional but also humorous, creating a harmonious atmosphere on set—they had originally thought it was all a unified front from the publicists, but now it seemed that people were able to reach a consensus, not through artificial manipulation.

After coming back to their senses, people were already full of praise for Anson.

However, goodwill cannot solve all problems.

Because the chain reaction caused by Anson's series of unexpected actions disrupting the film crew's shooting schedule, as well as the collateral damage derived from these chain reactions—

Quickly surfaced.

"...I need an explanation."

"No! I know you're processing the refunds, but...no, I know your compensation terms, I don't care, I need an explanation."

"Why!"

"Give me an explanation, what's the reason? I came all the way from Dallas, driving the whole way, covered in dust, just to see this museum. I made a reservation, I inquired about the opening hours, I made all the plans and procedures, and what now? You're telling me it's closed today?"

"Jesus Christ, this is absurd."

"I don't want compensation, I don't even want a refund, I want an explanation."

Before them, a red-bearded man wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, and boots, with a cowboy hat, didn't hide the anger on his face at all, and was issuing his voice forcefully.

He wasn't alone.

Behind him, there were more than twenty people gathered together. Some of them were already preparing to leave, but were temporarily stopped by the noise here. One by one, they looked over with different gazes, and in the emotions of disappointment and regret, they couldn't help but expect the museum officials to give an answer—

The number wasn't large. All of them had come specifically to visit the Sun Records Museum, wholeheartedly wanting to admire the workspace where countless top singers had recorded, and witness the traces left behind by history with their own eyes. It was a thrilling and exciting moment.

However, everything was ready, and the long-awaited space was finally about to open before their eyes, but reality poured a bucket of cold water, plunging them all into confusion and bewilderment.

Closed.

And it was a sudden closure without warning.

They didn't understand what had happened, and in their confusion, anger began to erupt.

Hunt Handford was a hothead who, regardless, rolled up his sleeves and took the lead, starting to question the staff.

If they didn't give him a reasonable explanation, he wouldn't mind solving the problem with his fists.

The bustling crowd behind him gave him courage, like a backing, allowing him to charge forward and do his best to defend his rights.

"Are you guys crazy, right?"

"Do you think we're easy to bully? We're not a small group of people. You should look outside. Today, the number of visitors eager to admire the recording studio far exceeds expectations!"

The staff in front of him tried to interrupt Hunt and explain, but Hunt refused to give him a chance. He saw the scene when he first arrived—

It was lively and bustling, with tourists flocking to Sun Records.

The museum must not fool them casually. If they didn't give them a reasonable explanation today, they would never give up!

Then, Hunt also incited the scene, trying to unite everyone's strength, and also calling in other people outside the museum.

"Explanation!"

"Explanation!"

Hunt shouted loudly, straining his neck, waving his fist vigorously, and roaring passionately.

Gradually, the voices of more than twenty people actually gathered together sparsely.

Creak.

The door behind him opened, and Hunt was overjoyed. Sure enough, their movement inside had successfully attracted the attention of others, and they should work harder.

Hunt turned his head to greet the figure who had just entered, revealing a hint of confusion—

That person's demeanor was quite different.