From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

“Don't be someone else's hero…”

Anson was involuntarily stunned.

Looking at Jack, looking at nine-year-old Anson-Wood, looking at his past self, his consciousness blurred, his mind swayed, and he actually took a step back.

However, the three of them waved their hands repeatedly, resisting with all their might.

He shouted.

“Don't.”

Anson stopped his returning footsteps, but stood there blankly, once again losing his direction, not knowing which way he should go.

In the void, that voice came again, “Anson, I'm here.”

“Anson, Anson…”

So sad, so painful, and so desperate, calling out again and again, pulling and tugging at Anson's heart, making it beat again.

Reluctantly, Anson took another step, looking back with every step, running wildly towards the direction of that voice.

At the limit of his vision, on the dark horizon, with the running footsteps, a ray of dawn appeared—

Weak, but bright.

This caused his heart to beat faster and faster, almost exploding.

Although he was exhausted, although he could taste the blood in the back of his throat, although every knee in his body was protesting, although his knees and legs had no energy, although he felt that his body was falling apart and could no longer hold on.

However, the appearance of that ray of dawn still made his heart beat wildly, and a burst of energy seemed to be found again deep in his soul, erupting completely.

Running faster and faster, running faster and faster, finally turning into a sprint, his heart flapped its wings and flew high like Icarus, flapping its wings towards the sun regardless, even if the wax wings were melting, it couldn't stop him.

His face was pale and he was covered in sweat.

Not only his clothes, but also his hair was completely wet, and you could even see hot sweat dripping down his hair.

So embarrassed.

He breathed heavily, and even after a lot of effort, he still hadn't fully adjusted. The roar in his eardrums continued to surge, his temples were about to explode, sometimes cold, sometimes hot, sometimes high, sometimes low, and his internal organs were churning. A violent aura was rampaging in his chest, and the world was a blur.

However, the sense of reality fell into his stomach like a lead weight, pulling his body heavily towards the ground. Those weaknesses, those burning sensations, those sourness, and those extremely painful sensations clearly and truly filled his body through his blood, making Anson realize that he had escaped from the illusion and returned to reality.

Like the weightlessness in “Inception”.

Anson sat down on the ground and looked up, seeing Lucas, who was also in a mess, and finally knew who the voice that had just responded to his call for help came from.

In the endless nothingness and vast darkness of the deserted land, a rose stubbornly and tenaciously took root and sprouted, just like the rose that the little prince found in the desert.

Thousands of words swirled on the tip of his tongue, trying to find a suitable way to express them, but in the end, he swallowed them all.

Anson looked at Lucas, and Lucas also looked at Anson.

Finally, a sense of absurdity swept over him, and Anson couldn't control himself and burst out laughing.

Lucas: …

His face was speechless, his heart was still hanging high in his throat, unable to breathe, but he saw Anson laughing inexplicably. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Anson looked at Lucas like this, serious, nervous, fearful, flustered, his hair was wet with sweat, and his eyebrows and eyes retained a look of panic and helplessness.

Although Anson knew that it was inappropriate now, and obviously this was not an occasion for hearty laughter, the sense of absurdity still came over him when he saw Lucas in such a mess. Anson tried to control his smile, but the more he tried to control it, the funnier it became, and his smile bloomed completely.

Anson looked Lucas up and down, “You should see what you look like now.”

Lucas: …

Rarely, Lucas didn't complain back, but just looked at Anson with a worried expression. His face had never been so expressive.

This made Anson unable to control himself anymore, “Haha, Lucas, your expression… hahaha.”

Laughing so hard that he was clutching his stomach and staggering back and forth, Anson's head hit the table behind him, making a bang, which startled Lucas.

Lucas: …

A surge of annoyance and anger surged into his heart, but looking at Anson in front of him, who was rubbing his head and rolling on the ground, those anger eventually subsided.

Now, Lucas finally understood what was going on.

So, does this mean that Anson… is okay?

Lucas was not sure, and carefully looked at Anson. His expression and his eyes were completely relaxed. Although he looked embarrassed, the familiar Anson had returned.

Describing it like this is not entirely accurate.

The faint sadness and melancholy between Anson's eyebrows seemed to have quietly disappeared. It was not obvious, but he could still feel a faint ray of sunlight spreading out in his sparse eyebrows, giving him a sense of seeing the sun after the clouds had cleared. It was clearly familiar, but it inexplicably added a bit of strangeness.

Lucas had known Anson his whole life, but he couldn't remember when he had last felt this kind of openness and ease on Anson.

Or rather, had he never felt it before?

Of course, it wasn't entirely like this. Anson still revealed fatigue and chaos. That ray of cleanliness and clarity was not enough to calm the whole person down; but Lucas still keenly captured some differences. Did this mean that… those nightmares and shadows had finally resolved their knots?

Did this also mean that Anson had really found the answer in the movie and in the performance?

Words rushed to the tip of his tongue, and Lucas wanted to ask Anson directly.

However, at the last moment, he still braked urgently and controlled himself—

Don't rush. Don't rush!

Lucas clenched his fists, so hard and so violently that his fists trembled slightly, and that surging energy almost lost control.

Now, Anson had just recovered. There was no need to push him too hard. Give Anson some time and space to digest and sort things out on his own.

Anyway, no matter what happened, he would be by Anson's side. He would always stand there and wait for Anson, wouldn't he?

The heart hanging in his throat finally slowly returned to his chest. The fists that had lost their color due to excessive force slowly loosened, and Lucas's expression eased slightly, but he didn't have time to put on his usual mask. Looking at Anson, who was grimacing and rubbing the back of his head, he couldn't help but reveal a hint of helplessness in his eyes this time, and a smile also climbed to the corner of his mouth before he realized it.

After going around in circles and hesitating, Lucas still complained.

“You should see what you look like. The dream lover of thousands of young girls. Heh.”