From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

"Encore!"

"Encore!"

The entire venue roared with shouts, the deafening sound surging and crashing through the hustle and bustle of New York. Yet, the protagonist had already vanished.

He left, just turned around and left like that, so free and unrestrained, without any attachment, waving his sleeves, not taking away a single cloud.

The rolling heatwave continued to surge, but Blair was completely stunned.

Karen was a little worried and called out, "Blair, are you alright?"

Blair snapped back to reality, a smile creeping onto her lips, "I'm fine, of course, I'm fine. It's just that I like Anson even more now. Turns out he's not just about the looks. God, I'm practically going crazy for him."

Karen could tell that Blair was serious; her eyes didn't lie.

And this time, Karen agreed. She subconsciously turned her head to look at the surging crowd in front of her. That kind of freedom, that kind of joy, that kind of happiness was rippling in the air. Even without the performance, one could still feel the lingering charm.

Anson's figure involuntarily surfaced in her mind again, and excitement surged through her heart.

"He is an angel," Karen nodded lightly, the words spilling out naturally.

Turning her head, Karen saw the radiant smile on Blair's face, laced with teasing and jest. Her cheeks couldn't help but flush slightly, but she didn't dodge. She spread her hands, generously admitting her mistake.

"Okay, I just made a fatal error. Luckily, we didn't miss Anson."

"God, I can understand, one hundred percent. The performance just now was perfect. Anson is really..."

Thinking hard, she couldn't find the right words to describe her feelings, so she subconsciously looked at Blair. The two exchanged a glance and then screamed simultaneously.

"Ah!"

What could be more vivid and expressive?

No language was enough to describe the experience just now, a shock and a baptism, making people completely fall, shedding tears for dreams and cheering for life.

Thinking seriously—

"Ah!"

Every cell in Karen's body was screaming, her soul trembling slightly. Life is complicated and helpless, that's a fact; but sometimes, they can choose to be simple.

Then, Karen could no longer control herself.

"Honey, honey!"

Blair looked at Karen, puzzled. Karen raised the portable camcorder in her hand, met Blair's gaze, her smile blooming, and nodded vigorously in affirmation.

Blair finally reacted, gasped, and suddenly covered her mouth.

The smile in Karen's eyes overflowed, and she gave another affirmative answer.

"I recorded everything."

"Of course, some parts were too exciting, and I probably shook the camera, causing the focus to blur. In the final part, I couldn't help but jump up, and the lens was even more of a mess."

"But!"

"I recorded it."

Blair nodded repeatedly, nodding frantically. Even though there was no sound, she could still clearly feel the aura of screaming with all her might.

Before Karen could finish, Blair had already bounced out, "Let's go home, we're going home now. I have to see this footage immediately, now! Right now!"

Karen also laughed heartily, shouting "Wait" as she chased after her.

Behind them, the clamor was still surging—

"Encore!"

"Encore!"

Lingering for a long time.

Not many, but enough.

It wasn't until the frenzy gradually subsided and people returned to their daily lives that the bustling surge calmed down. It was difficult to accurately calculate the number of people around, but the coming and going crowds were indeed overwhelming, and there was even more direct and vivid visual proof—

The entire cello case was full.

Completely overflowing.

Usually, in order to create a bait effect, and also to get lucky, they would throw some money into the cello case, including banknotes and coins, and then wait.

Not long ago, the coins and banknotes they had dropped were still clearly visible, and it was even possible to see:

Which coins were thrown in by Connor, which were Lily's, and the pitiful two Andrew Jacksons that came from Miles.

But now?

Banknotes kept popping out like bubbles. Not to mention the bottom, even the cello case could not be seen. The short performance was more than they had earned in the past two years.

Regardless of the amount, every audience member who watched the performance left their mark—

For music, for dreams, for every fool who still perseveres in the darkness.

But Miles knew that this was not their credit.

Raising their heads and exchanging glances, there was some helplessness behind the joy of the three of them. Connor was the first to not hold back, "At least two-thirds of this is thanks to that person. We can't...we can't keep it."

Lily and Miles didn't speak, but they had the same thoughts as Connor.

Lily took a deep breath, "Maybe it was because he foresaw this scene that he left."

Leaving without saying goodbye.

Everything was like a dream, falling from the sky but disappearing out of thin air.

Lily was a little dazed, "So did all of this really happen just now? Or is it..." Just her dream.

The three of them were stunned.

In fact, it wasn't just them.

For New York, this afternoon was also a wonderful dream lacking a sense of reality:

For a short thirty minutes, they followed the guidance of the notes and burrowed into a rabbit hole, where there were no worries, no pressure, no pain, no struggle, stopping to listen to their inner voices, awakening those dreams that had accumulated dust in the depths of their memories, freely, wantonly, and unreservedly blooming with light.

When the dream ended, and they stepped forward again, returning to their daily lives, there were still thorns on the road ahead. The short escape could not solve the problem. Reality was not a fairy tale, but at least, when they moved forward again, their hearts were full and warm, filled with happiness and hope.

Dreams make life bearable.

In this city of eight million people, everyone has their own joys, sorrows, and stories. They are strangers to each other, unrelated to each other, but they briefly intersected because of that rabbit hole, relying on each other, warming each other, encouraging each other, so that when they waited to set off again, they could be sure:

They are not alone.

A ray of sunlight penetrates the heavy fog and thick haze, falling on the heart.

Perhaps some people like Karen noticed Anson's departure, perhaps more people didn't, but it didn't matter, those notes had been deeply imprinted in their souls.

So, what about the "culprit" of all this—

Generally speaking, the culprit is a derogatory term, with negative connotations. If placed here, is it not appropriate?

But thinking seriously, disturbing other people's hearts, disturbing other people's lives, but not leaving contact information, turning around and leaving freely, the short performance may become a swan song, making a group of people unforgettable, isn't this a typical scumbag behavior?

Free-spirited wanderers are like this.

So, should "condemn", severely condemn, righteously and sternly, and issue a strong protest.

Where is that culprit?

Second chapter.