From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

The young man quietly gazed at Anson. Although Anson maintained a smile, the young man could detect a faint sadness within that brightness and radiance.

Was it an illusion?

"What is your dream?" the young man asked.

Anson was taken aback. "Ah…" he sighed softly. His memory traced back along the river of time. The memories of his previous life were so distant that he couldn't clearly recall which events were real and which were fabrications of his memory.

His dreams had long been scattered to the winds, adrift in the river of time.

"My dream is to be like you," Anson said—

To still love life even when covered in wounds, to persevere even when imprisoned, to grit your teeth and persist even when falling into the abyss.

The young man didn't understand.

"Yes," Anson nodded gently.

The young man asked, "What do you miss most about that time?"

Anson didn't immediately answer. He brushed aside the fog, retrieving the deeply hidden memories of his past life from the corners of his mind. As he thought, a smile involuntarily appeared on his face—

Those pure and simple years. He thought he would miss the happy times, but that wasn't the case.

"I miss the worries."

"Worrying about unfinished homework, worrying about exams and the possibility of performing poorly, worrying about getting caught passing notes in class and having my parents called to school, worrying about how to ask my parents if I could go out with friends on the weekend…"

"Worrying about potential mistakes in the school play, worrying about my parents finding out about secretly playing video games, worrying that the girl I secretly admired didn't like me…"

Once, they thought those worries were the most terrible and awful things in the world; but only after growing up did they realize that those worries themselves were a kind of happiness.

The words lingered and spread in the air, the sounds falling crisply and disappearing in the blink of an eye, but the sadness and loss hidden within them permeated the surroundings.

The young man couldn't help but hold his breath—

He understood. He understood one hundred percent.

This was the life he wanted. He wanted to have those adolescent troubles, he wanted to have an ordinary adolescence.

Clearly, Anson was also a person with a story. They both had their own stories, like two parallel lines that intersected at a certain moment.

Anson noticed the look in the young man's eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed. He hadn't expected himself to open up like that. The words had simply spilled out naturally; but he knew that he saw his former self in the young man.

Sincerely, Anson hoped that the young man could completely escape the shadows and truly live an adolescent life, worrying about those trivial troubles.

Ahem.

Anson cleared his throat, concealing his expression. "Perhaps you could become an actor. You could try signing up for the school play."

The young man's eyes lit up. "Really? You believe I can become an actor? Just like you?"

Anson raised an eyebrow slightly. "Oh, you recognized me?"

"Hehe," the young man chuckled sheepishly. "Not just me, Mom recognized you too. I'll tell you a secret, I've watched 'Spider-Man' four times. I also want to become a superhero like you and take on the responsibility of protecting Mom."

Simple words, but they concealed so, so many wounds.

So, this was the power of movies—

Far more than just a form of entertainment.

Anson nodded gently. "If you're willing, you can also try challenging yourself as an actor. I'm here in Portland this time to film a movie, and the director should be holding auditions at your school. If you're interested, I can recommend you to the director."

"Really?!" The young man's eyes widened, looking at Anson with joy. "I can really become an actor? And even perform with you?"

Happiness erupted.

However, it only lasted for half a second before the young man's face immediately dimmed.

"No, I can't."

"I, uh, if I become an actor, it will expose my and Mom's existence. I don't want to be found, at least not yet, not until I have the ability to protect Mom."

"Maybe next time, maybe there will be another chance."

Anson looked at the struggle and hesitation on the young man's face, the words of persuasion ultimately remaining on the tip of his tongue.

Perhaps there were many solutions, but this was, after all, the other party's life. As onlookers, they could only see the tip of the iceberg and offer some help within their capabilities, while the final decisions and choices still needed to be made by them taking the first step.

At least, they had left New York and started a new life, which was a good thing. The rest could be taken one step at a time, which was also good.

"We're filming here this time, you're welcome to visit the set anytime. You can see if you're interested. Filming movies is very different from what you imagine."

"After it's over, you can sign up for the school play and challenge yourself on stage. It's Shakespeare, who wouldn't want to challenge Shakespeare!"

Just a few words made the young man's expression brighten up again.

"Yes, yes, yes, that's right." The young man couldn't help but jump up. He was just about to say something else when he was interrupted by the school bell.

The young man showed a sad expression, "Ah, troublesome."

"Haha," Anson was amused.

The young man also smiled again, running towards the classroom while waving. He had only taken a few steps when he stopped and looked back.

"Anson, I'm very happy to see you again."

"Thank you, I want to say, thank you!"

The young man shouted at Anson, his smile blooming. Just then, a ray of golden sunlight pierced through the clouds and fell on him, outlining a golden edge, completely different from the haze and gloom of their last meeting on the streets of New York.

"Hey!" Anson called out. The young man, who was about to leave, stopped again. "We've met twice, but we still haven't introduced ourselves. That's not fair."

"Haha, sorry," the young man scratched his head.

Stopping, turning around.

The young man looked at Anson, stretching out his right hand generously from a distance, holding his head high and shouting loudly with a full voice.

"Jake - Forest."

"My name is Jake - Forest, very happy to meet you."

So bright, so sunny, this was his original appearance, wasn't it?

Without even needing more words, Anson's lips had already curled up at the corners after a self-introduction. Then, he followed suit, imitating Jake, stretching out his right hand, shaking hands in the air.

"Wood. Anson - Wood."

"Hey, Jake, very happy to meet you."

The two of them were far apart, more than ten meters, even needing to shout to talk; but their right hands completed a handshake in the air, even giving each other a high-five, a tacit understanding spreading silently.

Then, Jake didn't linger any longer, waving as he retreated.

"Anson, I hope the filming goes well."

Watching Jake's departing back, Anson stood there for a long time. Finally, the playground returned to silence, all the students entered the classroom, and all the noise and clamor settled down in the blink of an eye.

Anson gazed at the direction Jake had left.

"Being able to meet again, I'm really, really happy."