From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Something felt subtly off…

From the car to his entrance to his opening remarks, step by step, silently and imperceptibly, Ansen was breaking expectations and disrupting the balance.

Every detail exceeded the imagination of the reporters present, to the point where the initiative was slowly falling into Ansen's control.

This… this shouldn't be happening.

As a seasoned reporter, Nicholas immediately sensed the anomaly. There wasn't time to ponder deeply; he had to regain control of the situation.

"Ansen, let me ask you, have you heard the rumors that Brad Pitt tried to get you kicked off the 'Friends' set?"

He went straight for the jugular.

No pleasantries, no detours, right to the heart of the matter.

Rustle, rustle.

The noisy and chaotic sounds subsided slightly, and the hot, eager gazes surged towards Ansen, instantly surrounding the young man.

Ansen, however, didn't panic.

In his previous life, before trying different jobs, he majored in journalism and communication in college. He not only interned at a newspaper but also worked at a television station after graduation. Before switching to other industries to seek development opportunities, he genuinely loved the news industry.

Now, he still does.

Media. Reporters. Paparazzi. Traffic. These concepts in journalism and communication were not scary to Ansen; in fact, they felt somewhat familiar.

From his past life to this life, dealing with the media again was truly a long time coming. Although the position was different now, it felt like reuniting with an old friend.

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and he said cheerfully and happily, "Oh, so that's why you're all gathered here."

Nicholas: …

Reporters: ???

Why did Ansen's voice sound like he was reuniting with an old friend? That kind of genuine joy, wasn't that strange?

Could it be that the newcomer was overjoyed because he finally gained media attention?

Nicholas couldn't understand—

Anyway, from the moment Ansen appeared, everything so far was incomprehensible.

But Nicholas reacted quickly. "So, what's your take on it?"

He immediately pressed on.

Whoosh, accompanied by Nicholas's question, the other reporters cooperated very well, immediately shoving their recording pens forward.

They were just recording pens, but they were like daggers, stabbing towards Ansen's cheeks, mouth, nostrils, neck, and other vital points.

That pressure, with its threat and impact, came head-on, as if it could make Ansen's blood splatter on the spot in the next second.

Honestly, even a veteran who had experienced many battles would find it difficult to bear the heart as the protagonist of such a scene; Ansen was no exception.

Participating as a reporter and participating as an interviewee in such a scene were completely different things.

Ansen could also feel his heart contracting slightly.

Everyone looked at each other, and a small number of people didn't even realize what Ansen's non sequitur answer meant.

Nicholas was slightly stunned, and immediately realized that the young man in front of him might be different from what they imagined.

Before Nicholas could speak, a reporter next to him immediately asked, "What do you mean?"

Ansen looked over in the direction of the voice, "I guess, that means the rumor doesn't exist at all?"

Not a statement, but a rhetorical question—

Sarcasm, banter.

Although Ansen didn't say it, his words implied that he was complaining about the reporters' stupidity.

At the same time, he denied the rumors in a teasing way. If the rumors were true, then he couldn't have appeared here, so his appearance proved that the rumors were all fabricated; but he didn't respond directly, avoiding a head-on conflict with Brad, and still avoiding the limelight.

Experienced, sharp, accurate.

Most importantly, everything was dissolved into nothingness, and the entire handling and response could not find any traces at all, from the words to the attitude, it was completely natural.

Nicholas's heart shuddered.

He wondered if he was overthinking things?

Maybe Ansen was just messing around; maybe Ansen was just running away… After all, the young man in front of him was only eighteen years old.

It had only been sixty seconds from his appearance to now, which was far from enough to judge a person.

Nicholas cheered up again. He needed to test it out again. "So, you mean, you don't think Brad Pitt did that?"

Ansen was avoiding, and Nicholas was forcing Ansen to face it.

Before Ansen could speak, Nicholas asked another question, "Or rather, Brad Pitt did do that, but David Crane, in order to prove that he wouldn't listen to others, defied Brad Pitt's wishes and gave you another chance, and you became their arena?"

Step by step, aggressive.

The noise subsided again, and all the other reporters around held their breath, because Nicholas's question hit the nail on the head.

Brad Pitt or David Crane, both were objects that could not be easily offended. No matter which side you stood on, it meant offending the other side. Although there were many rumors in Los Angeles these past two days, and the truth was about to come out, it was always just private speculation.

If someone said that this was David Crane deliberately using Brad's name to hype up the news in order to increase his bargaining chips, people wouldn't be surprised.

And now.

Nicholas was trying to start from Ansen's weak link and burst this bubble.

The whole place held its breath.

Not because of attention to Ansen, but because of Brad Pitt and David Crane, this was the real bombshell.

So, what about Ansen?

The eighteen-year-old in front of him still had a young and energetic face, but his eyebrows revealed a temperament that did not match his age, calm and composed.

He, with a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth, still maintained a smile, and asked, "What do you think?"

Nicholas frowned. He was staring at Ansen's eyes. The sunlight shone into those eyes, and he couldn't see clearly. He reflexively bumped back, "I believe this is the truth."

Ansen also bumped back without stopping, "Can you prove it?"

Nicholas, "Uh."

He couldn't help but choke. At this time, he was trying to prove this through Ansen, otherwise, did Ansen think they were here for a morning run to exercise and sunbathe?

Nicholas didn't panic and continued to press, "I'm asking for your opinion."

The smile on the corner of Ansen's mouth narrowed, and a hint of seriousness appeared in his eyes. The golden sunlight instantly burst out with amazing energy, "He who asserts must prove."

"Since you suspect this matter, then the burden of proof is on you, not on me. Why don't we listen to your evidence of suspecting this matter."

"Everyone has a mouth, and there is no cost to talking nonsense, but I believe that media reporters still have a professional moral bottom line and will not talk nonsense."

"So."

A pause, and the smile climbed back to the corner of his mouth again.

"I believe that you appeared here because you must have already found the truth, right? I am waiting for the answer from the uncrowned king."

Ansen looked into Nicholas's eyes frankly and directly, without being aggressive, but exuding a kind of confidence and pride from the inside out.

Nicholas himself didn't even notice that he swallowed a mouthful of saliva, his throat was terribly dry, and his lungs felt like a fire was lit.