From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

"My name is Little Frankie-William-Abagnale."

Who could have imagined that such a simple line could be so haunting; but after the lights came on and the faces in front of them were clearly visible, the handsome guy was indeed handsome, but it wasn't Anson.

The screams and cheers that had just escaped their lips were cut off again, and they all fell into astonishment and shock, staring blankly ahead, at a loss.

So, is this some kind of performance art?

Her heart stopped beating.

The shadow picked up the microphone, and a deep voice came from it.

"My name is Little Frankie-William-Abagnale."

There's even a fourth one?

"Oh, sorry, my mistake, actually my name is Anson Wood."

Snap.

The spotlight shifted to the left, enveloping the figure that had just appeared on the left side of the stage—

The whole world was silent, utterly still, without a single sound.

Whoosh.

The roar of vehicles passing by on the main street behind her further emphasized the quiet of Washington Square, no protests, no complaints, no discussions, no shock, nothing, everything seemed to have been paused.

Millions of eyes all fell on that figure.

An NYU sweatshirt paired with a white T-shirt, a leather baseball jacket, such a simple and light outfit, exuding a youthful vibe, standing there casually, as if walking out of the spring breeze, even the chilly wind of Manhattan at night became gentle.

So close yet so far, like the North Star.

Blair felt like a fool, her tears bursting their banks unexpectedly, the world blurring into a halo in the hot tears.

Thump. Thump.

The sound of her heart beating lingered in the world for a long time.

Joy? Happiness? Pleasure?

No, none of them, but a pure emotion, an energy that could burn the soul, piercing from her toes into her heart like lightning.

"Ah."

Blair was the first to scream, standing up recklessly, not caring if others called her crazy.

"Ah, ah, ah."

As she shouted, she smiled, her smile blooming proudly in the hot tears; as she shouted, her whole person burned like a flame.

So, this is surprise.

The next second.

Karen finally reacted, her eyes filled with disbelief, hurriedly standing up, confusedly grabbing Blair's arm.

"Blair."

"Blair…"

"I, I seem to have seen Anson."

Blair turned her head, her eyes filled with tears, firmly grasping her friend's hands, and shouted in a frenzied voice, "Anson. Anson! That's Anson!"

Karen's eyes widened, as if she had been frightened.

Immediately afterward, that familiar voice came from her ear.

"Surprise, New York!"

Ah.

Ah, ah, ah.

Karen finally reacted, watching Blair screaming wildly; Blair also lost her mind, jumping and screaming maniacally.

Ah, ah, ah!

Ah, ah, ah!

The heat wave rose steadily.

Washington Square, which had been plunged into shock, finally realized what had happened, exchanging incredulous glances, their faces filled with expressions of questioning life, but gradually confirming the answer in mutual calls, before they could react, they were swept into the storm.

Ah, ah, ah.

Madness, complete madness, instantly erupting with unbelievable energy that swept the entire venue, so that pedestrians and residents in nearby blocks all looked over, and the students of New York University poured out in droves.

The night was burning.

Anson, standing on the stage, was also taken aback, looking at the scene in front of him with surprise, even after experiencing two full weeks of surprise events, the energy erupted by this wave of heat was still staggering.

Rushing from Boston to New York, from helicopter to private jet to helicopter and finally to private car, he arrived smoothly in about an hour, but Anson was still seasick and dizzy, his whole body floating in the air, unable to feel gravity at all.

Then.

The rolling heat wave surged from directly in front of him, misty and rising.

Like a mirage.

… …

"Anson has appeared in Washington Square."

Nicholas Flynn: Huh?

This "New York Times" reporter heard the words coming from the phone's earpiece, a mouthful of hamburger stuck in his throat, almost unable to swallow, and was about to choke to death, so he quickly took a big gulp of Coke and swallowed the hamburger whole.

However, without the need for further explanation on the phone, there was also an uproar in the restaurant.

"Anson is downtown."

"What? When? How did he get here?"

"It's only two hours from Philadelphia…"

"Anson isn't in Philadelphia, he's in Boston."

"What, Boston? When did that happen?"

"Idiot, he's already in New York now."

Amidst the bustling noise, the TV screen was tuned to Fox.

"Breaking news, Anson Wood has surprisingly appeared in Washington Square to launch the final stop of the 'Cat and Mouse Game' flash mob event."

On the screen, the helicopter sent by Fox TV was overlooking—

No reporter.

Professionals could tell at a glance that Fox had also been caught off guard, and even didn't have time to find a reporter, so they immediately sent a helicopter, no matter what, to go to the scene to capture footage first, and transmit the footage before other media outlets, and the reporter should also be on his way to Washington Square now.

From the helicopter lens looking down, you could see that the area around Washington Square was in an uproar, a vast crowd surging towards the same target from all directions, the dense figures like ants.

At the same time, fences had been erected around Washington Square in an orderly and unhurried manner, and queue fences had been erected at the entrance near the arch, the winding queue line was gradually and rapidly extending.

In the center of everything, a spotlight fell on the stage, the big screen had been turned off, and all eyes were on the only figure in the center.

In the whirring sound of the propellers, the deafening shouts could be faintly heard, stirring up layers of huge waves.

"Anson."

"Anson."

"Anson."

Neat and vast, fervent and intense, like a mushroom cloud, stirring open.

Spectacular.

Although the flash mob event had been going on for two weeks, and they had seen many amazing scenes, everything was instantly dwarfed compared to the scene in front of them.

This is the real spectacle.

Washington Square, Anson actually chose Washington Square as the end point of the event.

Suddenly, Nicholas stood up, not caring about his hamburger and Coke, and rushed out.

A brake, going back and forth.

The hamburger and Coke were fine, but the phone had to be brought.