From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

"Thank you."

Countless words ultimately transformed into the simplest sentence.

Michael finally pulled himself back from the brink of emotion, regaining his reason.

"Next time, I hope to have the opportunity to express my gratitude in person; it would be my honor."

Anson didn't politely refuse but instead playfully went along with it, "You're buying?"

Michael immediately grasped the essence—

This painting was priced at five thousand dollars, but the final transaction price had an extra zero.

Clearly, Anson was teasing about this matter in a lighthearted way.

Michael couldn't help but look at Annie; he now understood why everyone praised Anson for being charming; Annie looked at Michael inexplicably.

One sentence was enough.

Annie and Thomas both hugged Michael, cheering joyfully.

On the other side, Anson hung up the phone and immediately noticed Nora and Lucas's gazes; although they didn't speak, their burning eyes and concerned looks couldn't have been more obvious.

Anson looked slightly helpless, "A friend."

Nora, "Friend?"

The raised tone at the end was full of inquiry.

Originally, Anson wanted to explain the whole story; he hadn't anticipated such a coincidence, which was a fun thing to share; but now, looking at Nora's expression, he suddenly didn't want to explain.

"Ms. Nora, what kind of look is that?"

"What kind of look? My look is very normal."

"Hey, what are you implying with that look?"

"What? Hmm, what? Tell me, what did you interpret?"

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

The phone vibrated again, interrupting Nora and Anson's confrontation.

Nora turned to glare at Lucas, "This is only the third course."

In other words, dinner had just started, and Lucas had already received five, six, seven, or eight calls.

Lucas, who had been sitting quietly beside them, didn't retort but subconsciously picked up his phone and glanced at it, then looked up and around.

"Mom, it's for you."

Nora: …

Anson laughed heartlessly from the side.

Nora was speechless, but she didn't say much, silently answering the phone, not even having time to look at the caller ID.

"Good evening, this is Nora-Wood."

On the other side, Lucas and Anson secretly completed a high-five under the table.

Nora noticed it, but she didn't have time to pay attention to the two brothers; her attention was completely on the phone, listening carefully and communicating briefly.

Then, she hung up the phone, not speaking for a long time.

Anson was a little worried, "Mom, what happened?"

Nora looked at Anson, her expression a little strange, "I need to return to the gallery once after dinner."

Lucas also noticed the abnormality, "What is it, what happened?"

Nora shrugged slightly, trying to find a more accurate way to express it, but it was obviously not an easy thing; after searching her brain, she still couldn't find it, so she just said it directly.

"More than a third of the works in the gallery have been sold."

The air was a little quiet.

Lucas breathed a sigh of relief, with a calm look as if he was used to it.

Instead, Anson suspected his ears, "Are you sure?"

The smile at the corner of Nora's mouth rose, "Yes."

"So I need to go to the gallery later to further confirm the situation; everything happened too fast, just a few hours, it's inevitable that there will be some muddling through; we need to confirm the buyers and the quotations, and then see the situation, whether we need to launch a new wave of publicity and promotion."

Everything seemed unbelievable, even absurd.

Even after repeated confirmation that things had really happened, it still seemed to lack some sense of reality without seeing it with one's own eyes; the shock and impact continued to stir in the brain.

In contrast, Lucas seemed much calmer.

"There's no need."

"Anson is the best publicity. From Anson's appearance until now, it's only been a few hours, and the market has already given a positive response; if we cooperate with publicity next, it will give people a sense of deliberate arrangement, making people suspect that everything is arranged, the commercial atmosphere is too strong, causing passersby's resentment; rather than that, it is better to wait patiently, let the rumors continue to ferment, and wait for the feedback from word of mouth."

Nora looked at Lucas with great interest.

Lucas was expressionless, "Mom, you should see the crowd gathered outside the gallery today; if they could, they wouldn't mind tearing Anson's clothes apart and then each grabbing a piece."

Anson looked strange, "Lucas, do you want one too? If you want one, there are many in the closet; you can take them as you please."

Lucas: …

Nora had already reacted and looked at Anson again, her expression filled with pride, "Sorry, Anson, I questioned your appeal this afternoon."

Sincere, frank, warm.

Instead, Anson was a little embarrassed; even he himself hadn't anticipated the current situation, completely caught off guard.

So, Anson joked, "I now have a feeling of being sold and still counting the money; is this normal?"

Lucas was right—

No publicity is the best publicity, or rather, the right publicity.

A whole week later, the news that the East Village Art Gallery had re-attracted people's attention gradually spread completely in New York and attracted the attention of "The New Yorker."

Without any invitation or cooperation plan, "The New Yorker" sent a columnist to visit the gallery in person—

Not to interview Anson or promote Anson, but to truly appreciate the art exhibition, to see what kind of art exhibition attracted Anson, and to see Anson's artistic taste through the art exhibition.

A vase often means that it is beautiful on the outside but worthless on the inside, without any substance.

However, over the past period of time, Anson has been gradually showing different aspects.

To movies, to acting, to bands, to fashion… and so on, setting aside the appearance, showing the inside, showing the soul, not some chicken soup for the soul or famous quotes, but a kind of thinking, a kind of taste, slowly breaking the prejudice and labels of the vase, showing more possibilities for him as a person.

Not just an actor, but also an artist, a person's existence.

Of course, conspiracy theories always exist:

Everything is arranged, the scenes, lines, publicity reports arranged by the agent and publicist; Anson is just a shell, putting in the wisdom of others and presenting it; the so-called true soul is still empty and nothing.

This is also what "The New Yorker" is trying to explore.

If Anson has a complete team behind him to create a persona and create an image, why did they choose this art exhibition? Shouldn't they participate in those more famous and reputable art exhibitions? There is no need to choose such an unknown art exhibition to take risks, is there?

After all, if everything is planned, they should minimize risks and reduce controversy as much as possible.

As a hypothesis, if this art exhibition is Anson's choice, then what can be seen from here?

Leaving Anson aside, "The New Yorker" also believes that it is necessary to give some attention to these independent art exhibitions, which is also a necessary path to help cultivate the art soil.

Quietly, the attention came.

So, what about Anson?