The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 928 Beautiful Night
"One is pure, one is simple."

"You can feel the endless enthusiasm from everyone. They really love movies. Movies are not just about how much box office revenue and how much pay they get. No matter what kind of movie it is, every movie carries a person's memories and emotions. They are willing to spend time and energy to delve into it and enrich their spiritual world. At the same time, it also makes movies and art not so distant and closely related to life."

“Even those Americans living in Los Angeles are no longer puppets of the praise machine in Cannes. They seem to finally have souls.”

Hahaha.

Scarlett's casual complaints made Anson burst out laughing.

Anson looked at Scarlett, "So, which puppet, Pinocchio or the Mad Hatter?"

This time it was Scarlett's turn to laugh out loud. "Pinocchio? I guess. Oh, God, imagine a bunch of Pinocchios with ever-growing noses getting together and complimenting each other, what would that look like?"

Not only Scarlett, but Anson was also shuddering: the visual effect!

Scarlett looked at Anson's wide eyes and laughed exaggeratedly.

Brilliant and unbridled laughter echoed under the night sky of Cannes. Obviously, the night for movies was not over yet.

Tonight, the Cannes Beach Film Festival is screening the black-and-white classic from Hollywood's golden age, "Letter from an Unknown Woman."

This 1948 film, adapted from the novel of the same name, tells the story of a secret lover. He only had a one-night stand with her, but she had a lifelong unforgettable love for him.

Such love movies can often be seen in Asian movies, but in European and American movies, such subtle, long-lasting and poignant love is rare. It is precisely because of this that movies can occupy a unique place in the long river of history.

After the movie ended, you could clearly feel that the men and women on the beach were a little sad. The French were immersed in the mood of romantic love.

however.

"...No, I can't do it. If I like it, I like it. If I don't like it, I don't like it. I hope I can say it out loud and directly. I can't hide my feelings, let alone for a lifetime." Scarlett's position was very firm. She shook her head and expressed resistance with her whole body.

Anson laughed dumbly, "Maybe it doesn't suit your personality, but at least you can appreciate the beauty behind such a story."

Scarlett thought about it and said, "No."

Anson: "Haha."

Scarlett was very calm, "What's wrong? You told me tonight that we need to dare to express ourselves, didn't you?"

Anson raised his hands in surrender. "Of course, you are right. We see the world differently at different ages."

Scarlett glanced up at Anson, "Are you complaining about my youth?"

Anson, “Isn’t that a good thing?”

Scarlett looked at Anson carefully, and finally couldn't help but raised the corner of her mouth, "Just take it as a good thing. Who can resist youth? Thank you for sending me back tonight."

The words came to my lips, but I stopped.

The night breeze was blowing, and the hazy and ambiguous light was shining down, slowly outlining the figures of two people. The night between them gradually disappeared, and the fingers of the two people touched each other vaguely. A subtle throbbing quietly spread in the air, and the heartbeat became more and more obvious.

Scarlett stared at Anson without turning around to enter the room. She was a little hesitant and a little impulsive. Her eyes accidentally brushed across Anson's lips. She seemed to have thought of something and immediately dodged in a hurry, trying to cover up her feelings.

Puff, puff.

The heart beats like a drum.

At the moment when Scarlett hesitated, Anson's figure covered her tightly, and Scarlett felt her heart was about to explode. Closer, closer.

The distance was so close that I could clearly feel the temperature coming from the surface of my skin, which easily destroyed my sanity and almost made me go crazy.

Anson's deep, mellow voice was slightly hoarse, like a cello playing in the night, "Good night, underage girl."

The next second, Anson turned around and took a step forward.

Scarlett's ears suddenly turned red, and the cold air rushed in, instantly surrounding her. She stared at Anson's back with wide eyes, unable to believe what was happening before her eyes, "I'm nineteen years old, nineteen years old!"

Anson's voice came from the corridor, "No one can resist youth, right? Haha, hahaha."

Scarlett: ???

Laughter echoed in the corridor. Scarlett stood there, her breath caught in her throat.

But after she recovered, Scarlett suddenly realized that she had not concealed her emotions just now, and Anson had seen through them. She looked at Anson's back and shouted, "So, it's you who doesn't dare, right?"

With these words, Anson turned around and faced Scarlett, but he did not stop and walked back. "Hush. Let's keep things in Cannes."

Scarlett was stunned. Is this considered a "Cannes holiday"? A smile rose slightly on her lips. She watched Anson disappear in the corridor with a bright mood. Then she turned and entered the room. Looking at the window where the moonlight was shining, she couldn't help but jog all the way to the hotel balcony and looked down.

waiting.

Then, Anson's figure could be seen appearing on the street. The night was a little cold. Anson hunched his shoulders and walked forward with light steps.

The streets were a little deserted, but one could still see a few scattered movie fans wandering around with beer in their hands, loudly discussing movies in Italian. Their enthusiastic emotions sounded particularly cheerful in their Italian pronunciations, only to be interrupted by cursing in French.

Anson looked back at the Italians who were arguing until their faces turned red, then continued walking forward and gradually disappeared into the night.

Scarlett stood there, staring at the figure quietly until she could no longer see him. But she did not leave. Instead, she looked up at the moonlight that was shining on the whole Cannes.

Cannes tonight is more beautiful than ever.

The hustle and bustle of the film festival continues, from morning to late at night, twenty-four hours a day, and the enthusiasm of the audience can be felt in every corner.

Karl Levitt soon heard the rumors on the streets of Cannes:

Anson appeared in a certain cinema watching a certain movie, Anson appeared in the queue for a certain movie waiting to enter, Anson appeared in the exhibition hall of the market screening collecting movie brochures, and so on.

If someone had told Karl this rumor five days ago, Karl would have been half-believing and half-doubting.

Is this definitely not a big show?

A kind of public relations, a show, a marketing of public image?

Otherwise, why would Anson be so high-profile? The whole Cannes is talking about Anson, and he deliberately appears in various public places to be seen by people?
It's not that Carl is suspicious, but the nature of the entertainment industry is like this. The scenes people see may not necessarily be what really happened.

Even actors contacting reporters or paparazzi, posing for photos in advance, and deliberately creating scandals/news are not uncommon in the entertainment industry.

But when he was actually in Cannes, standing on the streets and seeing with his own eyes, Carl knew that this was real.

Everything is true, that is Anson, an Anson who does not defend himself and sticks to himself freely.

(End of this chapter)