The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 1434 Guest Reporter

In the afternoon, the sun is just right.

The rare bright sunshine lazily shines down. Without any high-rise buildings to block or obstruct it, Central Park opens its arms and welcomes you unreservedly. Lush green fills the vision, the whole world comes alive, and fresh and transparent water vapor and laughter float in the air.

New York has finally bid farewell to the harsh winter, and summer is approaching.

Compared to Los Angeles, New York in late spring and early summer is not as hot as in summer. Instead, it is a rare pleasant time of the year and is more comfortable.

So Anson quietly returned to New York -

The number and equipment of the recording studios here are in no way inferior to those in Los Angeles, but unlike in Los Angeles, they are not under the constant surveillance of paparazzi.

However, today Anson did not go to the recording studio, but went to his home on the Upper West Side to have lunch with Charles and Nora. The Woods, who usually chose to have a simple lunch outside due to their busy work, rarely went home to enjoy lunch because of their youngest son.

After lunch, Anson left the house. He did not drive or hail a taxi, but walked towards Central Park. After only a few blocks, he could see the Ritz-Carlton Hotel standing in the green scenery. There was a lot of traffic coming and going in front of the hotel, and it was very lively.

He stood across the street and observed quietly. Those busy figures were leaving. Anson then put on a pair of black-framed glasses, crossed the zebra crossing, without any obstruction or avoidance, and walked across with ease.

The tall and upright figure did not seem out of place in busy Manhattan and the luxurious Upper East Side. The figure who came and went in a hurry did not even look up. The bustling crowd was the best cover. Strangers passing by had no idea who the person next to them was.

Anson did not act coyly or hide anything, but walked forward with the calm and confident steps of a business person arriving at the Ritz-Carlton.

Soft and elegant piano melodies echo in the hotel lobby, and the rippling notes isolate the hustle and bustle of the street, slowly settling down all the restlessness; in front is the afternoon tea area, and just after lunch time, some people can't wait to sit down and enjoy the leisure of a cup of tea, walking through the murmurs of conversation, and then you can find the elevator on the right side of the front desk.

Just as Anson entered the elevator, a man in a black suit and blue shirt followed him in. He was holding a cup of coffee in his left hand and a PDA (personal data computer) in his right hand. He was busy with his head down and a black briefcase under his right armpit. He had no time to look up.

Although smartphones have not yet appeared, we can already get a glimpse of the future mobile office lifestyle.

Life doesn't seem to be that different.

Anson raised the corner of his mouth slightly and asked politely, "Which floor is this?"

"Third floor." The PDA man replied, and then added, "Thank you."

The third floor, the same destination as Anson.

The elevator soon stopped at the third floor. The man with PDA nodded gently to thank him again, then hurried out of the elevator. Anson made way and waited for the other party to leave before leaving the elevator. He looked left and right and saw that the man was already walking quickly towards the right end of the corridor.

Anson looked at the room number and also took a step to the right.

As a result, the man with the PDA was standing at the door of a suite and rang the doorbell. He noticed a figure approaching out of the corner of his eye and subconsciously raised his head to look over. His attention should still be on his own affairs. With a little tiredness and hesitation in his expression, he pointed to the room.

"you sure?"

Anson made a gentlemanly inviting gesture, "I'm not a stalker."

The PDA man tilted his head with a puzzled look on his face, and his expression was a little strange. His subconscious action was to look him up and down, but he did not look at the upper body. Instead, he scanned Anson's clothes - light beige tennis shirt, mint green wool casual suit, and light blue washed jeans. Simple and generous, casual but a little formal, but not too ostentatious, just like the first ray of sunshine breaking through the winter and sprinkling on the first touch of green on the treetops.

The PDA man couldn't help but take a few more glances. Just as he was about to take another look, the door of the suite in front of him was opened, and a lady with long flaxen hair appeared with a thick stack of brochures in her hand and a smile on her face.

"Hey, good afternoon, I'm Sandra."

"I'm sorry, I've been too busy to be in the mood. Please forgive my neglect."

Although she was smiling, it was obvious that she was in business mode. She didn't even look at the two men in front of her. Her thoughts must have been somewhere else. She hurriedly distributed the brochure in her hand to the two men and skillfully extended the invitation.

"This is our brochure. Please follow me, gentlemen."

After saying this, without waiting for a response, he turned and entered the suite.

Anson looked down at the brochure in his hand. The cover was an oil painting in a gold frame. The background inside the frame was a classic European castle. Anne Hathaway was wearing a simple medieval princess costume, gazing at the camera with a smile on her face, as if she was talking to the audience.

——"Magic Cinderella".

Without waiting for Anson to respond, the person in front of him was already urging him. Anson followed the PDA man into the suite, walked through the corridor paved with white lilies, and entered the suite's living room. The bustling figures filled the entire space, including men and women, young and old, and everything else.

A quick look around will reveal that everyone is busy with their own things, with laptops, handwritten notes, PDAs, brick phones, brochures, etc. The room is not noisy, but the busy and crowded atmosphere is clearly noticeable, and you can almost hear the sound of high-speed brains colliding in the air.

Sandra walked behind a makeshift reception desk next to the sofa and smiled. "So, what did you guys think of the movie?"

The PDA man took a sip of coffee, "Oh, I think it's a wonderful work, reminiscent of 'The Princess Diaries' and other Disney movies. Obviously, live-action fairy tale movies always have a unique charm."

Sandra looked at Anson, and the PDA man also looked at Anson.

Anson blinked his eyes: I don’t like it.

The words were already on the tip of his tongue, but realizing that it would be best not to expose his identity and draw attention, he took a detour and said, "I agree."

Sandra, "Excuse me, I need to check in, which media are you from?"

PDA Men, "'The Village Voice.'"

The next second, Anson could sense eyes focused on him, "…'seventeen years old'."

Sandra and the PDA man both showed expressions of sudden enlightenment, and even nodded slightly to Anson.

Currently, "Seventeen" is the top youth magazine in North America with excellent sales. This magazine focuses on the youth market and focuses on fashion, culture, beauty, relationship advice, lifestyle, etc.

Although this is not a movie magazine, "Cinderella Story" targets the youth market, so it is not surprising that "Seventeen Years Old" appears here.

(End of this chapter)