The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 1480 Grand debut
Over there, Sony Columbia was plotting against Anson. An invisible and inescapable net was tightly enveloping Anson.

Although Lucas was keenly aware of the crisis and established Jungle Pictures immediately, Jungle Pictures has just started out. Not to mention competing against Sony Columbia, it hasn't even had any of its films officially released, so it won't be able to help for a while.

Standing in front of a behemoth like Sony Columbia, they are still too small and are completely shrouded in the shadow of the giant.

A crisis is approaching.

Meanwhile, Anson was still preparing his new album in New York, seemingly unaware of the coming crisis.

Then, an interesting thing happened, which also caused a small-scale discussion in Hollywood and spread immediately -

Anson appeared at the door of Warner Bros.' New York headquarters.

After Warner Records, this time it’s Warner Bros. Wait, what’s the reason?
Could it be that Anson sensed the undercurrents at Sony Columbia and took the initiative to win over partners?
Or maybe there were additional conditions for the cooperation between Warner Records and Anson, such as Anson must cooperate with Warner Bros. on a work. After all, the conditions of the contract were too incredible:
If 50 million dollars is for three albums... plus a movie, then it would be much more reasonable. This also proves once again that Hollywood's sense of superiority is correct. Their judgment on Anson and the singer is still correct, and they can still look down on Anson and laugh at his cheap judgment.

However, is it really that simple?

One detail is worth noting. The last time Anson went to Warner Records, it was low-key and secretive, and the news was inadvertently leaked from within Warner Records. This time when Anson went to Warner Bros., it was completely different.

It's still early morning, still Manhattan, still rush hour, still a frustrating and depressing workday.

The surging crowd coming and going walked forward with their heads down. A small number of people stopped at the entrance of the Warner Bros. office building, broke away from the flow of the crowd, turned into the revolving door on the first floor, looked at the watch on their wrist, quickened their hurried steps, and started a race against the clock-in time.

Amid the hustle and bustle, a silver-grey Aston Martin slowly pulled up to the side of the road, with sparse light shining on its streamlined body, making it sparkle; but in Manhattan, where luxury cars abound, it did not seem so conspicuous, and people hurrying to and fro would definitely not stop for it.

The vehicle stopped temporarily. The driver quickly opened the door and got out. He walked around to the rear door, bowed slightly, and politely opened the door. A figure appeared.

A slender and tall figure, and a well-fitting jet-black Dior suit that wraps around the body lines bit by bit. The unruly and rebellious spirit revealed in the elegant and gloomy look stubbornly nourishes the angular bones. The sunlight struggles and forcefully tears through the thick clouds to reveal a ray of light, which falls down.

The world suddenly became bright.

My hurried steps stopped involuntarily and I couldn't help but take another look; my body continued to move forward by inertia, but my eyes couldn't help but drift back, to take another look, and again. Before I realized it, my attention had quietly converged in the same direction.

They quietly and consciously made way, creating a small gap in the surging crowd, and used their eyes to escort the figure into the building unimpeded.

Then, holding their breath and looking at each other, one or two could not believe their eyes, strangers shared this short magical moment excitedly and joyfully, the brief whispered conversations spread and surged in the sounds of new footsteps, and their hearts began to beat rapidly and uncontrollably.

"That was just now..."

"Wait, that doesn't mean..."

“Is it a real person?”

"You saw it too? I thought I was seeing things?"

"So, that is..."

One by one, they hesitated to speak. No one dared to say the name directly, but they looked for approval in each other's eyes. The name that was swallowed down the tip of the tongue exploded in their minds, boiling their blood and hearts. The dead morning suddenly became lively. The same was true in the lobby on the first floor of the Warner Bros. office building.

A bustling crowd of people was waiting to pass through the gate, while the crowded crowd waiting for the elevator in front filled the spacious corridor.

Even the air was turbid and dull.

The sporadic greetings were dull and after a brief conversation, they fell into silence again, enjoying the last bit of time they had before entering the office social scene. They were too lazy to even give a false smile to express greetings, so they simply looked down at the ground.

But he inadvertently noticed that imposing figure, and was so surprised and shocked that he choked on his saliva and stood there like a wooden chicken.

The noise floating in the air magically disappeared gradually, and it became completely quiet. Only the sound of the elevator door opening and closing abruptly broke the deadlock. But the magical thing was that no one entered the elevator. Instead, everyone rushed back to the gate, stood on tiptoe and stretched their necks to look secretly.

That figure stopped at the front desk, and in an instant, the entire first floor fell completely silent.

"Good morning, I have a meeting scheduled for ten o'clock, Mr. Jeff Robinov, Edgar Cook."

The receptionist skillfully busied herself in front of the computer and found the appointment file. "Mr. Cook, you're early... burp!" She couldn't finish her words. When she looked up and saw the face in front of her, she was interrupted by a hiccup. Her eyes widened, her brain froze, and she stood up the next second.

Snapped.

The chair flipped over.

"Anson! Oh, no, Mr. Wood, oh, God." The receptionist was incoherent.

Buzz, buzz.

The entire first floor lobby was in a state of agitation:
Anson Wood, "that" Anson Wood, actually appeared at Warner Bros.' New York headquarters?

A smile appeared on Anson's lips. Unlike the last time he visited Warner Records, today Anson came here openly with the purpose of creating some waves.

From the clothes to the posture, it is completely different.

Anson, "Don't worry, I come with good intentions." A little joke made the atmosphere relaxed, "I know there is still some time before the appointment, but I don't want to be late. Is there a reception room here? I can wait there until Mr. Robinov is free."

The receptionist nodded, but then shook her head.

Some time, more than just some, a full hour earlier. Warner Bros. certainly had a reception room, but how could they possibly let Anson wait in the reception room for an hour?
They only hear about those top Hollywood stars who are late and make producers and film company executives wait for an hour, and then their agents and public relations people have to help out from behind, but they have never heard of Hollywood stars coming to the appointment an hour early and waiting there obediently.

And, it was Anson?
So, how should they respond?

No matter how he responded, it didn't seem to be the correct answer. Not only the front desk, but also the bustling company employees in the lobby on the first floor were all stunned.

(End of this chapter)