The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 1837 The undercurrent is surging
Tense, stuck, chaotic, and scorching.

The narrow, square wooden cabin was crammed with people, like sardines. The carbon dioxide from each breath swirled in the bright light, threatening to explode or ignite at any moment, and the air grew increasingly thin.

However, after a brief pause and a brief silence, the pause button was pressed without warning.

Theo looked at Julianne, and Julianne looked at Theo. Only they could perceive the complexity between them, but even they couldn't quite put their finger on it. It was a mixture of familiarity and strangeness, a complex and intertwined feeling.

In the end, Theo was defeated, and lowered his eyes somewhat embarrassed.

"What exactly is your purpose?"

Theo changed the subject, and Julianne didn't bother to answer, watching Theo with a half-smile, unmoved; but the ski masked people next to them couldn't control themselves. They vaguely noticed the subtle atmosphere in the air, but couldn't find an opportunity to interrupt for a while, until now.

Seizing the opportunity, she stepped forward in her ski mask and couldn't wait to righteously proclaim, "Fischer fights for immigrants!" Her resounding words echoed through the air.

Another ski mask user noticed Theo's nonchalant and absent-minded expression and stopped his companion from doing something foolish, saying, "He knows what we do."

Emmanuel held his breath, displaying the skills of a professional photographer at this moment. The spirit and will he had cultivated over the years, braving dangers and hardships, gritted his teeth and once again relied on his core strength to maintain a squatting posture and turn around.

The camera is focused on Anson.

At a glance, Emmanuel saw Anson come into view. The faint sarcasm at the corner of his mouth and the lingering irritation in his brows were a mixture of contradictory and misplaced emotions. Although he was lowering his eyes to hide himself, one could still feel Julian's gaze on that face.

A reflection is clearly revealed in the actors' collisions and clashes.

Theo seemed unable to control his agitation. His hands were constantly busy, sometimes searching his pockets, sometimes shaking his wrists to try to relieve the burning pain of the handcuffs, but his busy hands could not find a place to rest, and he did not know what he was groping for. Bathed in Julian's gaze, he was running away, resisting, and struggling, and he could not control himself at all.

Or perhaps they didn't want to control it, because their mind was filled with chaotic thoughts, and they didn't realize they were out of control, while muttering to themselves incessantly.

Ah.

“You guys almost blew me up in the coffee shop yesterday, my ears are still ringing.”

Clearly, Theo knew exactly what they did.

One of the ski masks couldn't help but defend itself, refusing to be slandered, "We don't plant bombs."

Someone nearby added, "That's an official frame-up; they're using it to spread fear."

Their impatience and rage were palpable, their fury clearly evident in the urgency and volume of their voices.

However, this enraged Theo. He even forgot what he was busy with, suddenly raised his head, and his previously hazy, confused, and pathetic eyes instantly revealed anger, which he retaliated against without showing any weakness.

"And what about Liverpool?"

Julianne noticed Theo's unusual behavior before the ski mask could react. She took a step forward, lowered her hands from her chest, and switched from a defensive to an offensive stance, aggressively charging towards Theo.

“After Liverpool, we stopped planting bombs. We started talking to people, and then they joined us.”

“Theo, they have British people too.” Through Emmanuel’s camera lens, Alfonso behind the monitor could clearly see the fleeting fluctuations and turmoil in those deep blue eyes. He subconsciously tried to refute, but it seemed to pull at the deep wounds in his heart, causing a dull pain.

Off-camera, behind Emmanuel, in a completely unseen place at this moment, Alfonso could feel the light emanating from Julian's eyes, an attempt to establish contact and initiate a conversation, all focused on Theo.

In that fleeting moment, they could deeply sense the hidden pain of Theo and Julian, who had once engaged in such conversations, who had once so openly hurt and attacked each other.

But this time...

Theo lowered his gaze, avoiding Julian's direct eye contact. "I don't want to talk about politics."

This is the second time Theo has refused to engage in a direct dialogue with Julianne.

Scarlett noticed—

An unnamed fire surged up, an uncontrollable anger, frustration, bitterness, annoyance, and irritability filled my chest, and my ears were ringing.

Previously, when watching scenes between Anson and Michael Caine, Scarlett Johansson stood behind the monitor and could only see what the Emmanuel camera lens captured, not Michael Caine's expressions and demeanor; but now, Scarlett Johansson vaguely understands the feeling of Michael Caine's performance.

Everything was just like a stage play.

He. She. They. All stood on the stage, immersing themselves in their roles and performances.

Perhaps the spotlight isn't always focused on each person, but rather moves around on different people depending on the plot. However, everyone must be in character and maintain their performance, because the stage is a whole, and everyone is a part of it. Only when the parts collide and spark can the stage's effect fully engage the audience in the theater.

The situation is the same right now.

Scarlett stood behind Emmanuel, out of the camera's view, and could see Emmanuel's back as he remained squatting. Logically, this might be distracting, and one's attention might wander if one's focus isn't on him. When Emmanuel came into view, her concentration would begin to crumble.

However, Scarlett did not.

Because of Anson, or rather, because of the man in front of her, the man she once loved, hurt, and finally parted ways with, never wanting to see again.

His face, his expression, his eyes—everything about him was so familiar, the face of someone I had fallen deeply in love with. It seemed that because we hadn't seen each other for so long, compared to those painful memories, those happy and beautiful things came rushing back, making it impossible to look away.

So she kept watching him, silently observing from the shadows. Don't be fooled by her calm demeanor; she was actually hiding the turmoil in her heart. The memories were so vivid and real that even she hadn't expected them to be so clear. She thought she had long forgotten and didn't care about these memories.

Then, those memories gradually surfaced: why they argued, why they were tired of each other, why they broke up, and why they were in pain.

On that still handsome and dashing face, one can see the marks left by time, the vicissitudes, the weariness, and the struggle and pain that she tries her best to hide under the mask of nonchalance and indifference. Others may not be able to see it, but none of it can escape her eyes.

Those pains, so vivid, gripped her heart, making it hard to breathe.

From beginning to end, her gaze never left him, whether he was struggling with his ski mask or avoiding eye contact and conversation.

Slowly falling, gradually sinking, my heart is gently tugged, and the pain is intense.

(End of this chapter)