The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 2054 Speechless
Anson was thinking that perhaps in the future, when filming, he should arrive in unfamiliar cities in advance, not for tourism, but to live as a local for a period of time and experience the atmosphere of different cities and cultures. That should be another kind of experience outside of filming, which is very much worth looking forward to.

Or perhaps he should buy a property in a different region, such as the French Riviera, the Alps, or a Caribbean island, and so on, so that after work he can go to different places to rest and relax, explore, and enjoy the pleasures of daily life.

"Anson!"

His chaotic thoughts were interrupted, and before he could react, Ansen saw the little tail following behind him.

The little guy only reached Anson's knees and looked to be two or three years old. He didn't seem to have fully adapted to walking upright yet. His high-raised steps swayed in the cold wind and couldn't come down for a long time. He opened his mouth and babbled, drooling. His rosy cheeks were really cute.

Not only Anson, but the security personnel also hesitated slightly. On the one hand, they needed to remind Anson, but on the other hand, they couldn't clench their fists and stop the little guy.

Anson chuckled softly, and like a penguin protecting its chick, he took two steps back and followed the little guy, the two of them wobbling forward together.

He looked up and around. There were many people around, some sightseeing, some resting, and some fishing on the riverbank. He couldn't immediately tell if the little guy was lost or if his guardian was nearby.

Looking down again, Anson noticed that the little guy's cheeks were dry and red, as if they had been cracked by the cold wind. He stopped and squatted down to look at the little guy in front of him. He took off the scarf around his neck and wrapped it around the little guy's face, trying to shield him from the cold wind.

result--

Haha, hahaha.

Anson couldn't help but burst out laughing. The scarf that fit him perfectly was practically a blanket for the little guy. It wrapped around his head twice, completely covering his eyes so he could barely see where he was going, and the scarf was even starting to drag on the ground.

The little guy blinked his eyes and clumsily tried to pull his scarf down so he could see where he was going. His adorable appearance made Anson laugh uncontrollably.

At that moment, a nervous woman's voice came from behind, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm really so sorry."

Amidst her nervousness and a hint of a smile, the woman stared wide-eyed at Anson. "I'm sorry, I just saw you and I've been trying to make sure I saw it. I simply can't believe it..."

"I hope Sophie didn't bother you... Oh, God!"

It turns out the little penguin wasn't lost; her mother had been right beside her the whole time, but was just momentarily stunned.

Anson chuckled. "So, her name is Sophie?"

The woman kept nervously clutching her collar, seemingly unable to breathe, "Yes...Sophie..."

Anson looked down at the little penguin who was kicking the hem of his scarf like he was splashing in a puddle after a rainstorm, his eyes beaming with joy. He then looked up at the woman and asked, "Are you here in Bruges for tourism?"

“No, we live here… To be honest, I’ve never seen any actors in Bruges…” The woman was still shocked, her brain not working properly, her accented English was incoherent and her grammar was a mess.

But at least, I can still understand it.

Anson shrugged slightly. "So this place still retains its charming urban atmosphere. If Hollywood were to discover it, it might become Paris."

The woman spread her hands, making no attempt to hide her resistance. "No one wants to see this day come, but we still warmly welcome you."

“Ha.” Anson laughed. “By the way, what language does Belgium speak? I remember that in the regions near the Netherlands, you have your own official language.”

“Flemish,” the woman answered immediately, and Anson suddenly realized, “Bruges means bridge in Flemish.”

Anson let out a low sigh, “Oh, now I can tell people I can speak Flemish.” Nearby, security team leader Reese-Gordon glanced over furtively and saw the woman laughing heartily, doubled over with laughter.

Rhys couldn't help but say: "Madam, he's not actually that funny, okay?"

But fearing that his expression would give him away, Rhys quickly lowered his gaze, keeping his eyes down and trying to minimize his presence.

Afterwards, Anson chatted for a bit more, asking about life in Bruges, the weather, and their hobbies and interests in their evenings.

Of course, there's also food.

Finally, he turned and said goodbye, as if he had just bumped into a friend on the street.

After walking a few steps, the woman called out from behind, "Your scarf!"

Anson waved his hand and said with a smile, "Sophie's new toy."

Then--

Ahhh! Ahhh!
Behind them came the woman's ecstatic screams, which echoed and lingered in the air above the small square.

Rhys felt the intense sonic attack on his eardrums and still couldn't understand: he really wasn't that funny!
At this moment, Rhys noticed that Anson had only taken three or five steps forward before stopping again. He thought Anson was about to turn around and go find the little penguin, but instead he found Anson sitting down on a bench in the small square.

The key point is that there was already someone on the bench: a chubby, middle-aged man with rosy cheeks, short dark brown hair mixed with white hair, sparsely revealing the top of his head and his receding hairline, his shoulders slumped in a dejected manner, holding a baguette in his hand, staring blankly at the pigeons in the square.

Rhys quickly stepped forward and stopped Anson, lowering his voice, "Anson, let's sit in the seats over there."

Of course, Rhys could have driven the middle-aged man away, but looking at his pitiful appearance, Rhys worried that the man might be provoked and explode.

At that point, things might get out of control.

Anson chuckled. “Relax. Haven’t you realized that in Bruges, nobody cares who I am, and nobody cares about the film crew either? They have other more important things to do in their daily lives.”

Anson patted Reese on the shoulder. "Relax."

Actually, there were still many words swirling on Rhys's tongue, but in the end, he swallowed them all, obediently shut his mouth, and said nothing more.

Anson sat down on the bench and looked at the middle-aged man next to him. "I apologize for our rudeness, Mr. Gleason."

The dejected middle-aged man smirked slightly. "No need. You're right. Here, we are nothing. There's no need to make a fuss."

After a pause, the middle-aged man joked again, "Besides, even Anson Wood is just an ordinary person here. Who else is an exception?"

Anson chuckled softly. "Is this sarcasm? Or praise?"

The middle-aged man remained seated, looking dejected, without even lifting his eyes. "Relax. There's no need to be so tense. Michael said you're a good kid, and I've always been skeptical, but now it seems you truly are a kind person."

Hearing the conversation, Rhys glanced sideways and thought, "Wait, does Anson know them?"
(End of this chapter)