Bang.
A loud sound exploded in his mind, and Karl froze on the spot.
His brain shut down, stopped functioning, and at this moment, there were no thoughts or concepts. He just instinctively stood there, blankly watching the scene unfold—
The night was just right.
The bright moonlight gently cascaded down, filtering through the orange streetlights, draping the cinema with a thin veil. The soft waves hummed quietly, and the bustling noise of the street seemed to take on a touch of laziness. Cannes, after a busy day, slowly began to quiet down. The hurried pace of the crowd finally slowed.
Only the most passionate fans still lingered, chatting away. A cup of coffee, a bottle of beer, or even a cigarette in hand. It didn't matter if there was no seat; standing in the street, they were completely lost in the moment.
Freely indulging in youth, making wasting time feel like a unique pleasure.
This was truly rare.
Everyone who came to Cannes was from the media—people who had been in the industry for years, unknowingly smoothing out their rough edges. Movies had become a job for them, and the passion they once had seemed to have cooled in their veins.
However, the film festival had its own charm.
Everything was about movies. It awakened the love and passion buried in the dusty corners of the soul. A good film could keep you up all night, and a bad one could make you curse out loud. Emotions were so alive, so intense—daring to love, daring to hate, with wild ups and downs. Life felt burning hot again, as if you were using all your energy just to get through each day.
Silently, Karl quietly watched the scene.
Then, almost involuntarily, he started walking toward them.
Despite his entire body aching, with his body protesting. Despite being utterly exhausted, his brain completely shut down. Despite having already decided to return to the hotel to rest.
Still, as if entranced, he unknowingly moved closer.
—It was indeed Anson.
At this moment, Anson was no longer the center of attention. The few people in front of him were passionately debating, rolling up their sleeves as if ready for a real fight, spitting as they spoke. But Anson remained focused, occasionally interjecting with concise but sharp comments.
Anson might not be the focal point, but he was always at the center, the core.
Karl couldn't help but take a closer look at Anson, recalling their encounter this morning at the cinema. Now, he could be 100% sure—
That morning, it was definitely Anson. Otherwise, how could he have talked so eloquently about Dogville?
Things were a bit peculiar.
Anson didn't seem like Anson Wood at all; he was just an ordinary film festival attendee, just like them—passionately defending the films he liked, and boldly criticizing the ones he didn't, wearing his emotions on his sleeve.
Yet, Anson was still Anson. His every move drew attention. At this moment, no one cared about appearances. It was purely about the collision of ideas. No one cared who proposed the opinion. The discussion was about the matter itself. But Anson's viewpoints were just as captivating.
So, what kind of charm was that—hormones? Or intellect?
Everything felt magical.
Less than 24 hours ago, reporters were lining up outside hotel rooms, hoping to catch a chance to interview Anson. But not everyone succeeded. And now, Anson was right there among them, engaging in a heated debate.
Is this Cannes?
The conversation shifted from Dogville to Elephant to Fathers and Sons, even extending beyond the Cannes Film Festival itself into broader territory. The real theme was simply movies, and nothing but movies.
Karl thought he was completely drained, that his brain cells had all shut down. But when they debated whether A Clockwork Orange was an offense to audiences or if 2001: A Space Odyssey was, he felt a surge of adrenaline. He couldn't hold back anymore and naturally joined the conversation without missing a beat.
The fatigue disappeared; the drowsiness was gone.
Karl felt like he could go for another ten days.
The atmosphere was electric.
Without anyone noticing, some people left while others joined. The crowd shrank and grew, with participants coming and going. Only the movies remained. It seemed like they could talk endlessly until dawn.
At Cannes, the movie was the true star, the only star.
No one noticed when Anson slipped away.
"…Are you sure? Leaving like this—is it really okay? Won't it be rude?" Scarlett asked uncertainly, looking at Anson in surprise.
She followed Anson as they left, but couldn't help glancing back repeatedly, worried that their departure would be noticed.
Anson waved his hand. "Don't worry. Their attention is all on the movies."
"But if you keep hesitating, we might get caught. Run!"
Without warning, Anson shouted.
Scarlett: ???
"What?" Scarlett looked confused and panicked but reflexively started running. "Wait, you can't just run off without me!"
She yelled, watching as Anson slowed down and turned around, walking backward. Scarlett bit her lip and sped up, overtaking him.
She didn't expect that within two seconds, Anson, with his long legs, would catch up. Scarlett let out a cry, adopting a full sprint to escape.
The two of them ran side by side, laughing freely and brightly as their laughter filled the seaside avenue. Several passersby turned to watch, and the flickering lights played across their youthful faces. They exchanged a glance, then, out of breath, started running again—
Careful not to get caught.
After running six or seven hundred meters, they finally stopped, panting and sweating.
Scarlett looked at Anson, and Anson looked at Scarlett. Neither could hold back their laughter.
Scarlett: "Which way are we heading now?"
Anson looked back. "When you're running away, there's no direction. Careful!"
Scarlett jumped and looked back but saw no one. Realizing she'd been tricked, she said, "Even if someone's chasing, it's you they're after, not me!"
Anson spread his hands. "But now you're my accomplice, like Clyde and Bonnie. So, you can't back out now."
Scarlett giggled. "So, I'm Clyde and you're Bonnie?"
Anson tilted his head. "I thought I was the mastermind?"
Scarlett hadn't expected her teasing to be taken so seriously and burst into laughter again, her mouth dry and her chest heaving. Looking at Anson under the moonlight, his bright smile was gentle yet dazzling.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Quickly turning her gaze to the right, she looked at the coastline. The deep blue sea shimmered and stretched out to the horizon, with countless stars scattered across the sky. The breathtaking sight stole her breath away.
It was stunning.