1660-1661

Chapter 1660: Speaking Honestly 

Annie stared at Anson in stunned silence, gradually sinking into shock and bewilderment. Her mind stopped working, but her heart began to race faster and faster. 

Seeing her expression, Anson couldn’t help but chuckle. “Annie, is your jaw okay? Not dislocated, I hope?” 

Annie instinctively touched her open mouth, glanced at Anson in embarrassment and panic, and took a beat before realizing the humor. Her heavy, stiff mouth curved into a natural smile. “Are you sure we’re talking about the kings without crowns?” 

Anson nodded seriously. “I might need to double-check.” 

He paused thoughtfully for a moment, as if carefully reconsidering, then gave a small nod. “Yeah, I mean them. The so-called uncrowned kings of the age of entertainment overload.” 

Annie burst out laughing. “Are you sure this is okay?” But even as she asked, she couldn’t stop smiling. “Ha, hahaha.” 

Anson spread his hands. “It’s the truth. Whether people want to admit it or not, it’s still the truth. And it’s not just now—Billy Wilder exposed who they were half a century ago. We think things are getting worse, but they never really changed.” 

Ace in the Hole, a film by legendary director and screenwriter Billy Wilder released in 1951, was a dramatization of a real-life news story: 

A man gets trapped in a cave while searching for treasure and is pinned by a rock, unable to move. A reporter, discovering the incident, manipulates the rescue efforts to generate headlines and extend the news cycle, ultimately causing delays that lead to the man's death. 

While presented artistically, people may have dismissed it as exaggerated. But real life often proves even harsher. 

From the past to now—nothing has really changed. 

Annie looked closely at Anson. “So what you’re saying is, we should just ignore their opinions?” 

Anson didn’t hesitate for a second. “Absolutely.” 

The reply was so straightforward, so matter-of-fact, that Annie was caught off guard. 

Anson shrugged lightly. “What I mean is, different roles bring different perspectives. Naturally, opinions and attitudes differ. We need to stay true to ourselves.” 

“We're actors. Our sole responsibility is to the character. As for the overall quality of the film, we only control a small piece of the puzzle.” 

“So no, I’m not shirking responsibility. I mean we need to face it openly.” 

“Good roles, bad roles. Great films, terrible films. They’re all part of us—they guide us toward becoming the actors we aspire to be.” 

“I’m still proud I did The Princess Diaries. I mean that.” 

Pfft! 

Annie couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing. “So the subtext is—it was a bad movie, but even though it was bad, you don’t regret doing it. Is that it?” 

Anson scratched his nose. “The focus is on the second part.” 

Annie: “Hahaha.” 

Anson: “Okay, fine. I’ll admit it. To me, it’s not exactly a masterpiece. If we’re talking rom-coms, I’d still prefer Pretty Woman, or Sleepless in Seattle. And of course, When Harry Met Sally—now that’s a good one. See what I mean? The Princess Diaries doesn’t quite make the cut.” 

“Would hearing that kind of critique hurt you?” 

Annie’s eyes sparkled with laughter. “No, not at all. If anyone’s hurt, it’s probably the director, right?” 

Anson: “Exactly. That’s my point. An actor is part of a film but doesn’t define the entire film.” 

“In a great movie, there might be some really bad acting. And in a bad movie, someone might still give an outstanding performance.” 

“Critics, audiences, directors—everyone has their own standards. Their opinions matter and should be heard. But they’re not everything. And they’re not always right.” 

He stopped speaking, and Annie naturally picked up the thread. “And the same goes for actors.” 

“We need to consider others’ feedback—critics, directors, whoever—but we also need to have our own perspective, to evaluate our work ourselves.” 

Little by little, the storm of frustration in Annie’s heart began to settle. The sparkle returned to her bright, expressive eyes. 

After a pause, she looked directly at Anson. “So… what did you think of my performance this time?” 

Anson’s heart skipped a beat. Is this a trick question? 

Anson: “You’ve improved, but not by a lot. It’s clear you’re more confident and daring, but you still have room to grow.” 

Annie narrowed her eyes and sized him up. “No, the truth. Anson, I need you to be completely honest.” 

Anson: “I’m not your agent—I’m not paid to tell the truth.” 

Annie couldn’t help laughing again. “Hahaha.” It was far from ladylike, but looking at the fully guarded Anson, Annie felt a warm rush through her chest, like happiness bubbling up. 

“Anson, if you’re not honest with me, then who else will be? In Hollywood, the hardest thing to find is someone who’ll tell you the truth.” 

There was a subtle bitterness behind the simplicity of her words. Anson gently lifted his chin, understanding what she meant. “The acting wasn’t a problem—the role wasn’t especially difficult. But I think you need a breakthrough. Otherwise, you risk being typecast, and the path ahead will only get narrower.” 

Annie took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. I get it.” 

Back when she filmed Ella Enchanted, Annie had already started sensing this—like a Barbie doll, she was slowly losing her sense of self. 

After The Princess Diaries 2, those thoughts became even clearer. 

But understanding something in theory is very different from experiencing it in real life. Especially now, as Princess Diaries 2 is screening and facing a wave of criticism, watching her own work get torn apart—it’s hard not to feel anxious and miserable, even if you know you shouldn’t. 

Her emotions were tangled and complex. 

Just as she started to relax a little, she found herself swept back into the storm. Annie realized this and tried to collect herself—she didn’t want to ruin Anson’s good mood. After all, Spider-Man 2 was soaring to new heights, and Anson was at the peak of his career. She wanted to be happy for him. 

A smile crept back to her lips—until she looked up and met Anson’s deep blue eyes, studying her closely. That gaze startled her. It was as if she’d been laid completely bare in front of him, every thought and feeling exposed. The words she’d meant to say caught in her throat. 

Anson’s lips curved into a faint smile. “You don’t have to pretend nothing happened. You’re allowed to be angry. To be sad. To feel whatever you feel. And of course, you’re allowed to take it out on me.” 

Annie picked up on the subtle implication in his words, tilted her head, and gave him a playful, half-smile. “Wait a minute—are you bragging about how well your movie is doing?” 

Chapter 1660: Speaking the Truth 

Annie stared blankly at Anson, slowly falling into shock and disbelief. Her brain stopped working, but her heart began to beat faster. 

That expression made Anson chuckle softly. “Annie, is your jaw okay? Didn’t dislocate from dropping too hard, right?” 

Annie instinctively reached to adjust her open mouth, glancing at Anson in embarrassment and panic. A beat later, she finally realized what had just happened, and even she found it funny. The heavy, stiff corners of her mouth rose effortlessly into a smile. “You sure you're talking about the uncrowned kings?” 

Anson looked dead serious, his face composed. “I might need to double-check.” 

He paused thoughtfully, as if seriously reconsidering his words, then gave a slight nod. “Yep. I mean exactly those uncrowned kings.” 

“The uncrowned kings of an era obsessed with entertainment.” 

Annie burst into laughter. “Are you sure you should be saying this out loud?” But even as she said it, she couldn’t stop laughing. 

Anson spread his hands. “It’s the truth. Whether you admit it or not, it’s still the truth. And not just now—half a century ago, Billy Wilder already exposed the true nature of these uncrowned kings.” 

“Ace in the Hole”, a film by legendary director and screenwriter Billy Wilder in 1951, was inspired by a real news event: A man searching for treasure gets trapped in a cave-in. A reporter learns of it and, trying to sensationalize the story for headlines, interferes with the rescue team’s judgment. They miss the best rescue window, and the trapped man’s condition worsens until he dies. 

Turned into a film, people might say, “That's exaggerated,” unwilling to believe such a thing. But reality is often much worse. 

From then till now, nothing has really changed. 

Annie studied Anson closely. “So you’re saying we should ignore what they say?” 

Anson didn’t hesitate for a second. “Absolutely.” 

His answer was so blunt, so straightforward, it left Annie momentarily stunned. 

Anson shrugged lightly. “What I mean is—different positions lead to different perspectives, and naturally, to different opinions. We should stick to our own path.” 

“We're actors. Our only responsibility is to the characters we portray. As for the film’s overall quality, there’s only so much we can control.” 

“So it’s not about dodging responsibility, it’s about facing it head-on.” 

“Good roles, bad roles. Good movies, bad movies. All of them are part of who we are—part of the journey to becoming the kind of actor we want to be.” 

“I’m still proud I was in The Princess Diaries. Truly.” 

Pfft! 

Annie couldn’t help herself and laughed aloud. “So the subtext is, it was a bad movie, but you don’t regret doing it?” 

Anson rubbed his nose. “The focus is on the second half of that sentence.” 

Annie laughed harder. “Hahaha!” 

Anson added, “Alright, I’ll admit it—personally, I don’t think it’s a classic. In that genre, I still prefer Pretty Woman, or maybe Sleepless in Seattle—and of course, When Harry Met Sally is also great. See, that’s what I mean. The Princess Diaries doesn’t really measure up.” 

“If someone said that, would you feel hurt?” 

Annie’s eyes were full of laughter. “No, of course not. The one who’d probably feel hurt is the director.” 

Anson nodded. “Exactly. That’s what I’m saying. Actors are just a part of a film—we don’t represent the entire thing.” 

“In a great movie, there might be terrible acting. In a terrible movie, an actor’s performance might still shine.” 

“Reporters. Audiences. Directors. Everyone has their own standards for judging a film. Their perspectives are valuable—but they’re not absolute, and they’re not always right.” 

He didn’t go on, because Annie picked up the thread naturally. “And the same applies to actors.” 

“We need to consider other people’s feedback—critics, directors, whoever—but at the same time, we need our own view, our own evaluation of our work.” 

Bit by bit, the turbulent anxiety in her heart settled. A spark returned to Annie’s luminous eyes. 

She paused and looked directly at Anson. “So, what do you think of my performance this time?” 

Anson’s heart skipped a beat—was this a trap? 

Anson said carefully, “There was progress, but not a lot. I could see you were more relaxed and bolder, but there’s still room to grow.” 

Annie narrowed her eyes and sized him up. “No—be honest. Anson, I need honesty.” 

Anson replied, “I’m not your agent. I’m not obligated to tell the truth.” 

Annie cracked up. “Hahaha!” She laughed unrestrainedly, with no ladylike poise at all. Seeing Anson's guarded stance, she felt a warm current flow through her chest, a slow-building happiness that spread gently inside her. 

“Anson, if you won’t tell me the truth, who else would? In Hollywood, the hardest thing to hear is a single honest sentence.” 

There was a tinge of bitterness behind her simple words. Anson lifted his chin slightly, understanding what she meant. “Your performance was fine. There wasn’t much difficulty in the role. But in my opinion, you need to break through, or you’ll get typecast. Once that happens, it’ll only get harder and harder to escape. That road narrows fast.” 

Annie took a deep breath and nodded slightly. “Yeah. I get it.” 

Back when she filmed Ella Enchanted, Annie had already started to feel that—like a Barbie doll, she was gradually losing herself. 

Now, after The Princess Diaries 2, that feeling had become clearer than ever. 

Of course, knowing something and experiencing it are two different things. Especially now, with Princess Diaries 2 currently in theaters and being slammed by critics—it was impossible not to feel anxious and frustrated. Knowing the truth didn’t make it easier to accept. 

Her emotions were complex and tangled. 

She’d just started to relax a little when the anxiety pulled her right back in. Annie noticed this and tried to steady herself—she didn’t want to ruin Anson’s good mood. 

After all, Spider-Man 2 was soaring, and Anson was at the peak of his career. She should be happy for him. 

She smiled again, but when she looked up, her eyes met Anson’s. That deep blue gaze was watching her intently, seeing right through her. She felt like all her thoughts had been laid bare—completely exposed before him. The words on the tip of her tongue suddenly got stuck. 

Anson smiled faintly. “But you don’t have to pretend nothing happened. You’re allowed to be angry, to be sad, to feel whatever you feel. And yes, you can even take it out on me.” 

Annie caught the subtle subtext in his words. Tilting her head, she gave him a teasing smile. “Wait a minute… is this your way of bragging about your movie’s box office success?” 

Chapter 1661: Secret Date 

“Wait a minute, are you bragging to me about how well your movie is doing at the box office?” 

Anne’s intuition kicked in. She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as she carefully examined Anson’s expression. A playful glint sparkled in her eyes—there was definitely more to his words than met the ear. 

But Anson didn’t deny it. 

Anne’s eyes widened. “Oh, wait… you’re not denying it?” Her beautiful eyes were filled with shock and surprise. 

A smile crept across Anson’s face, too genuine to hide. “Even if I don’t say it, do you really think the media would pass up such a juicy headline?” 

Anne dramatically clutched her chest as if she’d just been shot. “I can’t believe this… I never thought you were that kind of Anson!” 

Her expression made Anson sigh helplessly. He spread his arms as if to say, “Guilty as charged.” 

“See? That’s life. If people actually believe the perfect Anson Wood they see in the media, then real life is going to be very, very disappointing.” 

“So,” he asked, “are you ready?” 

Anne didn’t respond immediately. She still had her head tilted and hands on her chest, pretending to study the Christmas trees in the shop window. But there was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, as if she wasn’t sure she liked what she saw— 

Should she get a real tree? Or a fake one? 

Just that one look, and Anson understood. He straightened his back like he was bracing for judgment. Then he reached into the pocket of his work pants, almost like he had a magic pouch hidden in his chest, and pulled something out like it was no big deal. 

Anne’s eyes grew wide. When she saw what Anson had conjured, she instinctively reached out to take it, her face full of confusion. Her gaze bounced between the item in her hand and Anson’s face—then a wave of delight bubbled up in her chest, bright and sudden. 

“This…” 

It was Doraemon. Anne was now holding an actual Doraemon manga. 

Anson watched her face carefully, trying to figure out whether her shock was good or bad. He felt the need to explain. 

“I figured, with your packed promo schedule, most of your time’s spent napping on the road. But since you can’t sleep all the time, I thought maybe some manga could help pass the time during those in-between moments.” 

Anne held up the manga to him, eyebrows raised. “But Doraemon?” 

Anson shrugged. “I considered shoujo manga, but honestly, I know nothing about that genre. And are you sure you need more shoujo in your life right now? So I thought, well, Doraemon is probably a better fit for you than Dragon Ball, at least.” 

There was a beat. 

Then Anne threw her arms around him, crashing into his chest with full force. No words were needed—her hug said everything. 

Anson’s heart soared right along with hers. 

But the bliss was short-lived. A knock came at the door. Like a startled deer, Anne jumped back, trying to put as much distance between them as possible, even considering a mad dash across the room to prove her innocence. But the tiny dressing room gave her nowhere to run—her reaction was almost more suspicious. 

She turned and found Anson looking perfectly calm and composed, as if nothing had happened. 

“Come in,” he called out. 

The door creaked open, and a head poked in. Eyes pointed at the floor in an exaggerated act of modesty, but the assistant’s gaze was clearly scanning for shoe positions. 

“Anne, we need to head out. It’s peak traffic time, and I don’t want us to get stuck.” 

It was Anne’s assistant. 

Before Anne could say a word, Anson beat her to it. “Got it. We’ll be ready.” 

Then, with a grin: “And hey, if you want to look, just look. Your gaze isn’t any more intense than a spotlight.” 

Pfft. 

The assistant couldn’t help it. She actually lifted her head for a quick glance—only to meet Anson’s bright, amused eyes. 

Her heart skipped a beat. She quickly ducked out of the room. 

Anne: ??? 

She stared at the now-closed door, then turned to Anson with utter confusion. What just happened? 

Anson raised his hands in surrender. “I’m good at moving quietly, but I’m not a ninja. I can’t just vanish into thin air.” 

“And let’s be honest, Anne—did you really think we could keep this a secret from everyone around us?” 

Anne’s cheeks flushed pink. She opened her mouth hesitantly. “So you’re saying they all…” 

Anson didn’t answer. He didn’t explain or confirm—he just gazed at her with a look that clearly enjoyed her flustered expression. 

Panicking a little, Anne raised the manga. “Wait, there’s only one volume? I’ll finish this in, like, half an hour.” 

Anson remained cool. “Of course not. I’ve got plenty more. You do know the original manga ran for decades, right?” 

Anne blinked. “Seriously?” 

Anson gave her a bittersweet smile. “No. Sadly, the author passed away in 1996. The series ran for over twenty years but never got a real ending. We’re left to imagine the rest.” 

Anne stared at him, deflated, clearly not impressed with that twist. 

Anson chuckled softly and decided to ease up. “I’ve got a whole bunch more back at my place—enough to get you through your promo tour. I didn’t bring them today since I came light, trying not to attract attention. When’s your schedule done today? I’ll bring the rest then.” 

Anne hugged the manga to her chest. “But don’t you have your own stuff? You need rest. You probably need it more than I do.” 

Anson waved it off. “No worries. My schedule’s done. I’m resting. Nothing major planned. I’ll meet an actor later as a producer to discuss a potential project, but other than that, my day’s wide open.” 

He paused. 

“I just thought… if you’re not too tired, maybe we could catch a movie. Or go down to Venice Beach and enjoy the sea breeze.” 

“But if you’re too tired, then—” 

Before he could finish, Anne cut him off. “Okay!” Her excitement slipped out before she could control it. 

Anson looked at her quietly. 

Her cheeks turned red. She quickly cleared her throat. “I’m young, okay? Young people have energy. The real question is whether you, old man, can keep up.” 

Anson didn’t call her out. “I’ll try my best.” 

That loaded response made Anne even more flustered. “I—I have to go now. You wait here a bit before leaving. There are still a lot of people outside.” 

And with that, she fled like a startled kitten. 

But the moment she stepped out of the dressing room, her feet started bouncing. The gloom from earlier was gone—she walked with a spring in her step, even humming a little tune. 

To Anne, the weather in Los Angeles had never felt better. 

As for Anson, he stayed behind, unhurried. He waited for the crowd at the theater to thin before walking out the front door without any disguise. Calm and collected, he moved through the people without drawing much attention. 

Then he headed to the parking lot, hopped into his car, and drove away. 

Anne had her work. And now that his promotions were over, Anson had his own projects to pursue.