[I'm Heng, the coolest]: Whoa, VIP?! Even the admin of John Turner’s site isn’t this close.

　　To avoid sparking more speculation, William Carter casually picked a fan’s comment to reply to.

　　[Tsing_Summer]: A friend gave me the ticket.

　　As luck would have it, right after replying, he received a text from the “friend who gave the ticket”—Henry Clark.

　　[Xiqing, I can’t make it today, I’ve already informed the organizers, sorry.]

　　[No worries, I’m already at the venue.]

　　After sending the message, William Carter spun his phone around in his hand.

　　Henry Clark is a young writer, and the movie starring James Turner this time is adapted from his novel. Coincidentally, William Carter and he were high school classmates and good friends, and this VIP invitation was from him, though the author himself couldn’t make it.

　　After waiting half an hour with no sign of the event starting, William Carter felt a bit bored. He left the hall, walked down a long corridor, and entered a side lounge. The hotel had pretty good taste; he looked at a Goya painting on the wall, a rather high-quality replica.

　　As he was looking, someone suddenly bumped into him hard from behind, almost knocking him off balance and causing his phone to fly out of his hand. William Carter glanced back and saw several bodyguards in black uniforms, surrounding a celebrity even taller than the bodyguards, wearing sunglasses. William Carter recognized at once that this person was James Turner.

　　Likewise, James Turner immediately realized his bodyguard’s rude behavior, stopped his hurried steps, swiftly bent down to pick up the phone that had been knocked from William Carter’s hand, and handed it back to him through the crowd, his movements smooth and fluid.

　　“Sorry.” James Turner’s voice was deep and steady, not at all like a twenty-year-old rookie, carrying a strange charm somewhere between youth and maturity. Many fans nearby started screaming, holding up their phones to capture the moment. A heartwarming gesture like this, if posted on Weibo, would definitely get shared widely, maybe even go viral.

　　This was the first time being so close to James Turner; the sudden encounter was quite unexpected, but William Carter didn’t get nervous. He skillfully maintained a polite smile, making himself appear gentle and courteous. “It’s fine, thank you.”

　　William Carter reached out and took the phone from his hand, his cool fingertip brushing against James Turner’s finger as if by accident.

　　For about half a second.

　　James Turner’s expression didn’t change much—one could say there was no reaction at all. William Carter saw this clearly, but still smiled until James Turner left, then he returned to the hall.

　　Definitely a complete straight guy.

　　When he re-entered, James Turner’s fans were handing out free support items. A girl of about seventeen or eighteen stopped him and asked, “Hey handsome, whose fan are you? Do you want some support items?”

　　Wearing a mask, William Carter smiled with his eyes, his voice gentle. “Sure.”

　　The girl excitedly opened her bag, which contained headbands, badges, wristbands, and light sticks. “Which one do you want?”

　　William Carter took a badge, thanked her softly, pinned it to his chest, and returned to his seat.

　　The press conference started fairly on time. The host gave an opening, and the main cast and crew of the movie came on stage one after another. The film is adapted from Henry Clark’s novel "Seagull," telling the story of a jobless young man, Ouzi, who is tricked into going to Thailand by an acquaintance, sold as a commodity onto an unlicensed fishing boat, and forced to work for years without pay as a “shrimp slave,” eventually escaping through his own efforts.

　　James Turner plays such a young “shrimp slave.” To make his appearance closer to the character, James Turner lost nearly twenty pounds, and during filming looked almost skin and bones. At the first makeup test, he wore a tattered tank top and a pair of knee-length shorts so dirty they couldn’t be cleaned, his face covered in sunburn scars from years at sea, his shoulders and back black and red. Almost no one could recognize this young man as James Turner; even the director kept nodding in approval, praising that he was Ouzi himself.

　　It’s been almost half a year since filming wrapped. James Turner has regained much of his color, and after intense workouts, his physique is back to what it was before filming, with full, defined muscles. Watching this, William Carter couldn’t help but marvel—acting really isn’t something just anyone can do. You have to lose weight when told, and gain it back when needed, like a balloon.

　　He’d even gotten a buzz cut for the movie, which had grown out a bit but was still quite short, making his features look sharp and his gaze deep. He was different from most male stars his age, who mostly had gentle, delicate looks. James Turner was the exception—not gentle, not delicate, exuding masculine hormones from head to toe, his sharp features almost impossible to hide, with a natural aggressiveness.

　　William Carter had praised James Turner’s styling team after his transformation more than once, and they didn’t disappoint this time either. At the press conference, James Turner wore a gray-blue shirt tucked into dark gray suit pants, his solid muscles wrapped inside, broad shoulders and a narrow waist, with excellent lines—almost a perfect inverted triangle. At 1.92 meters tall, he was both steady and striking.