After all, as a mother, Mabel Quinn stuffed quite a few photos into her daughter’s little backpack when she went to kindergarten the past couple of days. When the child returned with fewer photos, how could Mabel not guess what had happened?

However, Mabel truly didn’t expect that her darling daughter wouldn’t just gift those photos to her classmates, but actually sell them.

And that certain film star supplying the photos free of charge, while deftly signing his name, remarked, "No worries, using these photos to build good relationships with others at kindergarten isn’t a bad idea."

If those media reporters or the fans from his support club heard these words, they’d probably be shocked. After all, an autograph from Atlas Shaw is quite rare; even on the black market it’s fetching 5000 bucks a piece, and that’s for the most mundane version. Simply because this guy is too lazy to sign.

For instance, once the organizers hoped he would sign for at least a hundred lucky guests, but he signed three and called it a day. The organizers were entirely helpless in dealing with him.

And for his fans, those who love him, love him to death; and those who criticize him, do so tirelessly. Yet after criticizing, they still watch his TV dramas and films, buy tickets when they should.

This kind of charisma in a person makes others truly envious and jealous.

But he’s indifferent to hatred himself. As for fame, as for image, he’s really not interested in maintaining them. The reason for acting wasn’t rekindled passion for performance, but simply because someone once told him, "If life seems boring, then try acting, experiencing different lives, maybe one day it won’t be that dull then."

"So do you like watching me act?" He asked back then.

"When you act, it feels like you radiate light, making people uncontrollably fix their gaze on you." That was their response at the time.

Thus, he started acting, partly to see if he could feel less bored, and partly to see if, when he acted, she would really focus her gaze on him.

At this moment, Atlas Shaw finished signing the last photo, looked at his own picture and said, "Why do people like buying these pictures so much? I can’t see what’s so great about them."

He’s the only one who’d phrase it like that about his photos.

Mabel Quinn rolled her eyes, "Because you’re handsome; you’re the heartthrob of countless young women."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow slightly, suddenly stood up, one hand against the table, leaned over, his face close to hers, gaze intense, "Then to you, am I too?"

She was slightly startled, as such a strikingly handsome face suddenly approached, it’s hard to remain unaffected. Thankfully, over the years she’s built up immunity, "I’m no longer a young girl; I’m already a mother." She replied.

"Is it really just because of that?" He smiled, and suddenly his expression changed, eyes filled with deep emotion, murmuring, "Yet even if this world has tens of thousands who love me, all I want is for your gaze to rest on me, even if only for a few moments." That gentle voice, along with the expression on his face, enough to draw someone in.

But the next moment, that slender hand lightly flicked his forehead, "Are you trying to rehearse a scene with me again?"