The Greatest Showman #1338 - Like Thunder

The Watsons both graduated from the Faculty of Law at Cambridge University. After marrying, they moved to Paris, France, where Emma was born. Later, they settled in London following the divorce of her parents.

For the elite Watson family, attending Cambridge or Oxford University is seen as an essential continuation of their family tradition. Once Emma came of age, she chose Oxford University for further studies.

It's worth noting that during her primary school years, Emma attended Oxford Dragon Primary School, the same institution Renly had attended. Matthew Dunlop was also a student there, and Emma started school just a year after Renly.

In other words, their first encounter occurred over ten years ago.

Renly hadn't forgotten, though he wasn't sure if Emma had. But he believed she hadn't either.

During her time at Oxford Dragon Primary School, Emma was an active participant in the school's drama activities and quickly became the star of the school. She often invited Renly and Matthew to join in, though neither of them seemed particularly interested in the events.

Years passed, and now, Emma stood before Renly, smiling sweetly. Her graceful, slender posture and the elegant curve of her red lips added a sense of poise to her demeanor. "I just came over to say hello. Your name, Renly Hall, has been echoing in my ears for quite some time. My expectations for your work tonight are beyond words," she said with a smile.

Then, with a formal air, Emma raised her right hand to shake Renly's.

Renly raised an eyebrow at her gesture. It felt too formal, even ceremonial, and seemed to carry an unspoken meaning. However, as he gazed into Emma's sincere, bright eyes, he realized this was a friendly gesture—one he had no room to refuse.

So, he raised his own right hand and shook hers.

Flash. Light up.

Their hands clasped as the cameras flashed, capturing the moment under the eyes of the crowd. Reporters immediately noted the encounter, knowing it would fuel plenty of gossip.

Emma continued to smile, maintaining her composure as she gave a polite nod.

But as she tried to withdraw her hand, she realized that Renly was holding on firmly. His palm, slender yet marked by years of piano playing, felt soft but unyielding. Despite her attempts, she couldn't break free.

A slight panic set in.

Was this inappropriate?

A flurry of thoughts rushed through Emma's mind, and she almost voiced her discomfort. But when she met Renly's steady gaze, she found no signs of malice—just calm, unwavering confidence that made her feel exposed in ways she hadn't anticipated.

His eyes were a clear light brown, glowing faintly in the flashing lights around them, like the sea reflecting moonlight. They were transparent and pure, yet something deeper lay beneath their surface.

Emma froze. For the first time, she felt vulnerable, as if her thoughts and intentions were being laid bare. She could feel the weight of the moment, her control slipping away.

Her mind raced, and she briefly considered calling out, shifting the blame to Renly for making her feel uncomfortable. She could have easily played the victim, especially in a setting like this, in France, where the situation could be viewed through a different lens.

But the words stuck in her throat. Under Renly's clear, unflinching gaze, she couldn't bring herself to speak.

"...Mr. Hall," Emma managed, forcing a smile to mask her discomfort. She tried once more to free her hand, but still couldn't. It felt as though she were trapped in a cage.

Renly didn't answer. He simply observed her.

He was familiar with such tactics, aware of the games people played in the social spotlight. He had no interest in being part of such schemes. This moment wasn't about using someone for exposure. He wasn't a stepping stone, nor was he interested in becoming one.

Emma, however, had clearly underestimated him. Whether this was her own decision or the work of her agent, Renly wasn't sure. But he could tell it hadn't been carefully thought out.

"Miss Watson." Renly's smile spread, subtle yet captivating, like a brief but brilliant flash under the moonlight. It was elegant, and despite Emma's efforts to keep her composure, her gaze faltered, avoiding his eyes. "I hope you enjoy the movie tonight."

His words, casual yet firm, emphasized the word "movie." The statement felt like a quiet yet profound reminder of their true purpose here, a message that cut through the surface theatrics.

The grip on her hand loosened, and Emma was finally able to pull away. She swayed slightly, her balance unsteady as she took a step back, embarrassed. Renly, however, maintained his calm, gentlemanly demeanor, as if the entire situation had never affected him.

For Emma, the moment felt like an uncomfortable dance on the edge of a precipice. Her back was soaked with cold sweat, her heart racing.

She glanced at her hand, still hanging in mid-air, before retracting it with a forced composure. She adjusted her hair, trying to regain some sense of control, though it was a struggle.

The more flustered she became inside, the more rigid she had to appear on the outside.

Her voice quivered as she attempted to say something else, trying to assert her composure, but it came out as empty and awkward as she feared. "Mr. Hall, I hope we meet again. Best of luck with your movie tonight. I truly admire your work, and I have high expectations for tonight's performance."

The words felt meaningless. They came out weak and unconvincing. But Emma forced a smile and, with her chin held high, turned away. She walked toward the reporters, once again presenting her dignified façade.

Unbeknownst to her, the reporters didn't notice the underlying tension between them. Instead, they eagerly focused on the "first meeting" between Renly and Emma.

"Emma, what do you think of Renly's films?" one reporter asked. "Do you personally admire his work?" "Could you see a collaboration between you two?" "What did you talk about just now?" "Were you here for Renly?"

The questions flooded in as Emma's fingertips trembled.

That devil.

She had no malicious intent, just trying to ride the wave of exposure that Renly's presence could provide. But now, she was caught up in something far more complicated.

She clenched her fist, steadying her shaking hand, but outwardly, she maintained her composure. She smiled, answering the questions with the grace and elegance she had mastered over the years.

Standing behind, Renly didn't rush off. He allowed Emma the courtesy of turning away first, maintaining his gentlemanly composure.

Childhood friendships may fade over time, but in adulthood, social interactions are more about navigating interests. Some people drift apart, while others find ways to get closer.

In this case, Renly knew that Emma's attempt was more than just social maneuvering—it was a game she didn't fully understand. But he didn't mind. He was curious whether she had acted on her own or was guided by her agent. Either way, it was clear she hadn't considered all angles.

Renly then turned his attention to the crowd, his demeanor shifting to one of warmth as he saw a familiar face.

"Mr. Li An," Renly greeted with a smile.

"Ah, good to see you again," Li An replied with a grin, noticing Renly's energy and teasing him. "Seems like you've been having a bit too much fun recently. You're in high spirits tonight."

Renly smiled and responded easily, "Who's to say I'm not in a good mood because I've been enjoying the festival?"