Chapter 190: Terrifying Popularity
"Master, is Miss Janna really scheduled to appear last?"
The person referred to as "Master" by the intern reporter Celine was the seasoned journalist Matthew, a tall and lean man with a scruffy beard and sharp eyes.
"The list was provided by an insider; it's accurate."
Matthew, engrossed in adjusting the cara equipnt, responded to Celine's question without even lifting his head.
"That ans we have to wait another three hours—did we arrive too early?"
Observing the sparse presence of fellow reporters around them, Celine, whose cheeks had turned red from the cold, couldn't help but breathe into her palms and rub her numb face.
"Intern, opportunities always favor the prepared. In our line of work, not being late is equivalent to being late. If you don't secure a good spot in advance, with so many reporters around, what makes you think your photos will catch anyone's eye?"
Still not lifting his head, Matthew's reply, though logical, didn't quite register with the increasingly frozen Celine.
"Master, I'm going to buy a hot coffee. Would you like one?"
"No need. Just get one for yourself."
Hearing this, Celine, unable to bear the cold any longer, stopped paying attention to Matthew. After setting up the cara tripod, she quickly dashed across the street to a dessert shop to purchase hot coffee.
"Finally, I feel alive again."
Feeling the warmth inside the shop, Celine straightened her previously hunched body.
"Of all tis to open, they had to choose winter—it's freezing."
After quickly ordering two cups of hot coffee and feeling sowhat recovered, Celine gritted her teeth and pushed open the shop door again, braving the dry, cold winter wind to return to Matthew's side.
"Master, this cup is on . Have a sip to warm up."
"Thank you—but I hope next ti you listen carefully and don't buy coffee again."
Looking at the hot coffee Celine handed over, Matthew, still adjusting the cara, rely glanced at her, took the coffee, placed it on the ground, and continued working.
"Such an unfeeling guy!"
Seeing Matthew's lack of appreciation, Celine couldn't help but mutter inwardly. She then took a sip of her coffee and continued assembling her cara stand.
"People are starting to gather."
With an hour and a half remaining before the event, the previously quiet entrance of the Bauhinia Auction House suddenly beca crowded.
In no ti, all the pri photography spots were occupied by reporters who had arrived early.
Latecors could only line up in the second row, finding spots with relatively poorer views.
"Master was right after all."
As ti passed quickly, the entire exterior of the Bauhinia Bank was soon surrounded by a crowd of reporters. Among them were nurous fans of theater actors and various onlookers, making the entrance of the Bauhinia Auction House extrely congested.
Standing in the front row, Celine felt increasingly fortunate for arriving early; otherwise, they might have had to climb trees to take photos.
"Such terrifying popularity."
Now, with only five minutes left before the opening ceremony, Celine noticed that the majority of the surrounding discussions were about Janna.
Whether reporters, fans, or even so onlookers who had never watched an opera, all were coincidentally talking about Janna.
For these onlookers, many had never seen Janna in person, and much of what they knew about her was hearsay.
However, during this period, the na "Janna" had been ntioned so frequently by others that their curiosity about her grew.
Their curiosity wasn't about her opera singing skills. After all, for non-opera enthusiasts, watching an opera was just an occasional novelty, not sothing they regularly paid attention to.
But the legendary "beauty" of Janna made them feel an irresistible urge to see for themselves and discern the truth.
This was precisely the main reason the Bauhinia Auction House had spent a fortune to invite Janna and other celebrities.
"Here they co! Finally, soone is arriving!"
As the opening ceremony of the Bauhinia Auction House officially began, luxurious carriages started to arrive at the entrance.
Even though everyone knew that the initial arrivals were likely lesser-known figures, the reporters, having waited in the cold for so long and eager for so excitent, courteously raised their caras to capture the approaching carriages.
"Don't waste film. For unimportant people, just take a casual shot."
"Got it, Master."
Hearing Matthew's words, Celine took a token photo and then silently waited for the subsequent guests.
"Keep an eye out. Don't miss any newsworthy monts."
"Yes, Master."
As more people entered, the crowd's excitent grew.
Half an hour later, when the Nightingale Opera Troupe's carriage slowly arrived, the crowd around the Bauhinia Auction House beca visibly excited.
"Look, it's the Nightingale Opera Troupe!"
"Is it Miss Janna? I can't see her!"
Soone shouted, and the na "Janna" echoed repeatedly among the crowd.
"You're mistaken. It's not Janna; it's Anna Moonshadow from the Nightingale Opera Troupe."
Dressed in a deep black evening gown, Anna Moonshadow, accompanied by Klan Roland and David Berg, gracefully stepped down from the carriage.
However, upon realizing it wasn't Janna, the previously fervent atmosphere noticeably subdued.
"Miss Anna looks stunning tonight!"
The black high-slit gown, paired with a snow-white faux fur shawl, accentuated Anna Moonshadow's curvaceous figure. Combined with her naturally strong aura, she exuded an irresistible charm that captivated those around her.
"Indeed, but she's a bit too tall."
Standing at 1.85 ters, and wearing silver-white high heels, Anna Moonshadow was even taller than the two gentlen beside her.
This made the petite Celine feel a tinge of envy.
"Miss Janna should be up next."
Watching various actresses enter, Celine, while busily pressing the shutter, grew increasingly eager for Janna's grand appearance.
"Miss Janna has arrived!"
Soone shouted, and upon hearing the na "Janna," the already lively crowd erupted like water poured into a hot oil pan.
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