The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 708

As night fell and the day's events concluded, the group decided against leaving, opting instead to spend the night in a town near the Somali border.

The accommodations in the border town were far from luxurious, but Matthew, having been here before, had prepared for everything.

Food was not an issue; the real problem was the mosquitoes.

"Thankfully, I brought mosquito repellent." Matthew sat in his room, inhaling the sharp scent. It seemed to have driven every last mosquito away.

"An absolute travel essential."

This time, among the supplies he had delivered to the refugee camps and orphanages were large quantities of insect repellent and soothing balms.

"Achoo..."

A sudden sneeze came from the doorway. Emma appeared, rapping lightly on the frame. "Matthew, can I come in?" she asked.

Matthew quickly replied, "Of course, come in."

Emma entered, wrapped in a thin blanket. She rubbed her nose delicately and asked, "What did you spray in here? The smell is so strong.""Oh..." Matthew picked up a small green bottle and gave it a shake.

"Mosquito repellent."

Emma tilted her head, thinking for a moment. She glanced around the room again. "There don't seem to be any mosquitoes in your room," she said.

Matthew shrugged. "They're gone."

"I'd better close the door," Emma said, turning to shut it behind her.

She walked over to the sofa in the middle of the room and sat down, pointing to a few red welts on her face. "There are so many mosquitoes. I’m being eaten alive. I swear they’ll drain me of all my blood before morning."

Matthew grabbed a large tin of balm and the bottle of repellent, setting them on the coffee table in front of her. "You should probably spray some in your room."

"Later," Emma replied, picking up the bottle to examine it. "I don’t want to go back just yet. A few more bites and my face will be ruined. I have so many 'Harry Potter' promotional events when I get back to Europe. How much foundation will I need to cover all these welts?"

Matthew picked up a glass of herbal tea and offered it to her. "You can stay here for a bit. I’ll go spray your room for you later."

Emma glanced at the unfamiliar tea. "Do you have anything to eat?" she asked.

"You didn’t eat dinner?" Matthew opened his suitcase and pulled out some pre-made sandwiches. He selected a few with different fillings and handed them to her. "This is all I’ve got."

"You really came prepared," Emma remarked, unwrapping a sandwich and taking a bite.

Seeing she had no interest in the tea, Matthew pulled a bottle of mineral water from his suitcase and set it down in front of her.

Emma opened the bottle and took a sip before glancing at his suitcase. "Did you pack a whole suitcase just for supplies?"

Matthew nodded. "I’ve been here before. I knew how bad the conditions could be, so I packed it specifically for this trip."

Emma finished the small sandwich and drank about a third of the water before stopping, obviously mindful of her calorie intake.

"You said earlier you were going to donate your earnings from 'Fast & Furious 4'. You weren’t serious, were you?" Emma asked, her voice hesitant.

Matthew had made the statement for a number of reasons. Ultimately, the real control lay with him and David Ellison, and it was not the kind of arrangement he could discuss openly. He had to be evasive.

"I’m just setting my sights a little higher," he said. "I want to make the 'Fast & Furious' franchise much bigger."

Emma tilted her head, studying him. "Is it really worth putting so much into charity?"

"You’ll understand in time," Matthew said with a smile, avoiding a direct answer.

"Emma, I’m not just an actor. I’m a businessman, too."

Emma understood the implication, of course. What businessman would willingly run a losing enterprise?

All the funds Matthew donated came from his two charitable foundations. While he contributed some of his own money, the vast majority was raised from other sources.

That was the advantage of being a major celebrity involved in philanthropy.

"Emma..." Matthew began, pulling a chair out to sit across from her. "If you look at the way society is heading, the feminist movement is only getting stronger. The same goes for children’s rights—they’ll always be fundamental. Keep fighting for the rights of women and children. Don’t worry too much about the immediate pros and cons. It will benefit you in the long run."

She nodded slowly.

What Emma lacked was experience.

"This is firsthand experience from someone who’s been down this road," Matthew added.

"I’ve been to the Dadaab refugee camps twice now," Emma sighed. "And I can’t help but feel it’s a total waste of UN resources and all the charity money being poured into this place."

Matthew asked directly, "You saw it too?"

Emma answered, "If all the donations and UN funds are really for the refugees, then why did I see so much fighting during the food distribution? And why are there so many Kenyans in the Dadaab camps? They make up almost a third of the population."

She was only nineteen, and her voice was filled with agitation. "Isn’t Kenya supposed to be the most stable and economically developed country in East Africa?"

Matthew did not answer right away. He had known about this situation before he even arrived.

Emma pressed on, "Matthew, I just don’t get it. Why are ordinary people flocking to refugee camps?"

Matthew paused again before answering. "Free food and water are better than hard labor. Even if the conditions are terrible, you don’t have to work to fill your stomach."

"Don't they want to make their lives better and live with more dignity?" Emma asked.

But she did not seem to need an answer, adding, "We saw so much uncultivated farmland on the way here, especially near the camp. I heard the translator say these people sneak into the camps just to live off the handouts."

"I heard that too," Matthew said.

It was hardly a secret. Before the trip, he had even heard Amanda mention that many of the so-called refugees in the Dadaab camps were not refugees at all.

Emma twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. "It just makes me sick to think that the supplies I helped collect are being given to those people, too."

"A lot of things in this world are more complicated than they seem. Don’t let it get to you," Matthew consoled her.

Thinking about the supplies they had delivered that day, Emma grew indignant. "I remember people telling the media that these people are lazy, that as long as they can get free food, they won’t bother to work. I didn’t believe it at the time, but after today..."

"Emma." Matthew cut her off, walking over to pat her gently on the shoulder. "You can say these things to me. But remember, never, ever say them in front of anyone else."

"I understand," Emma answered softly.

"I know words like that would get me accused of being discriminatory. I wouldn't say them publicly."

Matthew nodded. "You're a smart girl."

But Emma replied bitterly, "But I still can’t get it out of my head." Looking at Matthew, she asked, "How do you deal with it?"

"Some aid is inevitably going to be wasted on people who don’t need it. There’s no avoiding that," Matthew said slowly. "But both of my foundations employ professional teams who operate on the principle of 'saving those in direst need.' If my goal was to save every poor person... well, even if I took the fortunes of the hundred richest Americans and poured it all into Africa, I still couldn’t save everyone."

He meant that Africa as a whole was simply too vast, too chaotic.

But Emma misinterpreted his words. "It’s just that there are too many lazy people here who don’t want to change," she said.

She lowered her voice slightly. "I heard the translator say that when the UN World Food Programme distributes seeds, they don’t bother planting them. They just eat the seeds and wait for the next shipment."

Matthew remained silent.

People like that were not just in Africa; you could find them in any country.

He decided to change the subject and talked a little more with Emma about movies, especially about "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince," which would be released this summer.

He also learned that after the summer, Emma would be heading to North America for university. True to her academic nature, she had chosen Brown, an Ivy League school.

They chatted until eleven, at which point Emma returned to her own room. Lost in conversation, Matthew completely forgot his promise to spray her room with repellent.

As a result, he had just drifted off to sleep after a shower when a knock came at his door.

Matthew opened the door to find Emma standing there, clutching a large pillow. "What’s wrong?" he asked.

"Too many mosquitoes," she said, pointing to a fresh red bump on her forehead. "I can’t stay in there."

Hearing this, Matthew stepped aside. "Come on in," he said.

Emma did not stand on ceremony. She walked straight into the room, tossed her large pillow onto the only bed, and lay down.

Matthew closed the door and walked over to her.

"You..." Emma turned her head to look up at him. "What are you doing?"

Matthew sat down beside her, crossing his legs. "I’m going to have to charge you for taking my spot," he teased.

Emma buried her face in the pillow, her voice muffled. "I don’t have any money."

"Don’t worry," Matthew murmured, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. "I’m not looking for money."