Leonard Campbell understood and said, “The investigative agency’s work must be very busy. Maybe you need to relax a little.”

　　Henry Harris took a deep breath, her gaze sweeping over the fruit plate beside her, which held many individually wrapped orange candies.

　　She originally wanted to ask whether Leonard Campbell knew “Xavier Daniels” or people like Andrew Forrest, but when the words reached her lips, she hesitated and only asked, “Do you mind?”

　　“Please help yourself.” Leonard Campbell smiled and said, “A lot of people really like this kind of candy. Sometimes, something as simple as candy can bring simple happiness.”

　　Henry Harris casually grabbed a handful, stuffed them into her pocket, and nodded to Leonard Campbell.

　　“Sorry to bother you.”

　　·

　　This conversation was almost fruitless; apart from putting a big cross over Henry Harris’s investigation plan, it provided no help at all.

　　She exhaled heavily as she left the teaching building, squinting slightly under the midday sun as she walked toward her car.

　　In the dappled shade of the trees, a familiar figure leaned against her car, backlit. When the car’s lights flashed as the electronic lock disengaged, the figure turned to look at her.

　　Henry Harris quickened her pace, pulled up a faint smile, and asked, “What brings you here?”

　　The Vault had both hands in her pockets, looking a bit absent-minded: “Had nothing to do, so I came out for a walk. I guessed you’d be here, so I just dropped by.”

　　Henry Harris glanced at her teasingly and said, “Where’s your little sidekick?”

　　The Vault replied with an awkward smile, “He’s not my sidekick—I can’t afford him.”

　　Henry Harris understood: “Had a fight?”

　　“Nothing like that.” The Vault lifted her chin in that direction and asked, “How did it go?”

　　Henry Harris opened the car door: “Let’s get in the car first.”

　　The Vault got into the passenger seat: “Did you get any leads?”

　　Henry Harris parted her lips and said self-mockingly, “I asked in vain.”

　　“He’s really impressive—he can see through others, but no one can see through him,” The Vault said. “No real progress, so how do you feel?”

　　Henry Harris recalled, “Actually, there was something.”

　　She reached into her pocket and tossed a candy to The Vault.

　　The Vault said with satisfaction, “That’s still a pretty nice gain.”

Chapter 107: Bold

　　Julian Grant returned to his office early in the morning, bringing a gloomy atmosphere with him. Susan Scott hadn’t even had time to be happy that the group finally had a leader, when he noticed his boss’s off mood and immediately felt depressed.

　　…It would’ve been better if he hadn’t come. Is he going to make me guess what’s on his mind?

　　Susan Scott organized the documents that needed signing, tidying the edges and arranging them in order of priority. Only after making sure that even the nitpicking Julian Grant couldn’t find fault did he take the folder to find him.

　　Susan Scott knocked and entered, placing several documents in the center of the desk for Julian Grant’s attention.

　　Julian Grant leaned back in his chair, hands resting on his stomach, eyes dull and absent-minded, looking every bit like an old man brooding over life. He casually said, “Just leave them.”

　　A promising young man, fallen like this—work really is the root of all evil. Susan Scott sighed inwardly, then, unable to stand it, urged, “Boss, these documents are urgent. Please sign them first so I can get them bound. Otherwise, I’ll have to make another trip later.”

　　Julian Grant replied perfunctorily, “I’ll give them to you in five minutes.”

　　Susan Scott pressed, “Boss, can you be a bit more serious!”

　　Julian Grant suddenly jolted, quickly turned his head, and shot a sharp look at him. Susan Scott was startled by his glare.

　　“What do you mean, ‘serious’?” Julian Grant launched a soul-searching question, “Do you know how much money I can make in a minute? Do you know how much I can make in a day? Do you know how much it costs to hire me as a driver? I’m so rich it scares even me. My most valuable asset is time! If you measure seriousness by monetary value, then by that standard, my effort far exceeds 99% of people in the country!”

　　Susan Scott was almost knocked out by the word “money.” He looked deeply at Julian Grant, confirming that this was a madman he couldn’t afford to provoke, silently picked up the report, and tried to slip away as if nothing had happened.

　　Julian Grant pressed down on his documents with one hand, staring at him intently.

　　Susan Scott received the signal for two seconds, then angrily shouted toward the outside, “Who is it! Who on earth has upset our boss again! Stand up, will you! Hurry up and fix him, and I’ll let bygones be bygones!”

　　Julian Grant’s questions weren’t finished yet; he continued, “Am I not serious? I’m swamped with work every day, with countless ways to realize my self-worth, but I still run after her. Even things like ordering takeout at the hospital, I do myself. Honestly, even a lackey isn’t as attentive as I am. If I’m subtle, she really thinks I’m just an ordinary friend?”

　　Susan Scott felt like crying and kneeling before him, realizing he’d made a terrible mistake: “I was wrong, bro. You’re super serious. Especially when it comes to feelings.”

　　No matter what, never get involved in a straight man’s love life.

　　Julian Grant grew angrier as he spoke: “What does she want to count as serious? Going through hardships and sharing poverty with her? Is it my fault I’m too damn rich?”

　　Susan Scott felt a pang of jealousy. He also wished that one day he could be troubled by being too shallow because of his wealth. But right now, that was a realm he couldn’t comprehend.

　　Susan Scott tilted his head back, tears flowing inside, listening to Julian Grant vent grievances from another dimension. But when Julian Grant got no response, he lost interest after a couple of sentences and lapsed into a sage-like silence.

　　Susan Scott tried to comfort him: “Women, you know, are always unreasonable. Maybe she’ll figure it out after she calms down.”

　　Julian Grant narrowed his eyes, looking at him dangerously: “Are you about to badmouth her now?”

　　Susan Scott was shocked.

　　…Fine, is this how all you men are now?

　　·

　　Henry Harris changed into a pair of flat shoes in the car and casually asked, “Where should I drop you off?”

　　“Let’s go to the hospital first. Thanks.” Picking up that bouquet of white roses from the hospital was now a top, highlighted item on The Vault’s schedule. The Vault felt she’d never forget that pure bouquet of roses for the rest of her life.

　　Henry Harris didn’t know why her expression suddenly became a bit complicated, thinking she was reluctant to go to the hospital, so she changed the subject lightly: “Meeting Leonard Campbell today gave me a very special feeling.”

　　The bitterness on The Vault’s face did disappear; the corners of her mouth pressed down slightly as she said in a low voice, “Candid. Perfect.”

　　Henry Harris nodded, a hint of gravity in her tone: “Before meeting Leonard Campbell, I asked a few people who know him. Leonard Campbell grew up in a happy family, excelled academically, and was always in the spotlight. He went abroad for high school, then returned to work after graduation. Everyone who knows him speaks highly of him, including his ex-wife and his students. Of course, he’s had conflicts with people, but most weren’t serious, and not all were his fault… In short, his resume and life experience all show that he’s an outstanding, noble, and excellent person.”

　　The Vault didn’t react much, gazing calmly out the window as rows of green, tree-lined avenues flashed by in her pupils.

　　As for Leonard Campbell’s virtues, Quinn Foster had at least raved about them to her a dozen times, in even more artistic and exaggerated terms than Henry Harris was using now.

　　Professor Li just had that kind of charm that attracted fanboys.

　　Henry Harris paused, slowly turned the steering wheel, and asked, “Do you think someone can really keep up a façade for a lifetime? Even fool everyone in the world?”

　　The sunlight streaming through the car window cast a shadow across the wrinkles between her brows, adding a sharpness to her already striking features.

　　The Vault turned her head at these words, looking at her seriously: “If you think it’s him, then stick to your investigation. Maybe as you dig, someone else will turn up. Besides, he’s not exactly spotless.”

　　Is this really how you do an investigation? If so, Director Li’s hair will probably all fall out.

　　Henry Harris glanced at her a couple more times, then chuckled: “Isn’t he your relative? I thought you’d say something nice for him.”

　　“Hmm? With my relationship to him, my rationality doesn’t allow me to be biased.” The Vault flared her nostrils and gave a wry smile, “Looks like there’s no benefit to being related to me.”

　　Henry Harris sighed, “So you really did have a fight.”

　　The Vault was momentarily dazed, then shook her head: “No, not really. We just have different understandings of the future.”

　　Henry Harris asked, “What’s your understanding?”

　　The Vault’s lips moved, her mind turning over the question, but she couldn’t answer. She awkwardly changed the subject: “What about that drug dealer who attacked me last time?”

　　Henry Harris’s face immediately darkened: “He’s still with the narcotics squad. That guy’s addiction is severe—he keeps pretending to be crazy. When he’s a bit more lucid and we interrogate him, he denies everything. He says he overdosed, hallucinated, and lost consciousness, which is why he went after you. Now he claims he doesn’t remember anything from that time.”

　　The Vault sneered, “He knows who I am—he called me by name. He followed me on purpose.”

　　“There’s no surveillance, so we can’t prove it.” Henry Harris glanced at the rearview mirror and asked, “Do you know him?”