Round-faced woman’s gaze toward her had shifted from envy to sympathy: “Uh… your husband is really cool.”

“Yes.” Mason Scott replied awkwardly.

A moment later, the staff appeared, but Ian Mitchell was still nowhere to be seen. Mason Scott went out to look for him and found him standing outside the door, his back to her, smoking.

“You can still leave now.” He recognized her footsteps and spoke without turning his head.

She knew he couldn’t see her, but she still shook her head. “Let’s go in.”

“Mason Scott, this is your own choice.” He spoke heavily above her, “From now on, even if we spend our whole lives tormenting each other, I won’t let you go.”

It was early autumn, and it shouldn’t have been that cold, but Mason Scott suddenly felt a chill in the wind, seeping from her feet all the way to her heart.

What followed was a series of procedures. Mason Scott couldn’t help but find it unbelievable—just these things, a few sheets of paper, a few stamps, could actually bind two people who were originally unrelated together for a lifetime, no matter what their pasts were.

Just over an hour ago, she hadn’t imagined that she and he would become husband and wife. Such a drastic change almost made her doubt whether any of this was real…

“Sign!” Ian Mitchell’s gloomy voice suddenly sounded in her ear. “You have no chance to back out now.”

She snapped back to reality, realizing she’d been dazed for too long before signing. She hurriedly signed her name and handed it to the suspicious staff member.

“Miss.” The staff member took the form and hesitantly asked again, “Are you really doing this of your own free will?”

Ian Mitchell’s expression was terrible.

“Of course.” Mason Scott said with a smile, “I was just thinking about what color curtains to choose for the house.”

When they left the Civil Affairs Bureau, Ian Mitchell tossed her a set of keys: “Move all your things to my place. As for the color of the curtains, change them however you like.” He said with a hint of sarcasm.

Mason Scott didn’t notice his sarcasm. Holding the keys, she felt unsettled. It was all so fast, but wasn’t it inevitable?

Ian Mitchell then took a bank card from his wallet: “All expenses will be paid from this. The password is XXXXXX. Got it?”

Mason Scott nodded, then quickly shook her head: “You don’t need to give it to me, I have my own.”

Ian Mitchell said coldly, “I don’t want us to have an argument on our first day of marriage because of this.”

Knowing how stubborn he was, Mason Scott accepted it helplessly, vaguely sensing something was off.

“What about you?” She felt like he was excluding himself from everything.

“Me? I have to go on a business trip to Guangzhou for a week.” He glanced at his watch. “The flight is in an hour.”

She was probably the most independent newlywed wife in the world.

On the third night after the wedding, Mason Scott sat in the living room of Ian Mitchell’s home, staring blankly at the pile of things she’d moved over.

These go in the kitchen, those in the study, and the photography equipment—she needed a darkroom… Where should her clothes go? The master bedroom?

Should she call and ask him? She stared at the phone.

A melodious ringtone sounded. If it hadn’t been so different from her own, she might have answered it reflexively.

She opened the door and was taken aback. She recognized the casually dressed woman standing there—it was the “vixen” Miss that Xiao Hong had mentioned. The woman was also surprised to see her, gave her a discreet once-over, and asked, “Is… Lawyer He here?”

“He’s on a business trip. Um, would you like to come in and sit for a while?” Mason Scott said politely.

“Sure, I won’t stand on ceremony then.” She walked in and introduced herself, “My surname is Wren. I used to be Lawyer He’s client, and I live downstairs.”

She looked at Mason Scott, a bit puzzled: “Have we met before?”

So she hadn’t recognized her. Mason Scott nodded and mentioned someone they both knew. “Hank Cooper”—that was Xiao Hong’s full name.

“Oh right, you’re the one who accompanied her to the blind date!” Miss Wren suddenly realized, then said thoughtfully, “So you know Lawyer He. No wonder.”

Mason Scott looked at her in confusion.

Miss Wren shrugged: “I mean, no wonder the great Lawyer He would personally pick me up after work to discuss a case. Turns out he had other motives. I owe it to you.”

She tossed a bag to Mason Scott: “These are wontons I made. I brought the extra. Honestly, I made a fool of myself for nothing.”

This lady looked delicate, but she was straightforward and efficient in speech—just like when she argued with Xiao Hong. Mason Scott felt awkward, not knowing whether to admit or deny it.

Miss Wren waved her hand: “That’s it, I’m leaving.” As Mason Scott saw her to the door, she suddenly asked about Xiao Hong, “Is she still going on blind dates all the time?”

Mason Scott caught a trace of concern in her eyes and shook her head: “No. She’s about to settle down.”

Miss Wren’s eyes flashed: “It’s not that guy who makes game software, is it?”

“No, he’s a surgeon.”

“That’s good.” Miss Wren looked relieved. “She’s finally come around. Tell her not to hate me—the man never loved me.” Then she changed her mind, “No, actually, don’t tell her yet.”

After she left, Mason Scott looked at the wontons in her hand, hesitated for a moment, then picked up the phone and dialed Ian Mitchell’s cell.

The call was answered after three rings.

“Hello.” His deep voice came through.

“Hello.” Mason Scott replied, only then realizing her voice sounded different than usual. She quickly calmed herself. “It’s me.”

“What is it?”

“Um, it’s like this… Miss Wren from downstairs just brought over a bag of wontons, and she said thank you for helping her last time.” As soon as Mason Scott finished, she realized she’d chosen the worst possible opening and regretted it immediately.

Sure enough, there was a few seconds of silence, then his mocking voice: “What are you suspicious about? Don’t worry, even if I ever had any thoughts about her, it was only ‘attempted’.”

The implication was that, as the one who had “succeeded,” she had no right to question him. Mason Scott rationally changed the subject: “I wanted to ask if I could turn your storage room into a darkroom?”

“Whatever. Anything else important?”

“Yes… um, where should I put my things?”

There was a pause on the other end. “Mrs. He, your husband is healthy in both body and mind, and has no plans for separate bedrooms at the moment.” He said sarcastically.

This call was a complete disaster. Mason Scott gripped the receiver and finally asked, “When will you be back?”

“…Friday night.”

“Okay, I’ll wait for you.” Mason Scott blurted out without thinking. Only after she said it did she realize how much meaning was packed into those words, and she held her breath.

There was silence on the other end, then a click, and the busy tone sounded. Mason Scott was stunned—he actually hung up on her!

Ian Mitchell put away his phone and pushed open the door to the private room. As soon as he entered, President Li from the foreign trade company stood up to toast him: “Lawyer He, where did you go? Come, let me toast you again. Today’s negotiation was truly brilliant.”

Ian Mitchell smiled politely, clinked glasses, and drained his drink.

It was just the usual flattery and small talk. After more than an hour, President Li said, “Lawyer He, I think we’ve eaten enough. How about we go somewhere else?”

A group of men immediately caught on and smiled suggestively.

It was obvious what kind of place they meant. Ian Mitchell quickly said, “President Li, you all go ahead. I’ll head back to the hotel.”

“Lawyer He, that’s not very sporting of you.” President Li pretended to look displeased.

Ian Mitchell smiled wryly: “Honestly, my wife keeps a tight rein on me. She just called to check up on me. If she calls the hotel and I’m not there, I’ll have no peace at home.”

The group of men immediately put on expressions of shared suffering. President Li said, “Since you insist, we won’t force you. Let Xiao Yang drive you back.”

The driver, Xiao Yang, stood up to take him, but Ian Mitchell declined: “No need, the hotel isn’t far. I’ll walk back and enjoy the night view.”

Finally free, Ian Mitchell didn’t want to return to the hotel. He turned and walked in the opposite direction.

Guangzhou is such a dazzling city, it’s easy to get lost in its brilliance. Ian Mitchell strolled through a plaza, weaving among the elderly, couples, and children, enjoying the peace found amid the bustle.

Suddenly, a flash of white light. Ian Mitchell turned his head—someone nearby was taking photos. Two girls who looked like students, probably tourists, were taking pictures in the square.

For some reason, he thought of her. The first time he met her, there was also a flash of white light, and then he saw a girl holding a camera, smiling at him.

No one likes being photographed without permission, but he hadn’t said anything at the time, just frowned and glared at her.

At first, she looked a bit guilty under his glare, but quickly regained her composure and, playing the victim, said, “Hey, I was just taking pictures of the scenery. Why did you suddenly walk into my shot?”

He had been a little angry, but after what she said, he didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. He simply ignored her and walked away. Unexpectedly, she chased after him and asked, “Hey, why are you leaving?”

If he didn’t know how to fight back at this point, he’d be unworthy of being a top law student: “Weren’t you taking pictures of the scenery? I’m giving it back to you.”