She immediately blushed, and after a long pause, stammered, “Alright, I admit I secretly took your photo.”

　　At least she knew how to admit her mistakes, so there was still hope. Ian Mitchell started walking, but she followed him at a leisurely pace. After a while, Ian Mitchell couldn’t help but turn around: “Why are you following me?”

　　“You still haven’t told me your name or department,” she said innocently.

　　“Why should I tell you?”

　　“If you don’t tell me, how can I give you the photo?”

　　“No need.”

　　“Oh.” She nodded, looking unconcerned. “Then I’ll just have to develop it and ask around everywhere.”

　　He couldn’t believe it: “Stop right there.”

　　“What? Are you worried I won’t be able to find you?” She looked as if telling him not to worry. “Even though there are tens of thousands of people at the university, where there’s a will, there’s a way. I’ll ask one by one, and I’ll find you eventually.”

　　Well, then he might as well not show his face at school anymore. Ian Mitchell gritted his teeth: “Ian Mitchell, second year, International Law.” With that, he turned and left, and even after he’d walked far away, he could still hear her laughter.

　　Two days later, she really did find him. Like presenting a treasure, she pulled out the photo. In the picture, he was deep in thought under the setting sun. “Look, look! This is the first time I’ve managed the light and shadow effects so well! Do you see the sunlight filtering through the leaves?”

　　But when he looked up, he saw sunlight dancing on her face—so unreasonable, breaking through the gloom and shining straight into his heart without so much as a greeting, leaving him no time to refuse.

　　She was the only ray of sunshine in his gray life, but this ray of sunshine did not shine on him alone.

　　During those seven years apart, there was another man...

　　Ian Mitchell closed his eyes.

　　Admit it, Ian Mitchell, you’re mad with jealousy.

Chapter Seven: So Close

　　The new issue of "Show Color" was out. On the cover, a young man smiled with pride—he was a rising star in architecture, having won several international design awards in recent years and was now at the height of his fame.

　　“What a pity, he’s just not handsome enough,” Ruby commented with infinite regret.

　　“That Lawyer Mitchell is handsome, but unfortunately, some people just can’t get an interview with him,” Amy said loudly.

　　“Amy, don’t say that,” Ruby couldn’t stand her sharp tongue. “Jensen already tried her best.”

　　Mason Scott happened to walk by and overheard, so she glanced at Taylor Jensen, who was quietly writing copy at her desk, ignoring everyone else.

　　Mason Scott suddenly felt a bit guilty, and a little uneasy.

　　“AshAsh.” Ruby suddenly remembered something and clung to her arm ingratiatingly. “We’re friends, right? You wouldn’t refuse to do me a little favor, would you?”

　　Mason Scott immediately had a bad feeling and asked cautiously, “Ruby, is there a problem with you and that surgeon…? Otherwise, why are you matchmaking again?”

　　“Ugh! What are you thinking!” Ruby pouted, cupping her face in her hands, looking as if she was in a sweet relationship. “It’s this!” She pulled out an absurdly large sheet of paper from who knows where and shook it open in front of her. “See clearly?”

　　She saw it, and was dizzy. At the top, in the center, were the big words “Shopping List,” and below, a dense list of all kinds of brands of clothes, shoes, cosmetics… and even a digital camcorder?

　　It was truly a mixed bag. Mason Scott was dazzled. “Ruby, is there going to be a price hike soon?” This was basically a “panic buying list”!

　　“Hehe, isn’t it because you and Sister Collins are going to Hong Kong? Don’t change the subject. Just say it—will you take it or not?”

　　News really travels fast. Mason Scott sighed, “What’s in it for me?”

　　After work, Ruby’s Dr. Bennett treated them to dinner. At the table, Ruby kept reminding her, “Ash, you know what they say—‘you can’t refuse someone who’s fed you,’ right?”

　　Mason Scott couldn’t help laughing. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you carry so much stuff my arms will go numb. But, Ruby…” Mason Scott leaned in and whispered, “Aren’t you going to keep up your ladylike image?”

　　Oh no! She’d forgotten again! Ruby reflexively straightened her back, put away her debt-collector face, and forced a perfect smile. Mason Scott saw the elegant Dr. Bennett’s eyes twinkle with amusement—he had clearly noticed, and was enjoying it.

　　She couldn’t help but smile too. Ruby had finally said goodbye to her past.

　　After dinner, Mason Scott went home alone. Only after getting on the bus did she realize she’d taken the wrong one—it was heading toward her old neighborhood. She quickly got off at the next stop, checked her watch—it wasn’t even seven yet, so there was no rush to go home.

　　She wandered around the supermarket for a long time and didn’t get home until after nine. When she opened the door, the apartment was empty.

　　She went into the kitchen and took out the things she’d bought: MSG, salad oil, salt, soy sauce… There was nothing in the kitchen. What did Ian Mitchell usually eat?

　　There were still some clothes in the bedroom that hadn’t been put away. She opened the wardrobe—inside, Ian Mitchell’s suits and shirts hung neatly, monotonous and cold. He seemed to prefer gray tones. Mason Scott hung her own clothes next to his, then stared at them blankly, suddenly wanting to smile.

　　But her heart ached.

　　Ian Mitchell…

　　Ian Mitchell.

　　She took off her shoes and lay on the bed. She’d been sleeping in the guest room these past two days, but now, she suddenly didn’t want to leave. A strange, indescribable feeling flooded her chest—maybe because of tomorrow.

　　Tomorrow was Friday. Ian Mitchell would be back.

　　She fell asleep in a daze, still in her clothes. She didn’t know how long she slept, but in a half-dream, half-awake state, she seemed to hear someone moving around. She turned over, and after a long while, woke up—the room was pitch black.

　　When she woke again, it was already morning. She lifted the covers and got up… Covers? Mason Scott was stunned for a moment. Hmm, maybe she’d pulled them over herself when it got cold at night.

　　She quickly brushed her teeth and washed her face. In the mirror, her hair looked a bit long, falling into her eyes—she’d have to find time for a trim. She grabbed her things and headed out. As soon as she opened the door, she froze.

　　Ian Mitchell, dressed smartly in a suit, was standing outside, holding a key, as if about to unlock the door.

　　Mason Scott stared wide-eyed at him. “Ian Mitchell?” Why was he here? Didn’t he say he’d be back at night?

　　“Mm.” Ian Mitchell put away the key and replied perfunctorily, walking past her into the guest room.

　　A moment later, he came out holding a file. Seeing her still standing dumbly at the door, he frowned his handsome brows.

　　“Aren’t you going to work?”

　　“Uh, I’m going now.”

　　For some reason, Mason Scott felt a little awkward. For the first time, she truly realized that their relationship had changed, and from now on, every morning, the first person she’d see would be him…

　　“I’ll drive you.”

　　Mason Scott followed him into the elevator. “No need, I can go by myself.” The law firm and the magazine office were in opposite directions.

　　Ian Mitchell pressed the button for the basement parking lot and said calmly, “I’m going to the X District Court. It’s on the way.”

　　“Oh, okay.” So that was it.

　　In the car, Mason Scott remembered to ask, “Did you… come back last night?” Otherwise, how could there be a file left in the guest room?

　　“Yes.” Ian Mitchell answered briefly, his attention on the traffic.

　　Mason Scott pursed her lips. “When… Why didn’t you call me?”

　　“A little after eleven.” He answered, a bit impatiently, then added after a pause, “There was no need.”

　　Mason Scott’s eyes dimmed slightly as she turned to look out the window. It was rush hour, and the traffic was a mess… Would they always be stuck like this?

　　“Ian Mitchell, if you’re in X District at noon, can we have lunch together?”

　　Ian Mitchell suddenly moved, turning his head. Mason Scott was looking out the window, her voice soft—was she talking to him, or to herself?

　　He turned his gaze back, his voice indifferent: “I probably won’t be there at noon.”

　　In fact, he wasn’t there in the morning, either.

　　“Ian Mitchell?” Old Wilson blinked his big, copper-bell eyes at the person walking into the law firm, imitating a girl by rubbing his eyes. “Am I seeing things? Is this a hallucination?”

　　“I think your problem isn’t just with your eyes.” Ian Mitchell shot him a glance and walked into his office.

　　The big guy trotted after him and sat down. “When I contacted you after seven yesterday evening, you were still in Guangzhou. How are you back already?”

　　“I was at the airport then.” Ian Mitchell sat down and opened a file.

　　“Everything settled?”

　　“Pretty much.”

　　If he said “pretty much,” it meant there were no problems at all. Sometimes Old Wilson couldn’t help but admire his junior. The Guangzhou case was already tight to resolve in a week, and now he’d finished a day early—how did he do it?

　　“You must have gotten home late last night, right? Why the rush? You could’ve come back today.” Old Wilson muttered, “If I didn’t know you were as single as me, I’d suspect you rushed back to be with your wife.”

　　The fountain pen, which had been writing steadily, suddenly jerked, leaving a heavy mark on the paper.

　　Ian Mitchell looked up from the file and unceremoniously issued an eviction order: “Old Wilson, if I remember correctly, you have a court appearance this morning.”

　　Beth saw Ian Mitchell come out of the meeting room and immediately handed him the documents in her hand. “Lawyer Mitchell, I’ve already printed out the materials you requested.”