Walking up to the store entrance, she still felt reluctant to leave. This piece of clothing really suited him. Mason Scott suddenly remembered the card Ian Mitchell had once given her.

She hurried back: “Can I pay by card here?”

The “swish swish” sound stopped. “Miss, please sign here.”

She picked up the pen and almost habitually wrote her own name, but luckily remembered in time that this was Ian Mitchell’s card, so she should sign “Ian Mitchell”.

Ian Mitchell… a name she had written many times.

Once, what was she arguing with Ian Mitchell about? She couldn’t quite remember, only that she was studying alone, with her advanced mathematics book, working on problems. She was supposed to be doing rough work, but when she came to, the paper was already filled with “Ian Mitchell”.

Then suddenly, Ian Mitchell’s voice sounded behind her: “Mason Scott, you wrote it wrong.” He looked at her, his eyes smiling.

“How so?” The embarrassment of being caught vanished instantly. She picked up the pen and carefully wrote it out for him to see, “Ian Mitchell”—where was the mistake?

“The stroke order is wrong. For ‘何’, you should write the ‘口’ inside the ‘可’ on the right first, and the vertical hook last… Come on, write it again.”

She must have been dumbfounded by his seriousness, because she actually picked up the pen and earnestly prepared to write it again. Only after finishing one “何” did she snap out of it: “Ian Mitchell, why am I writing your name!”

Mason Scott handed the signed slip to the shop assistant, who smiled and gave her the bag: “We look forward to your next visit.”

Memories of the past made her mood, which had just improved, sink again. Walking out of the store, Mason Scott stood there in a daze.

The sweetness of the past was now out of reach, while the sorrow of reality clung to her every step. When would they be able to regain their former happiness? And when would these recurring emotions finally come to an end?

Thinking that Ian Mitchell wouldn’t be home so early, Mason Scott grabbed dinner on the street and didn’t get home until after eight.

She opened the door; as expected, the apartment was pitch black.

As she fumbled for the light switch, a deep male voice sounded.

“You’re back?”

“Ian Mitchell?” Caught off guard, Mason Scott was startled.

The voice came from the balcony. Ian Mitchell’s tall figure stood with his back to her, not turning around.

The air between them felt a bit oppressive.

“Why didn’t you answer the phone?” Ian Mitchell asked heavily, a red glow burning between his fingers.

What phone? Her cell phone? Mason Scott took her phone out of her bag and found it had been off. “My phone ran out of battery.”

Out of battery? So that’s it. Ian Mitchell seemed to relax suddenly, his voice now tinged with fatigue.

“Go to bed early.”

“Okay.” Mason Scott replied, then, after a moment’s thought, made up her mind and said, “Ian Mitchell, I have something to say to you.”

“What is it?”

Mason Scott bit her lip and said, “I feel like we’re not really like a married couple, we…”

“Is that so?” Ian Mitchell said with a hint of mockery. “Then what should a married couple be like? You should have more experience in this than I do.”

There was silence behind him for a long time. Ian Mitchell stubbed out his cigarette and turned around. Three or four meters away, Mason Scott stood holding a bag, lips pressed tightly together, her face pale.

“I bought you some clothes.” Mason Scott stared at the floor and said softly, “But I used your card to pay. Do you want to try them on?”

A sudden stab of pain made Ian Mitchell clench his fist instinctively.

After all these days, all he had ever hoped for was that one day Mason Scott could stand before him again, close enough to touch, no longer just a figment of his imagination. Now that she was truly standing in front of him, what more could he ask for?

“You…” Ian Mitchell softened his tone, but then abruptly stopped, glaring at her hair with a dark expression.

Sensing his intense, unmistakable gaze, Mason Scott looked up. He was looking at her hair? She felt a bit embarrassed. “…I cut my hair.”

“I have eyes, I can see.” His tone was stiff, and something was gathering in Ian Mitchell’s eyes. In the end, he turned away with restraint, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her any longer.

He quickly lit another cigarette. After a long while, he spoke in a deeply suppressed voice: “Go to sleep.”

“But…”

“Don’t talk to me right now.” He interrupted her harshly.

Even though she was exhausted from shopping, Mason Scott didn’t feel sleepy at all. Lying in bed, she listened to his footsteps moving from the balcony to the study, then after a long time, from the study to the guest room, followed by the sound of a door closing, and finally, silence.

Mason Scott didn’t even know when she fell asleep.

The next morning, her throat felt scratchy and uncomfortable. Based on years of experience, she figured she was coming down with a cold again.

Ian Mitchell was already gone. Mason Scott took some medicine, had a quick lunch, still felt unwell, and went back to sleep.

When she woke up, it was already dark outside. Ian Mitchell was standing by her bed, his hand on her forehead, his expression a bit serious.

Mason Scott looked at him, wondering if she was dreaming.

Ian Mitchell moved his large hand away. “Get up, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Uh…” Wasn’t that a bit much? “It’s just a cold.”

“You have a fever.”

“I already took some medicine,” Mason Scott insisted.

He looked at her, nodded, and said nothing more, getting up to leave. Mason Scott thought he had given up, and for some reason, she felt a little disappointed.

But Ian Mitchell went to the wardrobe, took out her clothes, and placed them in front of her.

“Are you going to get dressed yourself, or do you want me to help you?”

The IV drip fell drop by drop—she ended up at the hospital after all.

Thinking of how someone had almost forced her to change clothes just now, Mason Scott blushed, shooting an annoyed look at the person across from her reading documents.

Sensing her gaze, Ian Mitchell looked up, and Mason Scott quickly turned away.

Ian Mitchell didn’t mind. As if remembering something, he got up and left for a moment, returning with an entertainment newspaper, which he placed by her side.

Mason Scott pretended not to see it, and instead picked up a newspaper someone else had left on the empty seat next to her.

Ian Mitchell raised his eyebrows and let her be. If his wife wanted to learn more, studying securities investment wasn’t a bad thing.

Mason Scott glared at the newspaper she had grabbed. What was this! Most of it was messy charts, and the few words there were—a string of numbers and technical terms—made her head spin even more.

Regret!

Her eyes drifted to the colorful newspaper… She really wanted to pick it up. She glanced at Ian Mitchell; he was looking down, seemingly very focused.

He probably wouldn’t notice… She quietly reached for it, but just as she was about to grab it, Ian Mitchell suddenly turned a page in his document, and she quickly pulled her hand back.

Forget it! Mason Scott was discouraged. It was just a little over an hour, she could tough it out.

She could tough this out, but some things were harder to endure. Half an hour later, Mason Scott started to get restless.

Ian Mitchell noticed her fidgeting, frowned, and turned to a woman in her fifties nearby: “Could you do me a favor?”

After coming back from the restroom, Mason Scott couldn’t help but ask him, “How did you know what I wanted to do?”

He didn’t even bother to look up, tossing her four words: “General deduction.”

This guy! Mason Scott glared at him.

After returning from the hospital, Ian Mitchell watched Mason Scott fall asleep before turning off the bedroom light and going to the study.

Whether it was because she’d slept too much that afternoon or because of the IV drip, Mason Scott felt much more energetic and not sleepy at all. She tossed and turned in bed, then suddenly remembered something and nearly jumped up.

Oh no! She was going to Hong Kong tomorrow, and she hadn’t prepared anything at all. She had no idea what she’d been doing these past two days, to have forgotten something so important.

She hurriedly got out of bed and started packing her things into a travel bag.

She moved too quickly, and her documents fell to the floor. Mason Scott bent down to pick them up, but a hand was faster than hers.

Huh?

As she straightened up, her wrist was suddenly gripped tightly. Ian Mitchell held her documents, a shadow in his eyes: “What are you doing?”

“…Packing.” Her wrist hurt from his grip, and Mason Scott tried to break free, but he only held on tighter.

His eyes swept over the nearly packed luggage to the side, and the darkness in Ian Mitchell’s eyes deepened. “Where are you going?”

Remembering she hadn’t told him yet, Mason Scott obediently answered, “Hong Kong.”

Hong Kong?

Ian Mitchell’s anger began to build. If it hadn’t been for him happening to—no, it wasn’t just by chance! If he hadn’t come to check if she was sleeping well, would she have disappeared again tomorrow morning without him knowing a thing?

Did she have any sense of being a wife at all! Did she understand that she was already his wife, and could no longer just leave him behind and walk away like before?

Old wounds were ripped open again, and Ian Mitchell’s grip tightened uncontrollably, his gloomy gaze fixed on her: “Fine, tell me, how many years are you planning to leave for this time?”

What was he talking about? Mason Scott felt the dizziness of her cold returning, and the pain in her wrist was becoming impossible to ignore. “Ian Mitchell, can you let go of me first?”

Let her go?

No way!