“Ah? Oh.” Mason Scott looked down at her own feet—she had rushed out so quickly that she hadn’t even put on shoes.

Ian Mitchell set what he was holding on the table and gave the stunned group a polite nod. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Everyone nodded dumbly, and it wasn’t until the host’s figure disappeared behind the bedroom door that Beth finally snapped out of it.

“Lawyer Mitchell actually… with someone…” Gavin and Old Wilson exchanged glances, seeing disbelief in each other’s eyes, but the evidence was undeniable—bedroom, pajamas…

They shouted the answer in unison: “Living together!”

Idol shattered! Gavin’s heart broke—she’d thought Lawyer Mitchell was the epitome of propriety, but he was secretly living with someone!

It was a huge blow! Old Wilson was nearly in tears—if even Ian Mitchell was living with someone, and he himself was still single!

Henry Wilson, however, didn’t seem as surprised as the others. Although he hadn’t expected Ian Mitchell to live with Mason Morgan, he said, “I’ve always said, as long as it’s Mason Morgan, any of Ian Mitchell’s principles can be bent.”

As soon as he entered the bedroom, he saw Mason Scott lying face-down on the bed, her head buried in the pillow… Embarrassed?

Ian Mitchell walked to the bedside, pulled her up, and wrapped her in his arms. “Didn’t you say you’d be back tomorrow?”

“Mm, I came back early.”

“Why?”

Why what? Mason Scott immediately changed the subject, mumbling, “Ruby is going to be so mad at me—I didn’t get everything she asked for…”

Her complaints were silenced by Ian Mitchell, who kissed her deeply, urgently claiming her breath.

“…You’re seducing me.” Having just taken liberties with her, Attorney Mitchell announced her “crime,” his deep voice full of dissatisfaction.

Mason Scott stared wide-eyed—what a serious accusation! “How am I?”

“…You’re wearing my pajamas.”

“Your pajamas were in the bathroom. I forgot to bring them after my shower, then forgot to change…” Flustered, Mason Scott spoke in a jumble, regretting it like a mistake that would haunt her forever. “I’ll never do it again.”

Wouldn’t that be a big loss for him? Ian Mitchell smiled faintly. “Get up and eat.”

With everyone else? She shook her head. “No.”

Ian Mitchell said nothing. Mason Scott, feeling guilty, offered excuse number one: “Flying is really tiring.”

“Eat first, then sleep.”

Excuse number two: “I don’t know any of them.”

“You’ll have to get to know them eventually.” Ian Mitchell countered every excuse.

“….” Out of excuses, Mason Scott said miserably, “It’s so embarrassing, just now…” Standing at the door in his pajamas, hair a mess, half-asleep…

Sigh! Ian Mitchell sighed, reaching for the clothes by the bed. “I’m used to it. I’ll go out first—get dressed and come out.”

When Ian Mitchell went out, everyone had already regained their composure. After all, everyone here was either a lawyer or would be one in the future—keeping calm was a must.

Henry Wilson and Old Wilson were smoking on the balcony. When they saw Ian Mitchell come out, they waved him over.

Old Wilson handed Ian Mitchell a cigarette and started enthusiastically, “Cohabiting illegally?”

Ian Mitchell raised an eyebrow. “Legally.”

At that, Henry Wilson was stunned, and Old Wilson, the old smoker, even choked, coughing for a while before he managed to ask, “What do you mean, legally?”

“It means a long-term contractual relationship established on the basis of equality and mutual consent between a man and a woman,” Ian Mitchell explained, very much the lawyer.

Old Wilson was dumbfounded.

Ian Mitchell smiled. “To put it simply, I’m already married. You’d better get your red envelopes ready.”

“What! You! You, you!” Old Wilson shouted, “You’re married?”

After seeing Ian Mitchell nod in confirmation, Old Wilson shouted again and rushed to the living room to announce the explosive news.

Henry Wilson leaned against the balcony railing, looking out at the night sky from the twelfth floor. “Life is really amazing. After all those twists and turns, you two actually made it back together.” He sighed. “These seven years—do you really not mind at all?”

“How do you want me to answer?” Ian Mitchell lit a cigarette, his eyes deep in thought. “I know what matters most.”

Henry Wilson took a drag and smiled. “You’ve always had good self-control.”

Ian Mitchell said nothing, thin wisps of smoke curling around them.

Henry Wilson glanced at him. “Haven’t seen you smoke in a long time.”

“Yeah, not much lately.”

“Do you remember how you felt the first time you smoked?”

How could he forget? Back then, Mason Scott hadn’t been gone long, and he’d sunk so low he relied on cigarettes and alcohol to numb himself. Ian Mitchell flicked his cigarette. “At the time, I thought it was a great thing—at least it gave me something to do in this world.”

The calm tone made Henry Wilson pause. It seemed he really had let go. Only by truly letting go could one face the past so calmly. The current Ian Mitchell looked peaceful, no longer carrying that intimidating edge from before. Henry Wilson said sincerely, “Congratulations.”

Ian Mitchell smiled lightly. “Thank you.”

Unlike the quiet on the balcony, the living room was in an uproar thanks to Old Wilson’s announcement. Just then, Mason Scott came out and was once again startled by everyone’s unabashed stares.

Gavin looked at the woman before her with innocent envy. So this was the one Lawyer Mitchell had said, “If I like her, I just like her”? She didn’t seem as loud or troublesome as Lawyer Mitchell had described—at least now, standing there, she looked a bit nervous and uneasy.

“Ah!” Beth exclaimed softly. “You’re the one who found Lawyer Mitchell’s wallet.”

Mason Scott recognized her too and smiled. “Hello.”

Gavin immediately latched onto Beth. “Beth jie, you know the inside story?”

Beth said, “I met her before. She found Lawyer Mitchell’s wallet that time—there were probably some IDs or business cards inside—so she brought it to the office to return it. I think that’s how they met, and then…” With a little feminine imagination, a love story born from returning lost property was officially spun.

Beth wasn’t speaking quietly, so everyone around listened intently, thoroughly entertained. Mason Scott was dumbfounded—this Miss Beth would be perfect for writing romance stories at her magazine; staying at the law firm was a waste of talent.

“Hey! If you ever find a woman’s wallet, make sure to return it,” one of the men concluded.

Gavin immediately teased him, “If it’s your turn, it’ll be a dinosaur.”

Everyone burst out laughing. Just then, Ian Mitchell and Henry Wilson finished their cigarettes and came back. Taking advantage of the lively atmosphere, someone called out, “Lawyer Mitchell, leniency for confession, severity for resistance!”

“You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say may be used as evidence in court.”

What was all this? Had these future legal professionals all grown up watching Hong Kong cop movies?

Ian Mitchell couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, I’ll confess—how about I explain while we eat?”

Of course, Attorney Mitchell wouldn’t really confess anything, and no one dared to press him too hard. So everyone’s enthusiasm quickly shifted to the steaming hot pot, and they ate merrily until after nine.

Mason Scott, trying to avoid everyone’s curious gazes, kept her head down and ate nonstop. When Ian Mitchell came back after dropping off a few female colleagues, he found her so full she didn’t want to move from the sofa.

Ian Mitchell was both amused and exasperated. “Weren’t you the one who didn’t want to come out and eat?”

He picked her up from the sofa. “…You’ve gained some weight.” Ian Mitchell muttered to himself—just how much had she eaten?

“Uh… what did you say?” Suddenly caught in his arms, Mason Scott was a bit slow to react. Had she missed something?

“Nothing.” Ian Mitchell’s voice suddenly turned a little hoarse.

Yeah, right—nothing.

That night, Mason Scott finally understood what “absence makes the heart grow fonder” really meant.

In the days that followed, Ian Mitchell received “concern” from all directions.

First was Old Jordan from the court: “Xiao He, last time you said you were married, I thought you were making excuses. Didn’t expect you really got married. That’s great—now my wife can stop nagging me, and I can finally have some peace… Oh, and don’t forget to send me a wedding invitation.”

Then Frank Jenkins from the prosecutor’s office: “Is it the one from KFC that day? Heh, I could tell then, just didn’t expect you to move so fast. When are you treating us to wedding wine?”

Then Lawyer Carter from United, and so on and so forth. For the first time, Ian Mitchell was truly impressed by Old Wilson’s speed at spreading news—by now, probably everyone from the University C law alumni in City A knew he was married.

That afternoon, after seeing off a few old clients, Old Wilson stayed on the sofa and asked Ian Mitchell, “When are you planning to treat us?”

“I’ll think about it after the New Year—I haven’t even talked to Mason Scott about it yet.”

“That’s too late—there are still a few months until New Year. Once the school anniversary is over, it’ll be about time. Do it sooner!” Old Wilson was enthusiastic—he loved a lively event.

School anniversary? Ian Mitchell flipped through his calendar and sure enough, the fifteenth was marked as University C’s centennial celebration. He’d been so busy lately, he’d actually forgotten about it.

“We’ll talk about the date later. When the time comes, I’ll have you be the witness.” Ian Mitchell said with a smile. Over the years, though it was never spoken, Ian Mitchell was truly grateful to Old Wilson. If not for Old Wilson’s background and resourcefulness, there might not be the Ian Mitchell of today.