“Best man, huh.” Old Wilson chuckled, “As long as I can save on red envelopes, I’ll take any role.”

Just as he was speaking, another call came in. Old Wilson happily waved his hand and went out.

The call was from a female editor at 《Belle》, about an interview. When Grace Miller first mentioned it to him, Ian Mitchell had refused right away. At the time, he remembered that this was Mason Scott’s workplace, and his tone was probably a bit stiff, so Grace Miller didn’t bring it up again.

Now, Ian Mitchell still politely declined: “I’m sorry, Miss Taylor, I don’t think I’m suitable to be a cover figure for a women’s magazine.”

“Is it because of your professional image, Lawyer Mitchell? Actually, our magazine is creating a series on urban single elites. We will give an objective and fair evaluation of your profession, and I assure you it won’t harm your professional image. In this regard, Lawyer Mitchell, you can take a look at our last issue’s report on Ken Johnson.” Taylor Jensen persisted in persuading him.

Single? Ian Mitchell caught the key word and said gently, “Miss Taylor, I’m afraid I don’t meet your magazine’s single requirement. I got married not long ago.”

Taking advantage of the other party’s obvious surprise, Ian Mitchell exchanged a few polite words and hung up. He focused on his documents for a while, then his phone beeped with a text message from Mason Scott.

—“Ian Mitchell, what are we having for dinner tonight?”

Ian Mitchell rarely sent text messages.

When he was in college, cell phones were still luxury items. As a poor student, he certainly couldn’t afford one, so he missed the golden age of texting. After he started working and bought a phone, he got used to making calls—clear, direct, and fast. Occasionally, Amy Mitchell would send a text, but he didn’t have the time to type out a reply character by character, so he usually just called her back to ask what was up. Gradually, Amy Mitchell’s texts became fewer and fewer.

But now, holding his phone, he patiently typed out each word—“What do you want to eat?”

After sending it, he checked the time. It wasn’t even 3:30 yet. This was so typical of Mason Morgan—back when they had lunch together, as soon as they left the cafeteria, she’d grab him and ask, “Ian Mitchell, what are we having for dinner?”

A reply came quickly: “How about eating at home?”

“You’ll cook?”

“YES!!” She added several exclamation marks. Before Ian Mitchell could reply, another message, clearly sent with a guilty conscience, arrived: “…But I heard it’s not very tasty.”

Who said it wasn’t tasty? That person?

Ian Mitchell stared at the short message on his phone, unable to stop his emotions from stirring. His fingers paused, and after a while, he simply replied with one word—“Okay.”

Although Mason Scott looked full of confidence, experience told Ian Mitchell not to expect too much.

So, when he got home after work and saw Mason Scott in the kitchen, clumsily slicing potatoes, Ian Mitchell didn’t feel the least bit disappointed. When he saw her laptop open on the dining table, with a big red headline on the webpage: “How to Make Sweet and Sour Ribs,” he couldn’t help but shake his head, sigh, and laugh.

He walked over, took the kitchen knife from her hand, and skillfully sliced the potatoes. Mason Scott stared wide-eyed at his movements, feeling utterly defeated.

“Ian Mitchell, why can you even cook?” Was he going to leave her any room to survive?

“I started helping Auntie cook when I was ten.”

“Oh.” Such skillful knife work must have taken years to develop. Mason Scott suddenly felt a little sad. While she was living a life where everything was handed to her, Ian Mitchell was all alone, living under someone else’s roof…

“If only I’d met you sooner…”

She reached out, hugged him from behind, and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Ian Mitchell, teach me. I’ll cook for you from now on.”

The warmth of her embrace seemed to evaporate the last bit of bitterness in his heart.

Let it be like this, Ian Mitchell thought.

Let the past stay in the past, never to be dwelled on again.

Because he was already so tired.

So eager for happiness.

Chapter 10: No Avoidance

The newlywed lawyer Ian Mitchell was even busier than before. The previous cases he’d taken on weren’t finished yet, and recently, out of obligation, he’d accepted another tricky one. With several cases progressing at once, he was busy until late every night. Often, Mason Scott would be asleep while the light in Ian Mitchell’s study was still on.

But even so, Mason Scott still felt very happy. While Ian Mitchell was busy, she found things to do on her own, tinkering here and there. Occasionally, she’d poke her head into the study, but Ian Mitchell was always buried in work without exception.

It was only at such close distance that Mason Scott truly realized how diligent Ian Mitchell was. Outsiders saw Ian Mitchell as young and successful, someone to envy, but they didn’t know how much effort he put in behind the scenes. With no background to rely on, it must have been so hard for him to get where he was. Yet, during his hardest times, she hadn’t been by his side…

When Ian Mitchell came out of the study with an empty teacup, he saw Mason Scott sitting on the sofa, hugging her knees and staring blankly at a cookbook, lost in thought.

It was just after 1 p.m. on Sunday. Ian Mitchell had been busy in the study all morning, grabbed a quick lunch, and went right back to work.

When Mason Scott saw him, she immediately tossed aside her book and jumped up from the sofa. “I’ll make the tea.” She cheerfully snatched his cup and ran to the kitchen.

Looking at his now empty hands, Ian Mitchell suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu. It was as if he’d gone back to the old days, back in college, when he was busy with studies, part-time jobs, and student council work, and Mason Scott would squeeze into the gaps of his busy schedule. It seemed like Mason Scott clung to him tightly, but in reality, he hardly gave her any time at all.

Now, it seemed like history was repeating itself.

Ian Mitchell returned to the study. The calendar showed today was November 15th, the centennial celebration of University C. The firm had made a donation to University C’s law department this time, and Old Wilson was attending the donation ceremony, so he’d been urging Ian Mitchell and Henry Wilson to join in the festivities. Ian Mitchell wasn’t really into crowds, especially with so much work on his hands, but now he felt a bit uncertain.

Mason Scott brought hot tea to the study, and Ian Mitchell pulled her over: “Do you have any plans this afternoon?”

“What for? Are we going out?” Mason Scott’s eyes lit up with excitement.

Her expectant look made Ian Mitchell’s last bit of hesitation disappear.

Ian Mitchell shut down his computer. “Yeah, it’s the school’s centennial celebration. Want to go check it out?”

Of course Mason Scott wanted to go to such a lively event.

When Ian Mitchell and Mason Scott arrived at the school, there were so many people that they couldn’t drive in at all. Ian Mitchell parked the car far away in a parking lot, and then they walked over together.

“Wait.” Halfway there, Mason Scott stopped and pointed at a street stall selling T-shirts printed with “XX University.” “Ian Mitchell, let’s put these on too, okay?”

Ian Mitchell frowned, thinking it would look strange, but Mason Scott held onto his hand and wouldn’t budge, so he had no choice but to say, “Go ahead and buy them.”

Mason Scott had rushed out in the morning and forgotten her wallet, so she dug a few dozen yuan out of Ian Mitchell’s wallet and squeezed into the crowd. Soon, she triumphantly emerged with two shirts.

Both of them were wearing casual sweaters today. Mason Scott put the T-shirt over her already loose sweater, making her look puffy and a bit odd. As for Ian Mitchell, even with the same outfit, he still looked handsome and striking, drawing admiring glances from passing girls.

It had always been like this. Walking on campus, Ian Mitchell was always the center of attention, yet he always seemed indifferent, as if he didn’t notice those looks at all. Mason Scott tugged at his sleeve: “Ian Mitchell, don’t you feel people are looking at you?”

Ian Mitchell glanced at her. “Don’t gawk around while you’re walking.”

“……”

Mason Scott fell silent. If there’s anyone who doesn’t understand romance, it’s probably him.

Following the crowd to the school gate, Ian Mitchell got a call from Henry Wilson: “Are you at home or the office? Come out for a bit. A lot of classmates are here today. Susan Miller said if you don’t show up, she’ll come to your house.”

Susan Miller was the previous president of the law school’s student council before Ian Mitchell, and after graduation, she stayed on as a teacher. Back in school, she and Ian Mitchell had frequent work contact.

“I’m at the north gate. Where are you guys?”

“Oh, you’re here? That’s great. We’re in the new building. Come over quickly.”

Ian Mitchell put away his phone and said to Mason Scott, “Let’s walk around my department first, then go check out yours.”

“Huh? Your department… I’d rather not.” Mason Scott hesitated.

“Why?” Ian Mitchell immediately became alert. He almost forgot how prone she was to getting into awkward situations. After all these years, Ian Mitchell realized he still had a conditioned reflex.

“There are so many people in your department…” Mason Scott said gloomily. Ian Mitchell had been a star in the law school, and lots of people knew him. Their breakup and reunion back then were probably well known, and Mason Scott really didn’t want to face those curious looks.

“You go by yourself. I want to take some photos, and I’m more inspired when I’m alone…”

Then why did he even come out? Ian Mitchell was a bit helpless and grabbed her as she tried to run off: “You didn’t bring money or your phone. How will you find me later? How will you get home tonight?”

Seeing Mason Scott’s embarrassed face, he knew she hadn’t thought of that. Sometimes, Ian Mitchell felt like he was taking care of a child. He sighed, “Let’s hope our kid takes after me in the future.”