Going off on such a tangent, Mason Scott muttered, reaching out her hand: “Give me the money!”

Ian Mitchell, however, only handed her his phone: “I’ll call you on your cell in a bit, don’t wander too far. If you need to find me, call Henry Wilson’s number.”

“I really don’t know what you’re so worried about.” Ian Mitchell casually smoothed her wind-tousled hair. Of course he knew what Mason Scott was thinking, but these things didn’t matter much, so he just went along with her.

“Big-shot Lawyer He, you’re really famous now, and your airs have gotten bigger too, huh!” As soon as Ian Mitchell arrived at the new law school building, he was greeted by Susan Miller’s teasing.

Ian Mitchell was well aware of this senior’s temperament—the more you argue, the more energetic she gets—so he simply didn’t respond. After a few jabs, Susan Miller stopped, a bit disgruntled.

Henry Wilson eyed his clothes: “Since when did you get such taste?”

Ian Mitchell looked down at himself. His T-shirt had four big, eye-catching red characters: “XX University” printed across the chest. It did look pretty silly. He chuckled and took it off, holding it in his hand.

Henry Wilson immediately understood: “How come I don’t see your girl around?”

“Who knows where she’s run off to.” Ian Mitchell was a bit exasperated too.

As they chatted, acquaintances kept coming over to say hello. While they were talking, Susan Miller pulled Old Wilson aside: “Does Ian Mitchell have a girlfriend?”

Old Wilson stroked his chin and answered confidently, “No.” A wife doesn’t count as a girlfriend—he was very clear on that distinction.

“Still the same as ever? He’s really that devoted, waiting for her all this time?” Susan Miller knew all about Ian Mitchell’s past, and was a bit dismissive. “But maybe it’s for the best. There’s a new young female teacher in the department—pretty, good family, great education. Let’s invite her to dinner tonight, I’ll introduce them. You keep quiet, okay?”

Of course Old Wilson kept quiet, grinning.

Ian Mitchell had only planned to say hi and leave, but once he arrived, he couldn’t get away. First, he visited a few professors with them, then there was an alumni forum. By the time he left the building, it was almost five o’clock. Old Wilson called out to a few familiar faces: “I’ve booked a table at Binjiang, let’s have a get-together.”

Binjiang Grand Hotel was the only five-star hotel near the university—looked like Old Wilson was going all out this time.

Ian Mitchell borrowed his phone to call Mason Scott.

Mason Scott actually didn’t have any real plans for taking photos; she’d just grabbed her camera on a whim before leaving.

While Ian Mitchell went to the law department, she headed toward her own. Mason Scott’s college entrance exam score had just barely met the cutoff for C University, so she’d been placed in the chemistry department, which wasn’t a strong suit for the school. Ironically, chemistry was her worst subject of all. The fact that she scraped by in every class her freshman year was probably all thanks to Ian Mitchell.

Mason Scott had only spent a little over a year in the chemistry department, and she often studied in the law school, so she was actually unfamiliar with her own department. After wandering around, she didn’t run into anyone she knew.

Leaving the chemistry building, she snapped a couple of random shots, but quickly lost interest.

Her fingers brushed the phone in her pocket, and she couldn’t help but think of Ian Mitchell, wondering what he was up to over at the law school…

Lately, she and Ian Mitchell… seemed to have suddenly gotten along much better, especially since she’d come back from Hong Kong.

Getting along like this made Mason Scott happy, but sometimes she also felt uneasy.

She never really understood what Ian Mitchell was thinking—in fact, it had always been that way. She could never quite figure him out. Would everything go back to how it was one day?

Mason Scott didn’t want to think about it anymore. She kicked at the dirt on the ground and muttered to herself, “Since I can’t figure it out, maybe it’s better to just keep things simple.”

Today, C University was livelier than ever, packed with people everywhere—young students, elderly alumni, so many lives and memories tied to this place.

Maybe because Mason Scott was wearing a T-shirt with the university’s name on it, people kept coming up to ask her for directions—where was this building, how to get to that place? Mason Scott pointed the way for each one as best as she could remember.

After a few steps, she was stopped by a young man in a suit.

“Excuse me, do you know where Hugh Wilson is giving his lecture?”

Her wandering thoughts were snapped back by the question. Mason Scott froze, almost thinking she’d misheard.

Hugh Wilson?

“Who did you say?” Mason Scott asked blankly.

“Hugh Wilson, the miracle of China’s internet, CEO of SOSO. Where is he giving his lecture?”

The young man looked at her anxiously, and seeing her confusion, immediately turned to grab another student: “Excuse me, do you know where Hugh Wilson is giving his lecture?”

“In the main auditorium. Why are you only going now? The lecture was from two to four, it’s already started, you probably won’t get in.” Even so, the female student pointed him in the right direction.

The young man quickly thanked her and rushed off toward the main auditorium.

Mason Scott stood there for a long moment, trying to process the information.

Hugh Wilson.

He was back in the country.

And now he was at C University.

The main auditorium, which could hold a thousand people, was already packed, with even the entrance blocked. Fortunately, the school had anticipated this and set up a large electronic screen outside to broadcast the lecture live.

Mason Scott stood in the crowd, gazing up at the confident man on the screen—a broad forehead symbolizing intelligence, thick determined brows matching his character, sharply chiseled features lacking softness, eyes calm from experience but occasionally flashing with sharpness, an unsmiling, almost unapproachable expression.

This was Hugh Wilson.

The self-made internet tycoon from Silicon Valley.

A new tech billionaire worth tens of billions.

Her nominal ex-husband… perhaps, in fact, her real one.

Hugh Wilson’s lecture topic was quite ordinary—“The Development and Prospects of China’s IT Industry,” a subject that had been talked to death. But his unique perspective, incisive analysis, and special status made his talk stand out. With his science and engineering background, Hugh Wilson placed great emphasis on facts. The IT future he described wasn’t some pie-in-the-sky fantasy, but a logical projection based on practical foundations, making it all the more convincing. His own legendary journey inspired all the students listening. On top of that, he was strikingly handsome—a kind of strong, forceful good looks—so the applause from the audience was mixed with shrieks from the girls.

At least outside, the group of girls around Mason Scott was already buzzing with excitement over Hugh Wilson’s charisma.

“Wow, he’s so handsome! I wouldn’t mind even if he’s a bit older.”

“Come on! Who says he’s old? He’s only thirty-four, still in his prime.”

“If I had a husband like that—talent, career, looks—I’d be showing off everywhere.”

“Forget it. If you wanted a guy like that, you should’ve married him before he made it big. Now it’s too late.”

“Hey, did you guys hear? When Hugh Wilson was studying here, his girlfriend was the campus beauty from our department.”

That comment drew in even those who’d been focused on the lecture.

“What department are you from?” a male student asked.

“Foreign languages.”

“And now? Are they still together?”

“I only heard it from someone else, so it might not be true,” the girl clarified, then continued, “They say back in college, Hugh Wilson was really poor, from the countryside, but even in the math department—where geniuses were everywhere—he was famous. Later, he dated the acknowledged beauty of our department, and they were really close. But when they graduated, the beauty accepted the department head’s son’s proposal to get a job at the university, so Hugh Wilson gave up a research position here and went abroad.”

“Oh, the department head’s daughter-in-law—you don’t mean the one who teaches us British Literature, do you? Didn’t we just hear she got divorced?”

“Oh my god, no way! Do you think she regrets it now?”

“Who knows!” The girl stuck out her tongue. “We heard all this from our counselor when our dorm won a scholarship and treated her to dinner, so it’s probably true.”

The lively gossip continued—celebrities’ pasts and private lives are always a public fascination.

Mason Scott pressed her lips together, looking up at the spirited Hugh Wilson on the screen.

Hugh Wilson rarely talked to her about his past. Maybe, to the twenty-three or twenty-four-year-old her, he’d always seemed like an older brother in the eyes of the already thirty-something Hugh Wilson.

Only once did Hugh Wilson mention, offhandedly: “I had a girlfriend at C University—very smart, very beautiful…” He trailed off, as if lost in thought.

Not understanding, Mason Scott replied, “My ex-boyfriend was pretty impressive too.”

“Oh?” Hugh Wilson smiled. “Then your boyfriend wasn’t as lucky as I was.”

Mason Scott still remembered the look in his eyes then—a mix of pride and loneliness, both at once in those usually calm eyes.

All these years, she’d never seen anyone by Brother Ying’s side. Maybe, like her, he could never let go of the past, Mason Scott thought wistfully.

Unnoticed, the lecture was drawing to a close. The host stepped up: “If we end now, would everyone feel a bit unsatisfied? Would you feel regret?”

The audience shouted loudly: “Yes!”