“So next is the free Q&A session, which will last for half an hour, so everyone, please make the most of your time.”

The atmosphere became livelier than ever, as one student after another stood up to ask all sorts of tricky and unusual questions. The free Q&A is the best way to showcase a person’s quick wit, and it was obvious that Hugh Wilson excelled in this regard—his clever and humorous answers won rounds of applause.

In today’s speech, Hugh Wilson was truly worthy of the title “C University’s pride” in every respect.

“Oh please, these guys are so boring.”

After several consecutive technical questions, the girls started to get bored; they had no interest at all in computers, technology, or anything like that.

Just then, the microphone was passed to a female student.

She stood up and cleared her throat: “Wilson sir, I want to clarify first, this question isn’t from me. My classmate outside the venue texted me and said if I help her ask this question, she’ll buy me dinner. So, for the sake of my free meal, please, Hugh Wilson senior, you must answer me.”

“Of course.” Hugh Wilson was the picture of poise, raising his hand in a “please go ahead” gesture.

“Well, here’s the thing.” The girl paused skillfully, waiting for the room to quiet down, then said loudly, “May I ask if you’re married? Do we still have a chance?”

The audience erupted at this question, with the boys whistling and cheering for the girl’s courage.

However, in this lively atmosphere, the man who had been so at ease on stage suddenly seemed lost.

He maintained his previous posture, but his thoughts seemed to drift away, as if this unexpected question had transported him to another world, making him forget there was still an audience below. Students watching the close-up on the electronic screen outside could even see the sadness in his eyes that he couldn’t hide.

Gradually, the hall quieted down, and the students looked at each other in silence.

The girl who asked the question also began to look uneasy.

The host, thinking the question had crossed Hugh Wilson’s boundaries, hurriedly stepped in to smooth things over: “This question is a bit personal, isn’t it? You’re not a paparazzi sneaking in undercover, are you?”

The students didn’t really respond, only a few scattered laughs.

A reminder from his assistant brought Hugh Wilson back to himself in time, and he gestured to stop the host: “It’s fine, I just suddenly thought of my wife. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Amid a murmur of ambiguous sounds from the audience, Hugh Wilson answered firmly, “Of course, I’m married.”

Among all the people inside and outside the venue, probably only Mason Scott understood the true meaning behind his words on stage.

Married.

Mason Scott had said the same thing to Ian Mitchell.

Married, but in name only, and now it no longer exists.

The speech was drawing to a close, and the last image on the electronic screen was of students rushing onto the stage, surrounding Hugh Wilson in the center. Then the broadcast ended, and the centennial celebration video for C University began to play.

The crowd gathered outside the auditorium gradually dispersed, and Mason Scott walked away with the flow of people. Suddenly, she remembered when she returned to China, Hugh Wilson had taken her to the airport, and his last words before she boarded.

“If you’re not going back to America, then let’s not contact each other for now.”

Actually, there was some regret. They could have been very good friends.

If only…

If only so many things hadn’t happened.

Her chest felt tight, and Mason Scott was a little dizzy.

On this unguarded, sunlit afternoon, those long-buried emotions were stirred up by Hugh Wilson’s appearance, replaying scene after scene like a nightmare. The fear of being in a foreign land when she first arrived in America, the shame and anger of being discriminated against because she couldn’t speak the language, the silence she grew used to after being mocked for her accent, and the breakdown when, two months after arriving in America, she saw in the newspaper that her father had committed suicide out of guilt…

Back then, everything felt like a web woven by a demon—impossible to escape, utterly hopeless.

“Two tigers, two tigers, running fast…”

The sudden ringtone of “Two Tigers” pulled Mason Scott out of her memories.

This slightly childish ringtone was one Mason Scott had set when Ian Mitchell was too busy to pay attention to her, and she was playing games on his phone. Although Ian Mitchell frowned at it for a long time, he never changed it back.

The phone rang twice before Mason Scott answered.

“Mason Scott.”

The moment Ian Mitchell’s deep, mellow voice sounded, Mason Scott didn’t understand why she felt a wave of emotion. It was as if a gentle breeze had swept through her heart, making the whole world peaceful and kind.

Her eyes grew wet.

“Ian Mitchell, I miss you so much…”

Mason Scott heard herself say it, or maybe it was that other self—the Mason Morgan in a foreign land—speaking to Ian Mitchell.

I miss you so much.

Ian Mitchell, do you know?

Once, standing on a foreign street, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, she couldn’t even spot a single back that looked like his. Now, she could finally tell him: I miss you so much.

The tears that had gathered in her eyes finally spilled over.

There was no sound from the other end of the line.

All she could hear was their quiet breathing, along with the distant noise of traffic.

A moment later, Old Wilson’s loud voice came through the phone: “Ian Mitchell, why did you stop in the middle of the road?”

Ian Mitchell snapped back to himself and coughed: “Yeah, I know…”

The great lawyer hesitated awkwardly.

“…Where are you?”

Mason Scott looked around: “I don’t know, either.” After the speech, she had wandered off with the crowd and had no idea where she was.

“Lost? No wonder…” Ian Mitchell’s voice was hoarse. “Never mind, just come straight to the Riverside Hotel across from the north gate of the university. I’ll wait for you at the entrance.”

Riverside Hotel.

The table Old Wilson had reserved had somehow been taken by someone else, and the lobby manager kept apologizing, promising to arrange something as soon as possible. No one minded much, and they sat in the lobby chatting while they waited.

Besides Susan Miller, Old Wilson had also invited a few old friends they used to hang out with. Life after graduation wasn’t like college—there were so few chances to get together, so now that they finally had the opportunity, they were determined to enjoy it.

Susan Miller took the chance to introduce the female teacher she’d invited to Ian Mitchell. Although the main character seemed a bit distracted, seeing the teacher shyly glancing at Ian Mitchell from time to time, Susan Miller was secretly pleased—at least half the job was done.

As they chatted, Henry Wilson, who was sitting by the window, suddenly stood up, staring straight outside. Ian Mitchell, sitting across from him, instinctively turned around and saw a large truck narrowly miss Mason Scott, and Mason Scott’s pale, shocked face as she barely managed to steady herself.

It was a close call, and Henry Wilson was still shaken: “Ian Mitchell, your wife is really something. I just saw her crossing the street absentmindedly, didn’t even notice the red light…”

Before he could finish, Ian Mitchell had already stood up and walked out with a cold face.

From a distance, Susan Miller could see the woman standing by the road and was stunned. After hearing what Henry Wilson said, she turned to Old Wilson: “Wife? What do you mean?”

Old Wilson chuckled: “Wife means wife, not girlfriend.”

The young female teacher looked at Susan Miller in confusion, probably wondering why she was being introduced to someone who was already married.

Susan Miller was at a loss for words and glared fiercely at Old Wilson.

In the distance, Ian Mitchell was walking ahead, holding Mason Morgan’s hand. As soon as they crossed the street, he let go, standing by the flowerbed, saying something. Judging by his demeanor and Mason Morgan’s increasingly lowered head, he was probably scolding her.

“How nostalgic.” Henry Wilson’s eyes smiled behind his glasses. It had been a long time since he’d seen a scene like this. Back in college, Ian Mitchell was always mature and composed, rarely losing his temper with anyone—except for Mason Morgan, whom he would often lecture for ages when she made a mistake.

“It’s still her, after all.” Susan Miller shook her head, unsure whether to be happy or feel sorry for her junior. “Back then, our law school had so many talented and beautiful girls who liked him, but he chose someone from another department. I told him, if you’re going to pick someone from another department, at least choose the department beauty or something, to match the top talent of the law school, right? But she was just so… ordinary in every way.”

Back when Mason Morgan was chasing after Ian Mitchell, most of the law students watched the whole thing as a spectacle. No one believed Ian Mitchell would accept her, since he had turned down people with even better qualifications. So later, when Ian Mitchell started taking Mason Morgan to class and to study, countless people were shocked—probably including quite a few girls who secretly regretted not being more proactive. Later, when Mason Morgan went to America and Ian Mitchell was single again, some freshmen were even more enthusiastic than Mason Morgan had been, but Ian Mitchell always managed to turn them away within a couple of days.

Once, Susan Miller couldn’t help but ask, “Do you hate people pestering you? Then why didn’t you hate it when Mason Morgan did?”

As soon as she said it, Susan Miller regretted it—too rash—so she quickly tried to laugh it off, never expecting Ian Mitchell to answer.

“That was different.” That’s what Ian Mitchell said at the time—just three words, in a very calm tone.

Susan Miller couldn’t figure out what was different. Maybe it was—he gave Mason Morgan the chance to pester him, but he didn’t give that chance to anyone else.