Listening to her, Old Wilson uncharacteristically said something serious: “This kind of thing, like drinking water, only you know if it’s hot or cold. Why are you so concerned?”

While they were talking, Ian Mitchell and Mason Scott had already come over. Ian Mitchell still wore a tense, handsome expression, and Mason Scott, probably having just been scolded badly, greeted everyone in a much quieter voice.

Mason Scott had often visited the department office before, so she naturally knew Susan Miller. Seeing her, she gave a slight smile: “Hello, senior.”

Susan Miller forced out a response, “Mm,” and was just about to say something when a surprised and delighted shout interrupted her.

“Mrs In!”

The loud and enthusiastic call instantly quieted the previously noisy lobby. The imperfect English pronunciation made people want to laugh, but the plump, middle-aged man who had become the center of attention seemed completely unaware, his face full of delight as he ran across the lobby to the frozen Mason Scott.

“Mrs In, Mrs Ying.” The middle-aged man was so excited he was almost incoherent. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Did you and Mr. Ying return to China together this time? I’m Sam Lincoln, chairman of Dashang Company. Do you remember me? Hahaha, last year in the US, you and Mr. Ying were so kind to host us. Now that you two are back in China, you must let me return the favor.”

Mason Scott was stunned, her hands and feet icy cold.

She still remembered this middle-aged, slightly overweight man. He had business dealings with Hugh Wilson’s company, and when he visited the US last year, Hugh Wilson had hosted him and his wife at their home.

But why was he here?

At the worst possible time, in the worst possible place.

Mason Scott could feel the suspicious and surprised gazes of Old Wilson and the others on her. She no longer had the courage to look at Ian Mitchell’s expression.

She had just begun to feel a faint sense of happiness—so fragile, was it about to vanish already...

Fear slowly spread through every corner of her body. But in the next moment, a warm, strong hand grasped her slightly trembling one.

This hand had just angrily pulled her across the street.

Now, it held her tightly, giving her a reassuring strength.

Mason Scott slowly turned her head. Ian Mitchell was looking at her, his eyes filled with a pained calm.

Had he... already guessed?

As expected.

Mason Scott heard Ian Mitchell’s clear and steady voice, “I’m sorry, she’s no longer—”

“You’ve mistaken her for someone else.”

The unfinished sentence was quickly interrupted by Mason Scott. Ian Mitchell paused, a trace of confusion flashing in his eyes.

Mason Scott gently pulled her hand free and repeated to Director Lincoln, “You’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

Her voice was surprisingly calm. Even though she knew she would have to face that marriage sooner or later, it definitely wasn’t supposed to be now, and not in front of so many of Ian Mitchell’s friends. Maybe Ian Mitchell could endure it, but she didn’t want him to be judged or criticized by others because of her past. Ian Mitchell had always been so proud.

“Mistaken? How could that be? Haha, Mrs. Ying, don’t joke with me.” Director Lincoln laughed awkwardly, a bit embarrassed, but still unwilling to leave.

As the standoff continued, the hotel doors were pushed open.

The waiters’ uniform “Welcome!” and the impressive entrance of the newcomers drew everyone’s attention.

Surrounded by a large group, a handsome man in his prime walked in, carrying an expensive tailored suit in his hand. His steps were confident and composed, and the dazzling lights of the lobby made him appear even more distinguished.

Susan Miller keenly noticed that among the group was the top leader of C University. She couldn’t help but look twice, wondering who the man in the center was, to have the school leadership fawning over him like this.

At this moment, Director Lincoln called out joyfully, waving excitedly: “President Ying, Mrs. Ying is here!”

That shout of “President Ying” made Susan Miller instantly recall someone—Hugh Wilson, the CEO of SOSO, the one who donated a building to the university.

The moment Director Lincoln spoke, Hugh Wilson had already stopped and turned to look at them, the group around him halting as well. He stood still for a few seconds, raised his sharp brows, and then walked straight toward them.

It was as if he hadn’t even noticed the stunned Mason Scott standing to the side. Hugh Wilson walked past her and politely greeted Director Lincoln: “So it’s you, Director Lincoln. I was just about to say I’d visit you tomorrow. Didn’t expect to run into you here.”

Director Lincoln was flattered. “Not at all, President Ying, it’s my great honor to see you. Haha, President Ying, this is Mrs. Ying, right? Just now she insisted I had mistaken her for someone else.” He pointed at Mason Scott.

Hugh Wilson glanced casually at Mason Scott, then laughed heartily: “There is a resemblance, but my wife is vacationing in Switzerland. Director Lincoln, your eyesight is slipping.”

“Ah? Ah?” Director Lincoln looked at Mason Scott suspiciously, but quickly said, “Yes, yes, now that I look again, they really don’t look that much alike.”

He bowed repeatedly to Mason Scott. “Sorry for the mistake, miss, sorry.”

Mason Scott lowered her eyes and shook her head slightly.

“Since we’ve met by chance, Director Lincoln, if you don’t mind, why not join us for a casual meal?”

“Of course, of course.”

With that, Hugh Wilson and Director Lincoln gradually walked away together.

Mason Scott looked up to see Ian Mitchell staring expressionlessly in the direction Hugh Wilson had left, his deep eyes unreadable. Sensing her unease, Ian Mitchell withdrew his gaze, looked down, and spoke to her in a tone much gentler than when he’d scolded her by the roadside.

Of course, he was still a bit stern.

“Think carefully about how you’ll write your self-criticism when we get home.”

“……” Mason Scott stared at him blankly, her mind in knots.

Ian Mitchell took a cigarette from Old Wilson. “How do you cross the street? Didn’t I just tell you? You’ve already forgotten?”

“……”

Hugh Wilson and the others, led by the waiter, entered the VIP elevator. Just before the doors closed, Hugh Wilson seemed to glance casually in their direction, his gaze meeting Ian Mitchell’s deep eyes head-on.

The brief episode left everyone a bit unsure how to react, but seeing Ian Mitchell’s calm demeanor, they quickly resumed chatting and laughing. None of them suspected anything—after all, Hugh Wilson’s status was clear, and Mason Morgan seemed worlds apart from him. If they really were husband and wife, that would be unbelievable.

The lobby manager soon informed them that a table was available, and, to apologize for the delay caused by the staff’s mistake, everything except drinks would be 20% off.

Seeing they could save a few hundred yuan, Old Wilson was instantly delighted.

During the meal, the atmosphere was lively, and everyone started sharing funny stories from law school. Even though Mason Scott was preoccupied, she couldn’t help but laugh at some of the jokes. Someone even brought up a story about Mason Scott making a blunder in criminal law class, teasing her about it.

Mason Scott was embarrassed and quietly asked Ian Mitchell how he knew about it, since they weren’t in the same year.

Ian Mitchell smiled: “You didn’t know you’re famous?”

Professor Jordan would still mention Mason Scott in lectures to younger students, saying that a girl once came to class with her boyfriend, got called on to answer a question, and so on. He told the story so vividly that it always made the students laugh.

Later, a junior who wasn’t very close to Ian Mitchell once asked him good-naturedly, “Are you the boyfriend of that girl Professor Zhou talked about, the one who wanted to lock someone up? Haha, why have we never seen your girlfriend?”

By then, Mason Scott was already gone.

After being made to drink several glasses by Old Wilson, Ian Mitchell got up to go to the restroom.

With directions from a waiter, he found the restroom and pushed open the door.

Someone was already inside.

The man who had been washing his hands at the sink straightened up the moment Ian Mitchell entered.

Ian Mitchell instinctively stopped, meeting the eyes of the man in the mirror—Hugh Wilson.

For a moment, silence filled the small restroom.

“Ian Mitchell.” After a pause, Hugh Wilson spoke first. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Not at all.” Ian Mitchell looked directly at Hugh Wilson, his expression calm. “Mr. Ying is the one renowned everywhere.”

“Aren’t you curious how I know your name?” Hugh Wilson turned off the faucet and turned around, a flash of gentleness in his eagle-like eyes that didn’t match his tough appearance. He said, word by word, “My former wife once searched for this name in the search engine I developed.”

It was already very late when they got home.

At the dinner, Mason Scott had been made to drink quite a bit by Old Wilson and Susan Miller, and by the time they left the hotel, she was so dizzy that Ian Mitchell had to support her. As soon as she got in the car, she leaned her head and fell asleep.

Ian Mitchell carried her back to the bedroom. As soon as he put her on the bed, she instinctively curled up under the covers and fell asleep. Probably because of the alcohol, Mason Scott’s cheeks were flushed, and her long eyelashes rested quietly.

Ian Mitchell gazed at her for a long time, then finally lowered his head and kissed her forehead.

“Did he kiss you like this too?”

His low, hoarse voice betrayed the emotions he had tried so hard to hide.

In his eyes was a pain he would never let her see while she was awake.

Ian Mitchell lowered his head, breathing in sync with Mason Scott.

Was he ever this close to you?

Did he ever receive your smile and all your passion?

Did he ever...

Ian Mitchell ordered himself not to think any further.