“You’ll understand in the future—if that person ever appeared in your life, everyone else would just be settling.” he said, “I don’t want to settle.”

The bus slowly pulled away, and his figure gradually blurred in my sight.

His words echoed in my mind again and again—You’ll understand in the future, if that person ever appeared in your life, everyone else would just be settling.

Why wait for the future? I’ve always understood.

It’s just that I don’t want to settle either.

So, in this vast city crowded with people, we stubbornly remain lonely with the same feelings.

Each busy with our own careers, we gradually kept in touch even less than we did in college.

I used to be afraid of this day coming, but it still arrived.

But actually, it doesn’t seem like a big deal.

I’m not sad.

Because I’ve gotten used to it.

Ian Mitchell gave me a long time to get used to it.

Later, there was a time when he came to pick me up from work so we could go back to Y City to visit my sick father. While waiting for me downstairs at the office, he was spotted by one of my female colleagues.

The next day, that colleague asked me who he was, and even bluntly asked if he had a girlfriend.

I said, he already has a girlfriend, but she’s in America.

Disappointment flashed in her eyes, and she said a bit unwillingly, “A long-distance relationship? Even regular long-distance relationships break up, and international ones are even riskier.”

“No, they’ll end up together.” I don’t know where my conviction came from. “She’ll come back.”

My colleague seemed surprised by how firm I was: “Amy Mitchell, you’re not her, how do you know?”

I didn’t answer again.

I just kept telling myself over and over in my heart, how could she not come back?

He’s always been waiting for her.

It’s just that none of us expected time to be so long. Waiting isn’t scary; what’s scary is not knowing when it will end.

One year, two years… the fifth year, the sixth year…

The seventh year.

That day, I brought him some pickled vegetables my mom made. When I stuffed them into the fridge, I found there was no food inside at all, just emptiness, so I told him to go to the supermarket.

The supermarket was packed on the weekend.

As we walked, I chatted with Ian Mitchell about our recent lives. It had already been two months since we last met.

Then I seemed to hear something collapse.

I turned my head without thinking.

Amid the crashing sound, I saw her.

From the last time I saw her at KFC until now, seven years had passed. Yet suddenly, I felt that this long stretch of time was just the instant I turned my head.

So much has changed.

The only things that changed were my gradually aging heart, and Ian Mitchell’s increasingly hardened shell.

But she seemed unchanged.

Still smiling carefreely on the other side.

That night, I went home, sat on the sofa, and watched as the sky gradually brightened.

Because I was busy with work, the small apartment I rented hadn’t been tidied up in a long time. The potted flower on the balcony had been left there since I bought it. I didn’t know when it had bloomed, nor when the petals had been battered by wind and rain, half-withered, with only a single red petal swaying in the morning breeze.

Suddenly, I felt like I was that nameless flower.

One person’s flower blooms, one person’s flower falls. All these years, from beginning to end, no one ever asked.

Supporting Role Story: “One Person’s Flower Blooms” — End

Extra Story 2

Bits and Pieces

1. About the Photo

One day, Lawyer Mitchell was surprised to find that the old photo in his wallet had been replaced with a recent close-up of someone.

He asked that person after coming home.

That person replied confidently, “You always see my photos from when I was eighteen or nineteen. If you look at me now, you’ll think I’m getting older and older.”

Ever since marrying the lawyer, that person had become more and more good at reasoning.

2. About Naming the Baby

One day, while pork rib soup was simmering on the stove, a bored Mason Scott decided to do something meaningful.

Like picking a name for their future baby.

She grabbed a big Chinese dictionary and flipped through it. Mason Scott found that naming was truly a daunting task. To come up with a name that sounds good, has a good meaning, and appeals to both refined and popular tastes is really not easy.

Suddenly, inspiration struck Mason Scott and she thought of a simple naming method.

Dad’s surname, mom’s name, plus one more character, and the name was done—Mason Mitchell.

It looked nice and sounded good.

Most importantly, it was meaningful.

Mason Scott was pleased, ran to the study, wrote it on paper, and asked Ian Mitchell what he thought.

Ian Mitchell looked at it, raised his eyebrows, and with a flourish changed the “慕” character to “必”.

Billy Mitchell?

Why be born??!!

Mason Scott was frustrated, on behalf of the baby too.

Poor baby, not even born yet and already disliked by dad.

3. Confession???

Another day.

During a break from work, Ian Mitchell suddenly realized that he seemed to have never said those three words to someone.

Just then, that person sneaked into the study to look for a novel.

He pulled her over, sat her on his lap, Ian Mitchell wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his chin in the crook of her neck.

“Help me flip the pages.”

“Huh?” Mason Scott was stunned, glancing at the documents on the desk.

“Mm, page fourteen.”

She finally understood what he wanted her to do.

Lazybones!

But Mason Scott, long used to being bossed around, still helped him turn to page fourteen, though she couldn’t help but complain, “Ian Mitchell, you’re so lazy.”

“Mm-hmm.” Ian Mitchell seemed determined to be lazy to the end. “Highlight the first sentence of the first paragraph for me.”

“Okay.” Mason Scott picked up a pen and drew a wavy line under the sentence.

—“In the field of international private law in our country, research on preliminary issues has always followed the views of British jurist Morris (J.H.C. Morris)…”

“The third line from the bottom.”

—“Since you’ve already had contact with the police, you must know the legal provisions for this kind of situation here.”

What’s this? Seems like a line from a case dialogue. Why highlight it?

Then, under Ian Mitchell’s instructions, she flipped through more than ten pages.

“I can’t find the character in the middle.” Ian Mitchell muttered by her ear, sounding a bit annoyed.

Mason Scott had no idea what he meant.

“Let’s change books.” Ian Mitchell reached behind to the bookshelf and randomly grabbed a magazine.

Huh? This… seems to be a special issue published by her magazine. Ian Mitchell is interested in women’s magazines too?

“First sentence of the third section on this page.”

Uh… even reading magazines needs highlighting?

—“We often go to the countryside in spring, a season when the sky is unbelievably blue…”

“Fifth line.”

—“Children who love to lie will have longer noses, he smiled as he tapped my nose…”

“Last sentence.”

—“Are you sure you saw him come out of here at nine o’clock?”

What a mess! Mason Scott highlighted as instructed, started yawning, and gradually got a little sleepy. Ian Mitchell didn’t say anything more, just held her quietly, breathing softly.

“Mason Scott?”

“…Mm.” She answered vaguely.

Ian Mitchell carried her to bed, tucked her in, and kissed her hair.

“Silly, good night.”

(Mandy Cooper’s note: Did anyone not understand the last extra? Hehe, when I first posted it online, a lot of people didn’t realize how Ian Mitchell confessed. If any readers are as confused as Mason Scott, feel free to visit Turtle’s home online and ask^-^)

Mandy’s Home: http:3243.jjwxc.net (With a shell, not afraid of rainy days)

Postscript

It’s now four in the morning.

I just finished writing a little extra.

It’s strange—just now I was so sleepy I could barely keep my eyes open, and forced myself to stay up for fear I’d forget what I wanted to write tomorrow. But now, I’m wide awake instead. After climbing into bed, I got up again, deciding to finish this postscript.

Maybe it’s because I’m excited—the end of “Ian Mitchell” is finally in sight.

The book “Ian Mitchell” started serialization on Jin River Originals in September 2003. After finishing the first seventy thousand words at the end of 2003, I put it aside for a while because of the trivialities of graduating and the chaos of starting my first job. I think, if it weren’t for the constant urging and encouragement from online readers, I probably wouldn’t have had the motivation to finish it. So, even though I was often chased and threatened by readers who wanted to “slaughter Turtle,” I always felt only gratitude and guilt. Sometimes, when chatting with Bailey and Mia Brooks about our readers, I always say, “The readers of ‘Ian Mitchell’ are the gentlest and most patient.”

Then Mia Brooks and Bailey would look at me like they wanted to chop me up and say: “How could your readers not be patient?!”

……

That’s true~~>_<~~

I really am slow (don’t want to admit it = =), always the lazy, laid-back type, with no great ambitions, just living steadily, only moving when prodded. People like me probably won’t achieve anything big. But if I were more proactive and diligent, maybe I wouldn’t have written “Ian Mitchell & Mason Scott.”

Living life is like enjoying the scenery. If you walk fast, you can see more sights; if you walk slowly, you can better appreciate the beauty and details of those sights.