- That's exactly what I can't be sure of, so I'm asking you. Is there any chance he'll stay in town? Or if he went out of town, has there been any special occasion recently that might make him come back?

Edward Clark stared at the message on his phone, his finger hovering over the screen, not moving even after it went dark.

He couldn't answer either of those questions—not even a guess.

Or rather, he had always avoided thinking about anything related to "your brother." Most of the time, this person only existed in distant, deliberately sealed-off memories, let alone being analyzed.

- Could it be because you're about to take the college entrance exam?

Another message from Helen King popped up on his phone.

Edward Clark thought for a moment and tapped the screen a few times.

- I don't think we're that close as brothers

- You were too young back then, he actually cared about you

- I'll go over tomorrow and hang around for a day, see if I can run into him

- ...I can go myself. Aren't you supposed to be studying?

- I study whenever and wherever I feel like it, not by schedule

- You really need a beating

Edward Clark chuckled, sent a goodnight emoji, and put his phone aside.

Over the past few years, Helen King had given Edward Clark dozens of leads, with a combined reliability rate of zero.

After all, her clues were always mixed with too much personal emotion.

But Edward Clark still planned to try his luck. He needed to find the switch that made his parents' hopes and disappointments tangle and press down on him at the same time.

Besides, the place Helen King mentioned wasn't too far, just a commercial plaza near No. 3 High School.

The only problem was, there were too many people coming and going. Even if it was real, he might not be able to pick out a face from ten years ago in the crowd.

And that was exactly what happened.

After breakfast, Edward Clark arrived at the plaza and wandered around for three hours, all in vain.

Countless shops, malls connected in a row, cars, bikes, e-bikes, and pedestrians all spread out over the ground like insects—before you could get a good look, they'd already overlapped with the next one.

Edward Clark figured he probably never really intended to find anyone—he just wanted an excuse to get out and walk around.

There was a fried rice noodle shop here that was insanely good.

He could eat three servings of the largest size in a row.

If you got there early, you didn't even have to wait in line.

Edward Clark carried two plates of fried rice noodles and found a small two-person table by the window.

At this hour, you didn't have to fight for a seat.

He ate while glancing out the window.

Watching people, watching faces, running through last night's exam questions in his head, jotting things down in a little notebook he always carried. He'd been too tired to do more than glance at the questions last night, so now was the perfect time to work on them.

But his mind would drift from time to time, thinking about those parents who spent decades searching for their missing children.

What kind of love, how deep a love, what kind of "irrational" love could make someone persist like that?

His own parents had searched too, but they did it calmly, without any real hope.

Their eldest son was too smart, capable of solving all kinds of problems, unlikely to get hurt. Their eldest son was too smart—if he didn't want to come back, no one would ever find him.

Edward Clark let out a sigh.

For a son that smart, maybe only a fortune-teller could help.

Like Lucky Bennett.

Thinking of Lucky Bennett... Edward Clark picked up his phone.

When Eric Bennett came to get his book, the two of them had added each other on WeChat, but they'd never actually talked.

Eric Bennett's WeChat profile picture was a photo of himself, a full-on face shot—this guy was clearly pretty confident about his looks.

To be fair, he did have a bit of that stray-cat boss vibe.

Chicken Bro, huh.

...Can't call him Chicken Bro, or he'd turn into the shiniest spinning top.

Edward Clark smirked and casually opened Eric Bennett's Moments.

Only the last three days were visible.

But after scrolling down a couple of times, Edward Clark still hadn't reached the end. He suddenly wondered if he should consider muting this chatterbox.

The latest post made Edward Clark pause for a moment—it had just been posted a few minutes ago.

- Xinjia is having a basketball shooting contest, first prize is an induction cooker

Xinjia was a mall, right next door.

Edward Clark looked up and glanced outside.

After hesitating for a few seconds, he sent Eric Bennett a message.

- You're at Xinjia?

Eric Bennett replied instantly.

- Next to Xinjia. Why, does your family need an induction cooker?

- I'm eating fried rice noodles

Eric Bennett didn't reply again, and Edward Clark kept looking out the window.

At most a minute later, Eric Bennett appeared across the street, riding a hoverboard.

Then he glided over in this direction, weaving skillfully through the crowd, visibly showing off. Edward Clark would bet ten copies of "The Mystery of Palmistry" that he wasn't usually this flashy—he was just showing off now.

Childish.

Edward Clark waved at him through the glass.

Eric Bennett stopped outside, pressed his face against the glass, and said something, but Edward Clark couldn't hear.

By now, the shop was getting crowded and a bit noisy.

Out of the corner of his eye, Edward Clark saw someone carrying a tray walking toward his table, so he pushed one plate of fried rice noodles to the other side: "Sorry, this seat's taken."

Eric Bennett cupped his face with his hands and peered inside through the glass again.

"Come in," Edward Clark pointed to the seat across from him. "What are you looking at?"