Susan Clark didn’t know what this meant, so she could only look back as well.

Unexpectedly, Ian Shaw didn’t avert his gaze. As their eyes met, she didn’t know what expression to put on, so she just blinked a few times.

Putting aside other factors, she had prepared for this job for a long time. The more she looked forward to it, the more nervous she felt.

After a moment, Ian Shaw seemed to think of something and let out a barely audible snort through his nose, then withdrew his gaze.

Susan Clark: ?

If I didn’t have ulterior motives toward you, I’d have to make you explain what that micro-expression meant today.

While Susan Clark was silently complaining, Ian Shaw raised his hand to loosen his tie, then began to answer Susan Clark’s questions.

When he spoke his first sentence, Susan Clark was still in a daze, but she quickly lowered her head and started taking notes.

Ian Shaw’s answers were highly logical and tightly connected. Each response was concise but packed with information. Susan Clark didn’t dare miss a single word and listened intently.

The car sped along, up the mountain road, into a tunnel, around an overpass—Susan Clark never once looked up to notice the changing scenery outside the window.

She brought up one topic after another, barely having any time to wonder where the car was headed.

By the time she finished all the points in her outline, the recorder showed that an hour and fifty-six minutes had passed.

It was actually very difficult to keep up with his train of thought; the level of focus required was almost like taking an exam. She also had to analyze his answers to avoid asking repetitive questions and making herself a laughingstock. So by the time Susan Clark finished jotting down the last key point, her palm was already covered in a fine layer of sweat.

Susan Clark looked up and glanced at Ian Shaw, seeing that his expression was calm, not nearly as tense as she was.

Her gaze gradually lingered on his eyes.

From the side, the lenses of his glasses cast a faint glow on his eyelashes. His emotions were unreadable, yet it was hard to look away.

“Are you done with your questions?” Ian Shaw suddenly turned to look at her.

Susan Clark quickly looked away. “I’m done.”

The next second.

Susan Clark: “……”

The already quiet car seemed to become even more silent.

She capped her pen, pretending nothing had happened, lowered her head and flipped through her notebook, trying to cover up the embarrassment of being caught stealing glances at him.

After a brief silence, Susan Clark started to feel a bit uneasy and quietly glanced up at Ian Shaw.

She happened to meet Ian Shaw’s gaze.

He slowly straightened his upper body, raised his hand to adjust his tie, and his eyes on her grew unreadable.

At that moment, the car slowly came to a stop.

Susan Clark secretly squeezed her palm in anxiety.

She’d slipped up.

She should have kept a low profile.

The car remained quiet. A gust of cold wind blew in, making Susan Clark shiver unexpectedly.

It was in this moment that Ian Shaw looked away, opened the car door, bent down to get out, and tossed back a sentence.

“Two hours are up.”

Susan Clark: “……”

His series of actions was so quick that Susan Clark was momentarily dazed, only snapping out of the tension from their earlier eye contact.

She immediately looked up and glanced out the car window.

Vast stretches of grassland, rows of wooden fences, a few horses grazing here and there, a forest at the end with withered yellow trees, and the sky piled with gray clouds, looking as if they’d press down on the woods at any moment.

???

What kind of godforsaken place is this?

Ian Shaw stood by the car, looking off into the distance, as if he’d already forgotten Susan Clark’s existence.

Susan Clark gripped the car window with both hands, flustered and anxious.

And Ian Shaw’s back seemed to scream “indifference” in bold letters.

Just as she was about to speak, Ian Shaw turned back, lifted his eyelids, and said, “You can go now.”

Susan Clark: ?

How am I supposed to leave this desolate wilderness?

Ride a horse?

Seeing that Ian Shaw was really about to leave, Susan Clark hurriedly got out of the car to catch up.

“Mr. Shi, I have one last question.”

She pressed her lips together. “How about we talk about something else?”

Ian Shaw’s attention was on his phone; he didn’t look at Susan Clark.

“Go ahead.”

Susan Clark stood behind him and asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Ian Shaw’s fingers paused, and he turned his head to look at her.

Susan Clark smiled sweetly at Ian Shaw, looking as if she meant nothing by it—after all, many reporters end interviews with such questions to lighten the mood.

In reality, her hand at her side was already clenched into a fist.

Ian Shaw’s gaze dropped, scrutinizing her face with a hint of curiosity.

Just as he was about to speak, a male voice called out from not far away.

“Ian Shaw!”

Ian Shaw immediately looked up. An elderly man in equestrian attire was striding toward them.

At first, Susan Clark just followed Ian Shaw’s gaze, thinking the old man’s voice sounded familiar.

As he got closer and his face became clear, Susan Clark suddenly realized—she really did know him.

To be precise, she knew of this legendary figure in the financial world.

Susan Clark had majored in journalism at a finance university. In her very first professional class, the teacher had mentioned this man—Charles Green.