Susan Clark double-checked—yes, she was being carried.

Not held, not supported, but carried.

However, at this moment, Susan Clark had no energy to be angry about how ridiculous this action was. As soon as the horse stopped, she immediately slid down, not caring how awkward she looked. The instant her feet touched the ground, she felt alive again and stumbled back several steps.

Ian Shaw sat on the horse, looking down at her from above, leisurely playing with the reins.

“Not learning anymore?”

“No, no.” Susan Clark’s eyes were unfocused as she messily tugged at her bangs. “I just wanted to experience it.”

Not far away, Charles Green had stopped and was looking over.

Ian Shaw gave a soft “mm,” got down, and led the horse toward Charles Green.

He looked extremely gentle, as if he hadn’t just done something like that.

Susan Clark watched his back, her emotions still in turmoil.

She tried for the third time to adjust her mindset.

—A few minutes later, she failed.

Awful. This person was truly awful.

Maybe Márquez wasn’t always right—at least she couldn’t even get past this saddle in front of her.

I’m done, goodbye, I’m out.

Meanwhile, the two people in the distance seemed to be talking about something. Charles Green glanced over, smiled at Susan Clark, and shook his head.

Then—if Susan Clark wasn’t mistaken, Ian Shaw seemed to smile as well.

He did smile.

She rolled her eyes inwardly and quietly took a few more steps back.

After that, Ian Shaw only kept Charles Green company, and the two never came back her way.

——

On the way back, she still rode in Ian Shaw’s car.

Just like before, they both sat in the back seat.

The psychological shadow of horseback riding lingered in Susan Clark’s mind. She pressed herself against the window, gripping the handle tightly, as if there were eight hundred meters between her and Ian Shaw, terrified the car would start bumping around too.

But today’s experience had truly exhausted her. As the car wound along the twisting mountain road, it felt like a cradle, and soon, she fell asleep against the window.

When she woke up, only the driver was in the car.

The car was parked right below her apartment building.

After getting out, Susan Clark thanked the driver and turned to walk into the complex.

But after just a few steps, she touched her ear and realized her left side felt empty.

She’d checked when leaving the stables that her earrings were still there, so if one was missing now, it must have fallen off in the car. She immediately turned back.

“Hey—”

The car was already far away.

Forget it.

Susan Clark couldn’t be bothered about a fifty-yuan pair of earrings from a jewelry shop.

——

The next morning, when Susan Clark arrived at the office, her steps were unsteady.

She had just reached the work area when Nancy Cole started making eyes at her. As soon as she sat down, Nancy Cole hurriedly turned around and whispered, “You didn’t check your phone? Why didn’t you reply to my WeChat?”

“There were too many group messages, it got pushed down.” Susan Clark said as she turned on her computer. “What’s up?”

Nancy Cole looked around, lowered her voice even more, and rattled off like a machine gun: “I went to the editor-in-chief’s office this morning and saw Lily Hughes handing in an article. I was thinking, she didn’t have any interview assignments these past two days, so what was she submitting? I sneaked a look at her article—guess what? Yesterday she actually went to interview Ian Shaw!”

The moment she heard the words “Ian Shaw,” Susan Clark’s head started to ache. Adding Lily Hughes into the mix, she felt like her head was about to explode.

Susan Clark rubbed her temples and turned on her computer. “I know.”

She’d told Ethan Turner about it yesterday too.

“I figured you’d know.” Nancy Cole leaned in even closer. “But you know what’s most infuriating? Didn’t you show me your outline? Well, I looked at her article, and the outline is a complete copy of yours!”

“…?”

Susan Clark’s hand suddenly tightened on the mouse, her eyes wide: “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Nancy Cole said seriously. “Would I joke about something like this? I helped you review your outline, I remember it perfectly, there’s no way I’m mistaken. Every single question is exactly the same.”

“……”

No wonder, during the interview with Ian Shaw yesterday, he’d given her such a baffled look at her questions.

Susan Clark slammed her mouse, then leaned back in her chair with a “bang,” her eyes on the computer practically shooting fire.

Is Mercury in retrograde or something? Why are all these petty people coming after her?

“Now Editor-in-Chief Turner knows too, so let’s see what she says.” Nancy Cole patted Susan Clark’s back to comfort her. “Did you lose sleep last night after finding out you got scooped? You look so worn out.”

Susan Clark turned her head and saw Lily Hughes on the other side, holding a cup of coffee, standing by the window chatting with the admin supervisor.

She looked radiant, her freshly done nails sparkling in the sunlight, almost blinding Susan Clark.

Susan Clark took a big gulp of water, suppressed her anger, and finally said, “I just pulled an all-nighter writing.”

Even scheduled interviews could get scooped—if she didn’t work overtime, was she supposed to wait until the other person’s article was published before submitting hers with a smile?