Henry Clark's slender fingers took it from her; she could clearly see the small shadow cast beneath his eyelashes. The next second, Henry Clark actually began to carefully read through the problem-solving approach she had jotted down at random.

Very soon, Henry Clark looked up and asked her in a low voice, "Fisher linear discriminant function?"

"Ah?"

"Classification of the complete solution?"

She shook her head.

"It's already very good."

Henry Clark handed the draft paper back to her, nodded at her, then put his hands back in his pockets and turned to leave.

The whole process was extremely quick; David Carter didn't even understand what had just happened, but people all around were asking her questions.

"Senior, you're amazing! The male god said you did really well—can I take a look at your approach?"

"What did Henry Clark just say to you?"

"Are you really from the philosophy department, senior?"

David Carter could barely hear any of the voices around her. She withdrew her gaze from Henry Clark's departing figure and looked again at the draft paper in her hand.

After calming down, she was certain that the fleeting expression she had just seen in Henry Clark's eyes was regret. Whether it was about the "function" or the "classification," or maybe Henry Clark was trying to inspire her—it didn't matter. But she couldn't even repeat the terms Henry Clark had just mentioned.

Already... very good...

But for a philosophy student, it was just "very good."

Suddenly, David Carter felt sad, because in that moment she clearly realized that the distance between her and this problem was the same as the distance between her and Henry Clark.

In other words, seemingly within reach, but actually unattainable.

She couldn't stay any longer. She handed the draft paper to a boy who wanted to see it, greeted William Scott, and then left through the back door, following the crowd in another direction.

As she neared the end of the corridor, she took a deep breath and turned back, wanting to take one last look at Henry Clark.

In her line of sight were the gaps between people, youthful smiles, and all kinds of clothing, but in that instant, what she saw most clearly was the white chalk dust on Henry Clark's fingertips and clothes.

The last clear daylight fell upon him.

How wonderful.

David Carter turned her head back and looked at the distant sky.

So it turns out, the plot doesn't fundamentally change just because of a sudden pause.

In the end, they would drift apart just like this, and in the long journey of life, never meet again.

Chapter 5: The Problem

When she left the lecture hall, David Carter actually felt quite relieved.

She hadn't studied math well, so what could she do if she couldn't solve the problem set by the male god?

But on the way home, the bus was so crowded that she was squeezed the whole way, and after getting off, her mood collapsed a little.

It was already completely dark.

Outside the new neighborhood, the barbecue stalls were already set up, smoke curling up, and the aroma of lamb skewers and grilled scallops filled the air.

Standing in front of a familiar barbecue stall, her mind was full of Henry Clark's departing figure. Hungry and uncomfortable, she sent a WeChat message to Old Carter to ask if he wanted to come down and eat together.

Old Carter replied quickly—[Wonderful].

Holding her phone and waiting upwind, she ordered the usual things they always got. But even when the food was halfway done, there was still no sign of Old Carter at the entrance to the neighborhood. Staring at the dark and lonely iron gate, a sudden sense of foreboding rose in David Carter's heart.

Her hand was shaking as she dialed Old Carter's number.

All around her was a hubbub of voices, but all she could hear was the "beep... beep..." of the call waiting tone.

Her heart sank to the bottom. What was wrong with her, asking her dad to come downstairs for barbecue!

After one unanswered call, David Carter decisively gave up on calling again. She said a word to the barbecue stall owner and ran toward the entrance of the neighborhood.

When they were chatting on WeChat, Old Carter was still at home. If Old Carter hadn't left through the back door, the most likely scenario was that he was still at home...

But why wasn't he answering the phone?

In just a few minutes' walk, countless possibilities flashed through David Carter's mind.

She sprinted to the door of her house and suddenly saw a leisurely figure under the tree.

An old man in a sweat-stained shirt, wearing plastic slippers, idly teasing a stray cat passing by with one hand.

In an instant...

Countless breaths of air rushed into her chest; David Carter's legs went weak and she almost collapsed to the ground.

After composing herself, she walked up to Old Carter.

Old Carter looked up, surprised. "Why did you run back? Trying to lose weight?"

A sense of foreboding flashed through David Carter's mind. It seemed Old Carter had completely forgotten about their barbecue plans.

"What are you doing here?" She chose a question that couldn't go wrong, testing the waters.

"Forgot my keys when I took out the trash. Waiting for my daughter to come back and rescue me, and feeding the mosquitoes while I'm at it."

"Where's your phone? I called you a bunch of times and you didn't answer."

"Who takes their phone out when throwing out the trash?"

Old Carter replied righteously, as if the mistake was perfectly normal. Her heart sank again—Old Carter really had completely forgotten.

Forgetting recent events and having trouble planning upcoming tasks—this was all too normal for an Alzheimer's patient.

She'd encountered similar situations before.

But now, under this tree, facing her father's confused face, all she felt was deep helplessness.

Humans are so fragile and powerless in the face of illness—there's nothing that can be done.

Looking at her father, David Carter forced herself to smile, pretending nothing had happened.

"Master Carter, have you made dinner yet? I'm starving."