Edward Bennett lazily sighed, “A boss going through menopause is truly one of the tragedies of the human world. How about this: Brother Harris and that pretty policewoman can ride with me. I’ll drive you all back to the bureau. After a long day, at least take a spacious car and stretch your legs.”

“This isn’t spacious enough for you? Mr. Bennett, then you’d better never try a prisoner transport van—you won’t even be able to stretch your arms in there.”

“Thank you for the reminder—Eric Harris, I’ve reserved a table at a Western restaurant near your office. Even if you have to work overtime, you should eat first, right?”

“We public servants don’t eat. We haven’t even caught the murderer yet—how could we have the nerve to eat?”

Samuel Reed still hadn’t figured out who she’d offended.

Eric Harris, who hadn’t been able to get a word in, finally couldn’t take it anymore: “Enough, you two! Give it a rest!”

William Carter let out a cold laugh, turned, and walked away: “Come on—Big-Eyed Reed, what are you looking at? If you want to stare at pretty boys, do it at home. Don’t waste time here!”

“Tsk, beauty, have you considered switching careers and joining our company?” Edward Bennett tilted his head at Samuel Reed in a very “bossy CEO” way. “Someone like you being a cop is such a waste. I’ll pay you five times your salary.”

Eric Harris glared back at him: “You could stand to say a little less!”

Edward Bennett looked at him steadily, nodded with exaggerated “obedience,” but of course still fanned the flames: “Alright, just for you.”

William Carter: “Eric Harris, why are you still dawdling!”

Neither of these two big shots could be offended, so Officer Harris could only roll his eyes at the innocent night sky and quickly catch up with William Carter.

After a few steps, he instinctively looked back, and sure enough, he saw Edward Bennett standing motionless, watching him leave. When he turned around, Edward Bennett, as if he’d expected this, suddenly smiled, pressed two fingers to his lips, and then flicked them lightly toward Eric Harris.

Eric Harris: “……”

If the international community ever gave out awards for playboys, Young Master Bennett might have already won a Nobel.

William Carter drove the police car like the Chang’e-3 lunar rover, barreling recklessly back to the bureau, while the seemingly bulky SUV behind them cruised along effortlessly, keeping pace.

Samuel Reed held back for a long time, but finally couldn’t resist blurting out, “Who’s that pretty boy? He sure drives well.”

Eric Harris shot her a subtle look, telling her not to bring up the wrong topic, but it was already too late.

William Carter saw in the rearview mirror that Edward Bennett had parked at the bureau entrance and immediately called the traffic police next door: “There’s an illegally parked car at our entrance. Go ticket it—he’s got plenty of money, so give him a few more.”

A while later, a young traffic cop nervously called him back: “Captain Carter, I ticketed him and told him, ‘Illegal parking, 200 yuan fine.’”

William Carter: “And?”

The young cop said, “Oh, he gave me a thousand and said he wanted to park for another eight hundred’s worth.”

William Carter: “……”

Samuel Reed glanced at him cautiously: “Boss, are we still having the meeting?”

William Carter: “Of course!”

But William Carter couldn’t keep Eric Harris from leaving forever. Their day’s work was clear, and there really wasn’t much overtime left to do.

Edward Bennett folded the ticket into a little boat, turned on the AC, leaned back comfortably in his seat, and, surrounded by the car’s fragrance, leisurely looped an English song. By the eighth repeat, Eric Harris came out.

Eric Harris wasn’t a fussy person—he had an old messenger bag slung over his shoulder, messy hair, shoes that hadn’t been polished in days, a band-aid on his chin, and a look of frazzled exhaustion on his face. He really didn’t look like a heartthrob. He walked up and knocked on Edward Bennett’s window: “You still haven’t moved your car?”

Edward Bennett rolled down the window, and the looping “You Raise Me Up” eagerly escaped through the crack, soaring into the night and drifting away melodiously.

Hearing the song, Eric Harris’s expression changed for some reason, but before he could say anything, Edward Bennett nonchalantly turned off the music.

“Your fight video got posted online. I just happened to see it,” Edward Bennett got out of the car and pointed at the band-aid on Eric Harris’s chin. “I was a bit worried about you. Are you alright?”

Eric Harris gave a wry smile—handling ten brawls among civilians wasn’t as exhausting as being caught between William Carter and Edward Bennett.

“Alright, next time I’ll steer clear of that menopausal one, okay?” Edward Bennett took his bag. “Do you want to drive or ride?”

“Please, that ‘menopausal’ one is my peer.” Eric Harris opened the door and got into the driver’s seat. “Why are you driving a different car again?”

“Didn’t you say my other cars were too flashy?” Edward Bennett casually walked around to the passenger side. “So I bought another one—this one’s cheap and steady. From now on, it’s your exclusive ride.”

Eric Harris’s hand paused as he fastened his seatbelt. Then he looked at Edward Bennett and said seriously, “If only my salary were higher and I had fewer shifts, I’d have gotten married long ago. By now, my kid might even be walking.”

“I know,” Edward Bennett leaned his elbow on the window, turned his head and smiled at him. “Look at those kids who chase celebrities—they spend money and time all day, and they don’t really have a goal, just want to make themselves happy. Being good to you is the best part of my day. You’ve put up with me for so many years—just keep tolerating me a bit longer.”

Eric Harris: “……”