He had only thought for a few seconds, but David Webb already took his silence as a form of protest. He picked up his wine glass, and Henry Webb was splashed in the face with red wine.

“Speak! When I ask you a question, what kind of attitude is it to stay silent?” David Webb suddenly barked, his face fierce.

Henry Webb's chest rose and fell slightly, letting the wine trickle down his face and snake along his neck. The red color looked a lot like blood.

Beside them, the stepmother and the chubby boy watched the tense standoff between father and son in silence. The chubby boy was very perceptive; when David Webb scolded Henry Webb, he kept his mouth tightly shut, his sly little eyes darting around.

Henry Webb just stared at David Webb, still not saying a word. His gaze was like that of a young tiger unwilling to submit to humiliation, as if in the next instant, he could bare his not-yet-sharp fangs and pounce.

“What’s with that look? Let me tell you, I’m the only one you can rely on now. Your mother is busy sleeping with foreigners in America,” David Webb spoke crudely of his ex-wife, not caring at all that Henry Webb was still a minor. “If she wanted to take care of you, she would have fought for custody back then. But she didn’t want you. I’ve raised you all these years, spent so much money on you, and what, you get upset when I say a couple of words?” David Webb demanded harshly.

“No, Dad, your advice is right.” Henry Webb lowered his eyes.

“I’m warning you, don’t cause trouble at school. If I get another call from somewhere asking a parent to come in, I’ll break your legs.” David Webb declared, his authority absolute.

The dinner table was silent for a few seconds.

Only then did the stepmother smile gently and try to persuade David Webb not to be angry. The chubby boy beside her chimed in, acting cute and putting food into David Webb’s bowl.

This meal was destined to be tasteless and joyless. Later, David Webb chatted with the stepmother about houses and stocks. He was very good at making money and took pride in it. Henry Webb had to admit that, materially, David Webb had never shortchanged him. His food, clothing, and daily needs were far above the average of his classmates, which was why he attracted the attention of the troublemakers at vocational school.

But all of this came at a price.

Henry Webb once thought that as long as he did well in school, David Webb wouldn’t hit him. He was wrong. David Webb always had a nameless rage toward him.

On the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, the streets were crowded, with all kinds of discount promotions attracting many people.

Brian Clark went to the city library early in the morning to reserve a seat, bringing her study materials. Her schedule was very clear: math practice in the morning, English practice in the afternoon, and any extra time spent reading her favorite magazines.

She arrived early, so the library wasn’t crowded. The lingering summer heat was still fierce, but the air conditioning was cool. Brian Clark put her backpack in a locker, filled her thermos with hot water, and when she returned to find a seat, she suddenly froze—a familiar figure appeared in her line of sight without warning.

Henry Webb had also arrived early, sitting alone by the window. The light streaming through outlined the handsome lines of the boy’s face in a gentle golden hue. The scene felt like a detail from a memory turned over and over.

Brian Clark instantly found herself holding her breath, watching him quietly for a few seconds. Then she chose a seat where she could look up and see the boy, but also blend into the crowd and not be noticed.

The melancholy of not being able to spend Mid-Autumn Festival at home instantly faded away.

Meeting Henry Webb made it a truly wonderful day.

A strong wave of happiness surged in her chest, but mixed with her secret delight was a faint, indescribable sense of shame.

But Brian Clark was afraid Henry Webb would see her, so she tiptoed around, deliberately making a detour to the bookshelf to look for "Book City" magazine.

After checking several times, Brian Clark finally accepted that the library no longer had the latest issue of "Book City." In the months before the high school entrance exam, Brian Clark had given up all extracurricular books and magazines. After the exam, she went traveling with Wang Jingjing’s mother, and then spent the summer studying high school material. All in all, it had been almost a year since she last read "Book City."

The latest issue was from December 2005, but even that was from last year.

Brian Clark stared blankly at the bookshelf, pulled out the December issue, and a tiny gap appeared on the shelf. Caught off guard, she met a pair of eyes on the other side: Henry Webb was also looking for magazines.

The library was very quiet, but inside Brian Clark, waves crashed against the shore.

The girl’s eyes were dark and bright, and in her panic, she seemed entranced, forgetting to look away, staring unblinkingly at Henry Webb.

At school, Henry Webb was always the center of attention. Every Monday at the flag-raising ceremony, as the flag bearer, he was the focus of everyone’s gaze.

Only at this moment did Brian Clark clearly realize that Henry Webb belonged to her alone. In this cramped space, only she saw Henry Webb; no one else did.

The two of them quietly looked at each other for a moment.

Henry Webb thought the girl he’d run into had something to say, but she just silently gazed at him.

“Is there something you need?” the boy asked in a low voice.

Brian Clark snapped back to reality, her face flushing red. It was the first time Henry Webb had seen someone have such a strong physical reaction—their face, originally pale, suddenly burning bright red.

“Um, do you know why ‘Book City’ magazine only goes up to 2005?” In her panic, she grabbed at the first question she could think of.

Brian Clark didn’t really expect him to know; she was just too embarrassed and needed any question to break the awkwardness.

“It stopped publishing,” Henry Webb told her calmly.