19 All He Needed Is a Chance

Dinner was still at Roosevelt's. John pushed the door open and scanned the private room, his eyes meeting Alice's as she sat next to Mike. Jack was introducing everyone one by one until they sat down and the dish arrived.

He chatted with the older gentleman next to him before finally glancing across at Alice. A young lady sat next to her, and they were talking in low voices with smiles--but her posture was rigid, and she seemed to be deliberately keeping her distance from Mike.

All the older gentlemen at the table were renowned historians, and Alice felt like she was back in college, listening to her teachers talk about the research of senior scholars. These elders, who had spent their lives in history, had accumulated the essence of their nation's culture.

Many asked about Mike's mentor, Mr. Anderson, who was now mostly in the hospital, was unable to see clearly, and therefore needed others to read for him, but he was willing to see some young students.

The forum, however, was more about the upcoming collection of Mr. Anderson's works.

The dinner was somewhat awkward for Alice, and she didn't really want to come, but she was eventually persuaded.

She decided to keep quiet and listen carefully, listening to the older gentlemen's witty remarks and feeling increasingly down: turned out these things were really so far away from her. The once-familiar eras and figures could only be seen in poorly made historical dramas. It turned out that the world she once knew hadn't changed, but she had.

John stood up and toasted everyone. Alice looked up, their eyes met for a moment, and it seemed as if a delicate ripple passed through the air.

The deep red wine in their glasses gently swayed under the light. Kate whispered to Alice, "Your job is amazing, you can meet with hunks every day!"

Alice laughed and asked, "Which one is more handsome?"

It stumped Kate, who laughed, "Emotionally, I prefer my mentor--but Mr. Williams is also very attractive." She shrugged, unable to help to look at John, an outstanding man--sure enough, he was the focus of attention wherever he went, or perhaps he noticed her gaze and gave her a gentle smile, which Alice returned with a smile and looked away.

The older professors didn't stay long--the organizers thanked Lemon for their sponsorship and quickly left. Alice said goodbye to Jack at the door before smiling at Mike and saying, "Hey, I'll leave first." Then she left with Kate, in case of more embarrassment, she left in a hurry without considering etiquette.

People were staying in different places, and since Mike was alone in Building Four, he happened to be on the same path as John.

They weren't very close, so they just chatted casually. As they approached their turns, John suddenly stopped and asked, "Mr Jones, would you like to go for a walk by the river?"

Mike wasn't surprised and nodded, "Sure."

They met hotel staff along the way, and according to the rules, the staff should step aside and let the customers pass first, then smile and say hello before leaving. John and Mike stood side by side, both tall, their demeanor elegant and refined, very outstanding in the night.

"I've seen your photo before, a long time ago, right?" John seemed to ask him, paused for a moment, then continued, "At Miss Smith's place."

Mike started to share him with their story. "Probably at the entrance of Oxford University," Mike's smile softened his features, perhaps unconsciously, even his tone slowing down, "That was when she was in her second year."

He didn't mean to cast his mind back; it just seemed to flow smoothly through his mind, like a prose poem.

On such a night, under the heavy twilight, their conversation was just superficial, as if casually mentioning their only connection--Alice. Yet, they calmly let the name slip away as if just talking about a passerby.

Finally, as the moon was hidden by the clouds and a streetlight above their heads turned off, John turned to him, asking, "Do you come back for her this time?"

He paused, then smiled, putting his hands in his trench coat pocket, "Maybe yes, maybe no. Either doesn't seem quite right."

John waited for him to continue.

"It's too late." His tone was calm but sad--he had thought that if three years couldn't calm his love, then all that talk about self-control and self-cultivation was just empty words. Yet, when he recalled those memories, he couldn't help but smile bitterly.

John nodded silently, but his mind was only filled with Alice's expression--she seemed to be herself when beside this man. She wanted to get close to him, but she dared to get close.

Mike added, "It's really too late," with a depressing tone that made John slightly frown--they were both smart and didn't need to spell everything out. He didn't even ask why, just let out a barely audible sigh.

But he couldn't deny that there was a faint sense of joy creeping up in his heart--this joy was completely without malice--he was a decisive person, and since the past was over, he would come into her life in another way.

They stood in silence, broken by John's phone call. His secretary informed him that the housing matter was being taken care of, and he acknowledged it. He suddenly said to Mike in a low voice, "It's a real pity." His tone was sincere, tinged with regret. Mike turned and walked back with the words, "It's chilly."

They parted in the lobby, and John watched the tall, slightly slim figure walk away.

Suddenly, he felt like he had witnessed a parting, never thinking that there could be such a feeling of helplessness that made him feel heavy--yet this heaviness was also so good for him. All he needed was a chance.