David Clark did not get off the train with Emily Thompson and the others. Leo had already taken Rusty Laifu to continue battling the train police for another three hundred rounds. With his agility, escaping shouldn’t be too difficult—this guy is the kind of madman who can dive into a river or a pond and catch a giant grass carp. After David Clark and Sparrow left the station, they first bought a map of Shanghai. While Sparrow went to buy breakfast, David Clark started studying the dense map, aiming to spend the least money and time to reach Yangpu University Town. David Clark had always been good at math—actually, freakishly good—so by the time Sparrow came back with tea eggs, he had already figured out the optimal route.

After finishing the tea eggs and getting ready to leave, the Nokia ringtone sounded. David Clark pulled out the only battered phone he’d ever owned. It was an unfamiliar number. He answered, listened for a few moments, then said, “No need, I’ll take the bus myself.”

A minute after hanging up, the phone rang again. David Clark picked it up and said calmly, “Don’t worry, I’ll help explain things to Eric Clark.”

“Uncle, who was that?” Sparrow asked with a grin.

“A driver arranged by Jack Clark, a real big shot. I can’t afford to worship someone like that, and apparently people like him have no interest in people like me. I’m not going to go out of my way to make myself unwelcome.” David Clark said self-mockingly.

“Self-reliance is best. But Uncle, you should still send Little Grandpa a text to explain, so the old man doesn’t worry.” Sparrow nodded and smiled. He knew Uncle Eight’s temperament best—hates trouble, never makes things difficult for himself. But he understood that old grandpa’s character even better—loves trouble, always looking for fun or stirring up mischief when bored, a legendary figure.

“Let’s go.” After standing up, David Clark led his little brother—who attracted even more attention than he did—out of the train station.

Emily Thompson and her group didn’t need to bother with taxis or school buses because they had Brian Kent “covering” them. They were picked up directly by Young Master from Townsend’s private cars in Shanghai: an Audi and two BMWs parked side by side in the lot. But for Tangshan people, even ordinary folks, this was nothing special. Tangshan is a city where you see luxury cars every hundred meters on the street. Its wealth and explosive growth are legendary among outsiders. So when Emily Thompson and her group got in the cars, they weren’t surprised. What did catch their attention was a red Audi R8 not far away. Anyone who knows cars knows it’s hard for a four-wheeler to pull off a truly striking red—Ferrari’s classic red is one, and that R8 was another. But that wasn’t the main point—the real stunner was the woman inside, sitting there without any makeup.

In today’s society, a woman who dares to go out without makeup is either someone who’s given up on herself, someone too poor or too lazy to bother, or one of the rare few who truly deserve the phrase “naturally beautiful.” Rarer still are those who look even better without makeup than with it.

Emily Thompson and Claire Sutton’s group were both lucky and a bit dismayed to encounter such a stunning beauty.

No makeup, no sunglasses, about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, wearing unique, uncommon clothes that you’d never see on anyone else—yet not at all awkward, but rather understated and elegant, perfectly matching her looks and temperament. She sat quietly and serenely in the driver’s seat of the R8, looking fresh and composed.

“Qingci, doesn’t that woman look familiar to you?” Claire Sutton and Emily Thompson had a bit of privilege, so the two of them chose the Audi and sat in the back, with Brian Kent in the front passenger seat. A young Rich Kid from Townsend who lived in Shanghai was driving. Claire Sutton kept observing the beauty in the R8 across from them, searching for any flaw, but in the end, found none. She was wealthy without a trace of nouveau riche or trophy-wife airs, dignified and serene without seeming arrogant. Claire Sutton had to admit, she was indeed the kind of public enemy who could make other women despair.

“A little,” Emily Thompson nodded.

“Doesn’t she look a lot like Diana Brooks from Caofeidian District in Tangshan? We noticed her while waiting for you guys—she arrived a bit later than us. Her driving skills are top-notch; the way she reversed was so smooth, she must have been driving for years.” The Rich Kid from Townsend said with a smile.

“She really does. There aren’t many good roles in the entertainment industry, but Diana Brooks is one of the very few actresses I can accept—not one of those messy, clownish types.” Claire Sutton said in surprise. Caofeidian in Tangshan is a region rich in oil and other resources, so it produces a lot of wealthy people. But about five years ago, an art film actress named Diana Brooks emerged, completely scandal-free and very niche, since she only acted in highly artistic, obscure films—maybe seven or eight in total. She never gave interviews to newspapers or magazines, and reportedly even turned down major TV programs. So not many people know her, but anyone who’s seen her films is rarely immune to her unique charm. Among her long list of die-hard fans are many highly successful people over fifty. Claire Sutton was from Tangshan, so she knew about Diana Brooks, this lotus flower that seemed to rise unstained from the mud.

“We didn’t dare go up and ask—if it wasn’t her, that would be really embarrassing.” The Rich Kid from Townsend said with a regretful smile as he started the car.