He had a total of four students; the other three were all his graduate students. Now, one is a senior executive at a large corporation, another has started a specialized logistics company and is on the rise.

Another stayed at the university as a faculty member and has now published several top-tier academic papers, with a bright future ahead.

But only William Thompson, the student he had once reserved for himself, now...

"Xiao Yi, I checked, your file hasn't been transferred yet, so you probably haven't found a job, right?" he asked softly.

"No, but I'm looking. Don't worry, I already have some leads." William Thompson stood up and walked closer. From the man's eyes, he could faintly see a trace of regret and helplessness.

Outside the door, the voices of the other two senior brothers chatting could be heard, and it seemed the last senior sister was also about to arrive by car.

"Don't be embarrassed. I know your temperament well enough." David Brooks said in a low voice. After all these years as teacher and student, even though William Thompson was now down and out, he still decided to give him one last helping hand, and just happened to have an opportunity.

As he spoke, he opened the second drawer of the desk, took out a locked file, opened the metal lock, and pulled out a brown envelope that had long been prepared.

'You can try this company. This is a letter of introduction I wrote. Their general manager is an old friend of mine. Arranging a position for you shouldn't be a problem.' David Brooks handed the envelope to William Thompson.

"Professor..." William Thompson was a bit stunned, not knowing what to say.

"I know a bit about your family situation. Your sister needs money, your parents have low incomes, and now the factory has started cutting wages. But you have to believe, the difficulties are only temporary. If you really can't manage, just call me!" David Brooks said seriously.

"I..." William Thompson was suddenly a bit moved. Even though his former self was gone, in a person's life, to meet someone who truly cares for you is really rare.

"Remember, don't waste your talent..." David Brooks sighed, patted William Thompson's shoulder, and stuffed the letter into his hand.

Compared to the other students' brilliant development, the situation of William Thompson in front of him seemed all the more difficult.

"Thank you." William Thompson stepped back respectfully and bowed his head in a bow.

"I'll remember."

"Go on, go on." David Brooks waved his hand, his expression a bit lonely.

He lowered his head, picked up a pack of cigarettes from the corner of the desk, took one out and bit it, about to look for a lighter, but after fumbling for a while, he put it down again.

He took the cigarette out, said nothing more, waved at William Thompson again, then turned his back and looked out the window at the pink flower branches.

William Thompson bowed again, turned around, and left with the letter.

After leaving the office, he turned to go downstairs and almost bumped into a red-haired girl wearing a yellow short leather jacket and tight gray pants.

"Hey, you are...?" The girl paused, seeming to recognize William Thompson.

"It's Peter Brooks’s little sister, long time no see." William Thompson recognized her. The girl in front of him was David Brooks Professor David Brooks's own daughter, Peter Brooks, who had been studying abroad and only recently returned.

Back then, his former self and Peter Brooks were fairly close, often joking that when he started his own company and made it big, he would have Peter Brooks be his secretary.

But now...

"Peter Brooks, hurry up, over here." Just as Peter Brooks was about to reply, someone from the office called her.

"See you at the alumni gathering tonight." She smiled and walked away quickly.

William Thompson didn't have time to reply before he saw her walk off briskly.

The alumni gathering was for people who had achieved something, but he, a graduate who hadn't even found a job...

He glanced back and saw the three of them together: the two senior brothers, looking every bit the successful professionals, chatting and getting close to Peter Brooks.

That kind of circle—his former self should have been one of them, but...

He said nothing more, turned around, and walked downstairs.

Downstairs, two sedans were parked, one black and one white, squeezed in rather tightly.

William Thompson looked around and decided to squeeze through the gap between the cars.

He walked quickly with his head down, and after a short distance, just as he was about to pass through the gap, he suddenly stopped in front of the side mirrors of the two cars.

'What is that?'

He stared intently at the side mirror in front of him.

In the mirror, on the back of his right hand, there seemed to be a jet-black pattern, like a vine or tree root.

The pattern extended from the back of his hand to his wrist, as if something had parasitized his hand and grown roots.

Swish.

William Thompson raised his right hand and looked closely—his hand was fair and clean, with nothing on it.

No pattern, not even a scar.

He shifted his gaze back to the side mirror.

In the car's side mirror, it clearly reflected a black pattern, about the size of an egg, on the back of his right hand.

But in reality, when he waved his hand, there was nothing on it.

William Thompson felt a bit dazed. Just a moment ago, he had been immersed in thoughts about his future job and plans.

But now, this scene instantly pulled him out of reality, reminding him of the strange experience he had the previous night.

Reminding him of that dream that felt as real as reality.

And now, this situation again...

'What is this thing?'