Jack Dawson may have gained part of his past life's memories because of that gray stone, but those memories are far from complete. At the very least, he didn't recognize the man and woman in front of him.

  “Mark Dawson, don't you recognize me? I'm Cathy Lane, your high school classmate...” Cathy Lane didn't continue speaking. She sensed that Mark Dawson must have suffered some kind of mental shock and was now a bit dazed. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come to such a remote place as the Wangchuan Mountains, looking so disheveled. She sighed inwardly, knowing there was nothing she could do to help with this kind of situation.

  “Here’s a thousand yuan, take it. I really can't help you any more than this.” Cathy Lane took out her wallet, counted out ten bills, and handed them to Jack Dawson.

  “I have a few hundred, too.” The young man following behind Cathy Lane quickly took out several hundred yuan and handed it to Jack Dawson as well.

  Jack Dawson stuffed the last piece of bread into his mouth, stood up, and waved his hand, saying, “Thank you, Cathy Lane, but I don't need money for now. I just have something I need your help with.”

  “Ah...” Cathy Lane let out a sound, then breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Mark Dawson, I thought you had a mental breakdown because of what happened with Grace.”

  Even so, Cathy Lane still felt a bit suspicious. In her eyes, there seemed to be something indescribable in Mark Dawson's gaze, something she had never seen there before.

  Grace was a name Jack Dawson knew—it was the woman he had divorced in his past life, named Grace Sullivan.

  Right now, Jack Dawson had no interest in worrying about who this Grace was. Over the past few days, he had figured things out completely: if he wanted to survive here, he had to rely on his past life's identity.

  But the memories he had gained from his past life were incomplete, so when he met someone familiar from that life, he wanted to ask a few things.

  “Go ahead, as long as it's something I can help with...” Cathy Lane paused here, her tone growing a bit hesitant. “Mark Dawson, if it's about Grace, I really can't help, besides, besides...”

  Jack Dawson smiled. “I used to be hung up on what happened with Grace, but after everything I've been through, that's long in the past. What I need your help with is something else.”

Chapter 9: Who Am I

  The memories Jack Dawson had recovered from his past life were mainly about language and what kind of world he had lived in; his memories of the people and events around him were very vague. He wasn't even sure if his past self liked or hated Grace Sullivan; he could only gloss over it with vague words.

  “All right then, Ryan Allen and I have already burned incense. Why don't you come back to the hotel with us?” Hearing it wasn't about Grace Sullivan, Cathy Lane immediately relaxed.

  Cathy Lane was a very warm-hearted high school classmate—this was the impression Jack Dawson had of her.

  ...

  It was over an hour's drive from Wangchuan Temple to the county hotel where Cathy Lane was staying. Because Jack Dawson looked like a homeless man, he attracted a lot of attention on the bus.

  Cathy Lane was no stranger to Mark Dawson, not just because they were high school classmates, but also because she had attended the wedding of Grace Sullivan and Mark Dawson two years ago.

  Although Cathy Lane didn't understand why someone as outstanding as Grace Sullivan would marry Mark Dawson, she wasn't surprised when they divorced. The two of them just didn't seem to be on the same level at all; no matter the reason for their marriage, it would have been strange if they hadn't divorced.

  What struck Cathy Lane as odd was how much Mark Dawson had changed.

  Previously, Mark Dawson had seemed quiet, introverted, and timid. But during the two-hour ride to the hotel today, Mark Dawson hadn't stopped asking questions, as if he was just making conversation, or maybe as if he hadn't spoken to anyone in a long time and wanted to say everything at once.

  “Mark Dawson, what do you need my help with?” After returning to the Zhenyuan Hotel, Cathy Lane got straight to the point. She was already a bit overwhelmed by how much Jack Dawson talked—he was just too long-winded. Could a failed marriage really change someone's personality this much?

  “You two talk, I'll go buy a few sets of clothes for Brother Mark.” Ryan Allen, who was with Cathy Lane, volunteered, apparently not wanting to get involved in the conversation between Jack Dawson and Cathy Lane.

  Jack Dawson smiled. “Thank you, Ryan Allen, but I'll buy the clothes myself later.”

  “Mark Dawson, I really didn't expect you to change so much. Ryan Allen isn't your junior, by the way—he's in the computer science department, a second-year grad student, so he's actually our senior. Anyway, just tell me what you need help with. Maybe I can't help at all.” Cathy Lane rolled her eyes at Jack Dawson in exasperation.

  She had felt a bit sorry for Jack Dawson before, but after the ride to the hotel, she realized that Jack Dawson absolutely didn't need her sympathy, nor did he show any signs of depression.

  Jack Dawson didn't mind at all and continued, “Cathy Lane, from now on, I'm changing my name to Jack Dawson. Mark Dawson represents my past and my previous life. Jack Dawson is who I am now—a new beginning.”

  “All right, Jack Dawson, what exactly do you want me to help you with?” Cathy Lane sighed helplessly. Past lives and present lives? In her view, if you don't work hard, nothing will ever change.