Setting aside all those random thoughts—like Morrison's tendency to drift off now and then—the two actually had a pretty pleasant meal.
Lilian had some decent taste when it came to food, so everything she ordered was delicious. Morrison thought it was quite good too.
Unlike Dave, Morrison wasn't picky about food. Dave's pickiness came from being spoiled by Laurent's cooking skills, plus he didn't have a woman at home to take care of his meals. During the weekdays, Dave usually ate out, and on weekends he'd visit the Mo family, where Linda never cooked herself—always the household chef did the work.
Linda and Mr. Mo were both busy when Morrison and his younger brother Karl were little. Linda was a woman devoted to supporting her husband's career, so she didn't focus much on the home. Most of the time, their meals were prepared by the family chef. Because of all this, Morrison learned to be self-reliant at an early age—cooking was just something he had to master growing up.
Sometimes, when the chef was unavailable and the parents weren't home, he and Karl couldn't just starve. Karl was several years younger, so it was always Morrison who took care of things.
In fact, he learned to shoulder family responsibilities very early on. His father wasn't cut out for managing the business, and his mother had to stand by her husband, leaving her little time for home life.
Maybe his parents saw that sense of responsibility in him, so they trusted him with looking after Karl and handling the household affairs.
That's why, when he came of age and took over MOS Corp., it felt natural—like he had been training for it his whole life.
Many people thought Morrison was carefree and reckless, living life on his own terms. But they didn't realize he used that carefree image to hide the heavy burdens he carried.
After dinner, the young lady propped her chin on her hands and looked at him expectantly.
"The dinner tonight was pretty good, wasn't it?"
Every dish was carefully picked by her—like a love letter to her years of college cafeteria experiences.
If only her thesis was written with as much care as she put into picking these dishes.
Morrison didn't hold back his approval.
"It really was."
The food was good, but the best thing was her smile right now—because when the girl heard his approval, her eyes curved up with a bright, happy grin.
Lilian felt pretty good too. Sure, she'd been a bit annoyed earlier when he kissed her by the lake, but she'd already forgotten all about it. What really made her happy today was that she finally got to share a meal at the school cafeteria with her so-called boyfriend. After all, four years of college hadn't been wasted—at the very end, she found a guy to keep her company.
Honestly, she'd imagined doing all those typical couple things at university—like studying together, or him riding a bike with her happily on the back, cruising around campus...
But then she thought better of it. It was just too risky. If those things got back to her brother or her family, she'd be done for.
Besides, with Angela in her dorm—such a character—she didn't want any unnecessary drama.
Just eating together in the cafeteria was enough for her.
On that note, her impression of him improved a little. After all, he was such a successful guy, yet he was willing to humble himself and eat at the school's simple cafeteria.
Though he said it was impossible to say no to a girlfriend's invitation, she knew those were sweet words. Still, she had to admit—sweet words really did sound nice.
But since she knew he was that kind of playboy with top-notch skills at charming women, she'd built up immunity to his sweet talk. She enjoyed hearing it but never took it seriously.
Because he wouldn't really care about her, right?
The ultimate playboy's downfall wouldn't be a girl like her. As her brother Dave put it: "a silly innocent sweetheart."
Though, technically, he only said "silly." The "innocent" and "sweet" parts were her own additions.
More precisely, she and Laurent came up with those words together. Back when her brother and Laurent were still married, they would often exchange sarcastic remarks about her—never outright insults, but indirect jabs. Basically, the same meaning: calling her silly.
So she and Laurent cheekily gave themselves the label "silly innocent sweetheart" — the trendy phrase for girls like them.
But she thought that label suited her perfectly—sure, she was silly, but she was also innocent, and her looks could definitely be called sweet.
Morrison watched her smiling, her eyes curved like crescent moons, and he couldn't help but smile back.
"So happy?" he asked.
Lilian nodded firmly.
"Of course."
Morrison glanced at her again—she really was an easy girl to please.
A simple pair of earrings made her happy, and a humble meal brought that bright smile to her face.
Heh.
Living simply had its perks, just like living complicated and heavy had its own unavoidable burdens.
To her, he was the simplest presence in her life; but to him, she was probably the most complicated.
Quite extreme.
He didn't understand why two people from completely different worlds and paths had ended up tangled together like this.
After paying the bill, they left the private room and started heading down the stairs to the first floor. Without thinking, Morrison reached out and took her hand.
Lilian had been about to let it happen, but when she looked up, she saw Angela walking upstairs with a few others.
Quickly, she pulled her hand away and whispered to him,
"I ran into one of my classmates. Let's keep some distance, okay? She's trouble."
She quickly explained that to Morrison, then pulled away from him just as Angela and her group reached the second floor.
Focused on avoiding Angela, Lilian didn't notice Morrison's eyes narrow dangerously when she said that her classmate was trouble. If even a girl like Lilian called someone "bad," he wanted to see just how bad this person really was.
Angela climbed the stairs and spotted Lilian right away. She sneered coldly.
"Well, well, if it isn't Miss Washington."
The acidic tone in her voice dripped like venom. Morrison, standing just behind Lilian, barely concealed a frown.
He took a quick mental note of Angela—this woman was ugly, all sharpness and bitterness in her features, completely lacking any grace.
Actually, Angela wasn't really ugly. In fact, she was quite the beauty at D University, known as one of the campus's top "flower" girls. That's why she had so much pride and confidence in front of Lilian. Though Angela's family was ordinary, all her arrogance came from her looks alone.
But any man with true taste wouldn't care only about a woman's appearance. Outer beauty was important, sure—but inner quality was absolutely essential.
Angela's heart was dark as night, and to Morrison, she was nothing but an ugly existence inside and out.
Lilian glanced at Angela and returned a faint, polite smile, then prepared to walk away.
Angela wasn't about to let her go that easily. Noticing Morrison at Lilian's side, her eyes burned with awe—followed immediately by jealousy and envy. Then she unleashed a merciless taunt at Lilian:
"No wonder you looked so lovestruck in the dorm that night—so you finally have a man."
Angela's words were crude and uncalled for.
Morrison's anger flared instantly. This woman—her foul mouth might just need a good lesson. Maybe a few slaps to knock some sense into her, and let her wash that nasty tongue with her own blood. That'd probably clean it right up.
Morrison was the kind of man who never struck first but retaliated without mercy if crossed. Behind his ever-smiling facade was a ruthless, sharp edge—he was colder and deadlier than anyone when it came to protecting his interests.
For a petty troublemaker like Angela, in his style, she'd have lost all her teeth by now, bleeding all over the place.
Lilian never responded to Angela's provocations, which only gave Angela the false impression that the Burg Eltz heiress was a coward.
So Angela looked down on Lilian and constantly mocked her without restraint.
But Lilian wasn't really a coward—she was simply too tired and uninterested to deal with a troll like Angela. She thought Angela was just too bored in life—only someone with too much free time would spend it nitpicking and trash-talking others.
Lilian, on the other hand, was busy—busy attending classes, studying, writing papers, going home for naps, eating, spending time with her parents, and even helping her brother Laurent plan their big comeback.
Everyone had a limit. If Angela ever truly crossed her, Lilian's anger would be far worse than Angela could handle.
After Angela finished her usual round of biting remarks, she smugly looked at Lilian's pursed lips and silence.
But her triumph didn't last long—because right beside Lilian, Morrison's cold, piercing glare sent a chill down her spine.
He hadn't even said a word. Just his eyes alone were enough to make her shiver.
Angela tried to act casual and meet his gaze, but the growing, deadly coldness in his eyes made her quickly look away, terrified.