Studying at Western University starts with a knife-forging competition

Chapter 98

Lin Yuan leaned back on the sofa and looked at Matt.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Lin Yuan asked.

"Because this is no longer just about me," Matt said. "She's eyeing your craft. She's not seeing how much money a girl who's been with Matt can make from this, but how much long-term profit Lin Yuan's forging brand can bring her."

If I continue to cover things up and keep these things to myself, you'll lack information when making your judgment.

Lin Yuan remained silent.

"Before I asked her out today, I was thinking I could handle it myself," Matt continued. "I felt like I could manage things between us. But what she said in the bar made me realize that she wasn't talking to me about personal matters."

Trademark registration, brand protection, and email security have nothing to do with whether or not we've slept together.

She was speaking to me using a complete business language. If I continue to approach her with the mindset of "solving a problem," I won't be able to handle it.

"So what are you planning to do?"

Matt removed his hands from his knees and sat up straight.

"I'll call my dad."

Lin Yuan looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded. "When are we going to fight?"

"Tonight. Now." Matt stood up, picked up his phone from the coffee table, "but before I call, I need to get things organized."

"What is it?"

"Evidence," Matt said. "All the records of our interactions. Emails, transfer records, chat screenshots. I kept them all on file. I need to compile them into a complete document so I can produce them if my dad asks on the phone."

Lin Yuan stood up from the sofa. "You tidy up, I'll go cook. Call me when you're done."

Matt nodded, took his phone, and went into his room. The door wasn't closed completely; it was left a crack.

Lin Yuan went into the kitchen and took out a few pieces of chicken breast and a bunch of broccoli from the refrigerator. He first took the chicken breast out of the refrigerator and put it on the cutting board to thaw, and then put a pot on the stove to boil water.

After the water boiled, he blanched the broccoli in it, then took it out and drained it. After thawing the chicken breast, he pounded it a couple of times with the back of a knife, cut it into evenly sized pieces, and marinated it with salt and black pepper.

The range hood in the kitchen wasn't too loud, just enough to drown out the noise in the hallway.

He heated a frying pan, poured in oil, and arranged the chicken breast pieces one by one into the pan. The sizzling sound of the meat hitting the hot oil filled the kitchen, and the aroma quickly spread.

He took the pan-fried chicken breast out of the pan, poured soy sauce, honey, and a little vinegar into the same pan, and simmered it over low heat to make a sauce. Then he put the chicken breast back in and tossed it a few times to coat each piece with the sauce. He arranged the broccoli around the edge of the plate and placed the chicken breast in the center.

When he came out of the kitchen carrying two plates, Matt's door was still open. He walked to the door and glanced inside.

Matt sat at his desk, his laptop open, several sheets of print paper spread out beside him. His phone propped up on the table, its screen displaying screenshots of transaction records. He was transferring the screenshots one by one from his phone to his computer, renaming them chronologically, and then dragging them into a folder.

"Dinner's ready," Lin Yuan said.

"Right away." Matt didn't even look up, his finger swiping across the touchpad. "There are still a few emails to finish filtering."

Lin Yuan placed the plate on the dining table and sat down to eat. He ate slowly, scrolling through the news on his phone as he ate. About ten minutes later, Matt came out of the room, carrying a USB drive and a stack of printing papers.

He placed the printed paper in front of Lin Yuan, and then put the USB drive next to it as well.

"It's all organized. All emails, transfer records, and chat screenshots. Arranged chronologically, from her first contact to the most recent one." Matt sat down opposite Lin Yuan, picked up his fork and started eating, but put it down after only a few bites. "There are forty-seven emails in total. Two transfer records, one for ten thousand and one for twelve thousand, both via bank wire transfer with transaction numbers. There are over eighty chat screenshots, taken from iMessage and Instagram private messages."

Lin Yuan picked up the printed paper and flipped through it. The first page was a table of contents, listing all the document numbers and summaries in chronological order. Starting from the second page were printed copies of the emails, each labeled with the sender, recipient, date, and subject.

He saw Catherine's email address, Matt's reply, and the wording in the emails—Catherine's emails were always polite, but there was an uncomfortable probing between the lines; Matt's replies went from initial panic to later cooperation, and then to the last two brief and indifferent ones.

The transfer record was printed on two pages.

The recipient's account name is Catherine M. Hall, the amount is $10,000, and the transfer date is two months ago.

The second payment, also to Catherine M. Hall, was $12,000, transferred a week after the first. Both transfers had "settlement" written in the remarks section.

The printout of the chat screenshot is a bit small, but the content is still legible.

In the earliest chat log, Catherine sent a long message, the gist of which was that she was in a bad mood recently, and Matt's behavior towards her at a party made her very upset, and she didn't know how to deal with it.

Matt replied that he hadn't done anything, to which Catherine responded, "You can certainly say that, but others may not think so."

.

Lin Yuan flipped to the last few pages of the printed paper and saw the chat history from the recent period.

Catherine's tone changed; it was no longer the implication that "you need to cooperate with me," but a more direct compliment: "Your roommate Lin Yuan's cooking skills are really amazing. You're so lucky to have such a partner."

Matt's reply was brief, consisting of only "Thank you."

He put the printed paper back on the table and looked at Matt.

"Is this enough?"

"I don't know." Matt picked up his fork, took another bite of chicken breast, chewed twice, and swallowed. "But it's better than nothing. My dad's been in private equity his whole life; he's seen all sorts of messy things. After he's seen it all, he'll make his own judgment."

"Shall we make the call now?"

Matt glanced at the time. It was 7:40 p.m. In Boston at that hour, his father should be in his study reviewing financial reports or just returning from the gym.

"Call now." Matt stood up, holding the stack of printouts and the USB drive. "Will you listen with me?"

Lin Yuan thought for a moment. "No. You type it yourself. Call me when you need me to speak."

Matt nodded, took his things, went into his room, and closed the door.

Lin Yuan sat at the dining table and continued eating the rice on his plate. He finished the last few pieces of chicken breast, wiped the sauce off the plate with bread, and then took both plates into the kitchen to wash.

As he was wiping his hands in the kitchen, he heard the dialing sound coming from Matt's room.