The voice was so clear and real that Lance couldn't convince himself it was a mistake. When he heard the name 'Harvey', a flood of buried memories rushed into his mind, overwhelming him. It felt like his head had been hit with a hammer, the sensation shaking his entire body. Lance stood frozen, unable to turn around. The name 'Harvey' brought back painful memories, ones that shattered the younger Lance long ago. "Harvey—" The voice grew closer, pulling Lance out of his haze. Cold sweat started to form on his forehead as his mind went blank. Just when he thought he couldn't take it any longer, a hand landed on his shoulder. "Harvey! What are you doing here?" The voice rang in his ears.At first, Lance was taken aback, then he turned to look at the hand on his shoulder, more confused than ever. Was this person calling him? Slowly, he turned his head, eyes meeting a familiar yet strange face. The man had short, soft hair and wore a black hoodie and light blue jeans, giving him a youthful look. "Who are you?" Lance asked, frowning slightly. As soon as Lance turned, the man's expression shifted to one of disbelief, his excitement obvious. "It's really you! I thought I was mistaken!" He looked Lance up and down as if seeing something incredible. The look of surprise never left his face. Lance felt a bit uncomfortable under the man's gaze, his body stiffening. But the man didn't seem to notice, too caught up in his joy at seeing 'Harvey'. "Harvey, where have you been? You haven't contacted any of us. We've all been worried sick!"The man's eyes stayed glued to Lance as he spoke, his focus never wavering. After a moment, the man smiled broadly, looking up at Lance. Their eyes met, and the man's smile faltered when he noticed Lance's displeasure. Why did Harvey become so unfamiliar? "Who are you?" Lance repeated, his voice colder this time. The man blinked in confusion, then seemed to realize something. He laughed and clapped his hands. "Haha, Harvey, you don't recognize me yet? You've picked up jokes after all these years!" The man casually threw his arm around Lance's shoulder. "Your jokes aren't hitting the mark. "You may not remember others, but you can't forget me!" he said, clearly not believing that 'Harvey' could have forgotten him. Lance subtly stepped back, putting some distance between them. His face remained neutral, but if others looked closely, they'd see the anger flickering in his eyes. Lance instantly understood the situation. This man was an old friend of his brother's, but he had mistaken him for Harvey. The name Harvey stirred something deep inside Lance. He wasn't Harvey. He had his name. He wasn't the person everyone called 'the second son who resembled Harvey', nor did he like being referred to as 'Harvey's brother'. He couldn't stand being called Harvey, especially when people first met him, nor did he appreciate being complimented for looking like his brother. He was himself, not a stand-in for Harvey. Lance's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as his cold, serious expression radiated danger, his fists clenched by his side. But ever since Harvey's passing, the voices he despised had disappeared. For the first time, there was a sense of freedom, a relief that no one else could understand. Yet now, that old pressure was back, and it overwhelmed him, suffocating him."You've got the wrong person," Lance spoke with icy detachment, walking past the man without any sign of emotion. "Hey—" The man tried to stop him, but Lance didn't look back, his pace quickening, his body emitting an air of hostility. The man scratched his head, feeling puzzled. Did I get the wrong person? Isn't that Harvey? But as he thought more about it, the man still felt sure it was Harvey. How could he be mistaken? He rested his head in his hand, eyes locked on Lance as he tried to figure it out. Did I say something wrong and offend Harvey? So he pretends not to recognize me on purpose? ... Lance stormed into the private room Addison had booked, his presence intense and fierce. The door slammed open, banging against the wall. Addison was sitting at the table, deeply focused on an article in a journal, especially intrigued by a new leukemia treatment method it described.The innovative approach excited her, and she quickly became absorbed in the article. Without warning, a voice suddenly burst into her ear, startling her. Reflexively, she looked up and saw Lance standing there, looking like he'd just come out of a storm, radiating a cold, chilling aura. His eyes were narrowed, giving him a sharp, almost ominous look. Addison raised her eyebrows, unfazed by his appearance. He was late, and it was clear he was angry. Who could have upset him? She briefly glanced at him, said nothing, and went back to her reading. Lance silently took a seat, his eyes fixed on Addison as she continued reading. His expression grew darker, and it seemed like she hadn't even noticed him walk in. She remained absorbed in her book, completely ignoring him. Addison read on, not reacting to his mood, and only paused to breathe deeply when she finished the article. Lance's eyes bore into her as if trying to understand her. When she finally closed the book, he clenched his teeth, ready to speak, but just as he was about to snap, the waiter entered and interrupted him. "Excuse me, miss. I noticed a gentleman had arrived. Are you ready to order now?" "Yes, we're ready," Addison replied, nodding slightly. The waiter handed her the menu. Without glancing at it, Addison reached over and offered it to Lance. "Do you want to order?" Lance's face was cold and unreadable, and he hesitated, forcing himself to hold back what he wanted to say. Addison held the menu up, waiting for a response. When she couldn't hold it any longer, Lance finally managed to mutter, "You know what I like. You order it." She gave him a brief look, then took the menu back without saying anything further and began to place the order. The first few dishes were exactly what Lance usually enjoyed, familiar and in line with his tastes. But then, she started ordering dishes he rarely ate. At first, he didn't think much of it, assuming they were dishes Addison liked. After all, during their three years of marriage, she had always catered to his preferences. Anything he liked appeared on their table, which was why he had no idea what she liked. But as the orders continued, Lance's expression grew more serious. The earlier mix-up with Harvey brought old memories rushing back. It was because of that incident that he immediately realized the dishes Addison was ordering were the same ones that Harvey had always enjoyed.