Howard bent down.

He braced himself on the edge of the table with one hand, leaning forward, creating a powerful yet subtly intimate encirclement.

As the distance suddenly closed, the lingering moisture on his body and the clean, crisp scent of soap instantly enveloped Mingzhao.

Warm breath, carrying the slightly moist scent of a post-shower bath, gently brushed against her sensitive earlobe, stirring a subtle, indescribable tingling sensation.

Mingzhao's pen suddenly stopped.

She subconsciously shrank her neck slightly, like a startled little animal.

It wasn't out of fear, but rather an instinctive reaction to this sudden, overly close, and unfamiliar presence.

She looked up, her clear eyes meeting Howard's gaze, which was so close to hers.

It no longer contained the coldness or businesslike calm that one usually displays when facing others, but rather something deep, scorching, and extremely aggressive, like a turbulent sea.

"Minglang asked me something today?"

Howard spoke, his voice deep and slightly hoarse, like sandpaper soaked in water, each syllable carrying a magnetic quality that honed the soul.

"He previously told you that he could divorce me."

His gaze was fixed on her, not missing a single subtle change in her face. "Why don't you want a divorce?"

His question was like a stone thrown into a deep pool, hitting precisely the calm surface of the lake that Mingzhao had been avoiding.

Her fingers tightened unconsciously around the pencil, her knuckles turning slightly white. The masculine scent so close, mixed with the clean yet powerful aroma of water vapor and soapberry, forcefully invaded her senses.

Beneath his open collar, the firm skin and the lines that rose and fell slightly with his breath created a silent, primal allure in the dim light.

Her heartbeat quickened uncontrollably in her chest, thumping against her ribs, so clear that it made her feel a little flustered.

Why are they unwilling to get a divorce?

This question lingered in her mind.

A contract for a sham marriage?

Is it convenient to seek refuge in this unfamiliar era?

Have I grown accustomed to having this silent yet surprisingly reliable man by my side?

Or... something else?

She tried to use her reason to analyze the momentary erratic heartbeat and breathing, as if analyzing a physics problem that urgently needed to be solved.

But my thoughts were like a jumbled mess, or shrouded in a hazy fog.

Those clear data flows and logical chains have all become blurry at this moment.

She could feel her cheeks rising uncontrollably, a strange, electric-like throbbing sensation spreading quietly along her spine.

What is this feeling...?

Physical malfunction? Physiological stress response?

She might need her own observation data and analysis reports!

Howard took in her momentary stiffness, the fleeting confusion in her eyes, and the faint blush that crept onto her cheeks.

He moved even closer, his nose almost touching her forehead.

His gaze lingered on her slightly parted lips, as if examining a lost treasure that had been found again, with an undeniable possessiveness and an almost greedy curiosity.

"Um?"

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he let out a lower, nasal sound that sounded urgent.

The scorching breath brushed against her forehead, carrying an unavoidable force that compelled her to give an answer.

The air seemed to stretch, and an ambiguous undercurrent surged silently between the two.

Mingzhao took a deep breath, like a fish out of oxygen.

She suddenly stood up, her movement so quick that she knocked over the chair behind her with a loud thud that was particularly jarring in the quiet night.

The sound of the chair falling to the ground was like a thunderclap, splitting open the thick, ambiguous atmosphere that was suffocating and made my heart race.

She didn't even glance at Howard's instantly darkened expression, nor did she bother to pick up her chair; she practically fled.

She rushed into the storage room next door, which served as her temporary laboratory, and slammed the door shut with such force that the door frame shook.

The cramped storage room was cluttered with miscellaneous items, with only a low-wattage incandescent light hanging overhead, casting a stark white light.

Mingzhao leaned against the cold door, breathing heavily, one hand pressed hard against her violently heaving chest, as if trying to stop her heart from leaping out of her throat.

The heat on her cheeks hadn't subsided, and the tingling sensation from his breath still lingered on her earlobes.

No, this is too abnormal.

This was completely beyond her baseline understanding of her own physiological responses.

She forced herself to calm down and walked to the old wooden table in the corner that served as an experimental table.

Several complex circuit diagrams were spread out on the table, and next to them were some rudimentary instruments that she had pieced together and modified from scrap parts.

A multimeter with its casing removed and fitted with homemade probes and knobs, a signal generator assembled from discarded vacuum tubes and coils, and several crookedly soldered circuit boards.

Mingzhao took a deep breath, grabbed the multimeter somewhat hastily, and quickly attached the two homemade probes with metal tips to the pulse points on his left and right wrists.

She turned the knob, and the rudimentary dial of the multimeter began to swing violently from side to side.

She then picked up a small oscilloscope probe connected to a homemade lead wire.

That was a core component she had salvaged from a wrecked medical device, and she was now carefully placing it on her chest.

On the small, round screen of the oscilloscope, covered with green phosphor, the waveform representing the heartbeat suddenly became high and steep, with an astonishingly fast frequency.

She frowned, her eyes sharp as a scalpel, staring intently at the jumping pointers and flashing waveforms, her fingers flying across the open hardcover notebook beside her, the pen tip almost tearing the paper.

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