"The Medical Community"—which was the actual name of the sprawling apricot grove situated right below Jenson Hall at National Medical University—covered a massive area. It wasn't just secluded; it was terrifying.
To the students of National Medical University, that place was a genuine nightmare. The graduate students walked on eggshells every time they went there, terrified that if they messed up an experiment, Milo Sinclair would scold... no, constructively criticize them. Even though every student who endured his criticism eventually produced excellent research findings, Milo was still incredibly intimidating.
Ariana Thorne had already felt this creeping dread the moment she arrived at Jenson Hall. Now that he wanted her to practice her cello in The Medical Community, Shea Thorne couldn't help but doubt his intentions.
"What do you think? The Medical Community is huge, and students generally don't linger there. As long as you avoid the rush hours between classes, no one will bother you," Milo said.
No one? He clearly didn't know that someone had been live-streaming in The Medical Community just the other night. What kind of massive misunderstanding did Milo have about the students in Jenson Hall?
"You know, acting like this really breaks your character," Shea told him bluntly. Whatever happened to the rumored "Living Devil"? Right now, he was just a terribly handsome older man trying to lure a young girl into doing things inappropriate for children. The worst part was that he didn't even look sleazy doing it. How infuriating was that?
"Character? What kind of character am I supposed to have?" Milo didn't catch on at first. A moment later, understanding dawned on him. He put on a stern face, instantly channeling the aura of a strict dean of students. "Go home and write a forty-thousand-word essay on your dating experience today! If you dare to slack off, beware of failing your romance credits!"
By the end of his sentence, even he couldn't hold back a laugh.
It was a funny bit. Shea nodded. To think he actually understood the concept of an online persona—it seemed their generation gap wasn't that massive after all.
"It seems you have a pretty huge misunderstanding about me. I'm just older than you; I'm not an ancient artifact." Seeing right through Shea's thoughts, Milo added, "I know how to use a computer and a smartphone. I browse the internet when I have free time. I'm not living under a rock in the feudal era. I don't have a persona, either. Being strict and meticulous is my responsibility to my students, but that doesn't mean I have to go through life with a long face, putting on airs."
Milo paused to think for a second. "Wait, not 'putting on airs.' Nowadays, you kids call it 'flexing.'"
With those words, the "Living Devil" illusion from his campus profile completely shattered in Shea's eyes. He was actually quite humorous and highly skilled at coaxing a girl. He knew exactly what girls wanted to hear and knew how to lower his posture to close the distance between them.
However, the university gates acted as an invisible wall. Even if they were only a year apart in age, as long as one person was still a student inside those gates, it subconsciously created a massive divide. It always felt like they were from two completely different worlds.
If Shea hadn't already experienced the real world herself, knowing full well that a working professional was much more suitable for her than a college boy, Milo would have been instantly disqualified. For someone like Ariana—a stay-at-home housewife abandoned by society—Milo would have completely failed to meet her expectations, eliminated at first glance. Perhaps that was exactly why Ariana resisted change so fiercely. It was why she clung desperately to Miles Crawford, refusing to embrace new people or a new life.
But the truth was, once she actually interacted with men like Milo, she realized they were willing to make plenty of compromises to win a girl over.
"So? What do you say to my proposal?" Milo asked.
They stood up and began walking back. Milo strolled beside her as they passed numerous students carrying musical instruments. This kind of carefree campus life made Shea feel a pang of envy. She used to be just like them. In her pursuit of musical perfection, she had constantly shuttled between practice rooms and competition stages. But now, even though she had been reborn, she was trapped by Ariana's lingering presence.
She could feel that Ariana envied them too. Yet, Ariana's true underlying desire was to practice her instrument in The Medical Community at National Medical University so she could be closer to Miles. Ariana harbored the naive hope that Miles might finally notice her good qualities.
As the submissive urge to wash clothes and cook for Miles flared up in her heart again, Shea vigorously shook her head and rejected the offer. "No thanks. I'm afraid that if I ever anger Professor Sinclair, I'll be scolded until I'm left sitting under an apricot tree crying."
His glorious track record of terrifying students was no secret at National Medical University. It was practically legendary among the freshmen. But even with that reputation, people still flocked to him. Female students threw themselves at him wave after wave, all for the sake of his handsome face.
Shea remembered seeing a highly-priced bounty for photos of his abs on the F University forums. The payout was quite lucrative. Since he was still acting so attentive these past few days, maybe she should trick him into going to a hotel, snap a few covert pictures when he wasn't paying attention, and make some quick pocket money?
"Don't worry. I am exceptionally gentle with anyone who isn't my student—especially you," he promised.
As the two of them walked along, Shea suddenly craved the pork floss rice balls she used to eat around here. She went out of her way to check the old stall and was pleasantly surprised to find they were still selling them.
To her surprise, Milo told Shea to sit on a nearby bench and rest while he volunteered to wait in line. Honestly, it completely defied her expectations. He looked exactly like the type of man who expected his girlfriend to wait on him hand and foot, rather than the type to bend over backward to court a girl.
Then again, maybe this was just his scheme. Play the humble suitor first, win her over, and then flip the script to make her serve him. The more Shea thought about it, the more her mind spiraled, even dragging up memories of the cold violence Miles had subjected her to in past lifetimes. Her mood soured instantly, and she lost her appetite.
When Milo returned with the pork floss rice ball, he noticed Shea's low spirits. He wisely chose not to pry. Once they were back in his car, Shea tossed the rice ball aside and leaned back in her seat without saying a word.
Milo took out his phone and handed it to her. "For the sake of the rice ball, and to save me from having to wait for you at the instrument shop next time, give me a little hint, hmm?"
He waved the unlocked black smartphone in front of her face, gesturing for her to punch in her phone number.
This... Shea didn't even know her own phone number. Her life had been such a whirlwind of chaos lately that she hadn't had a single second to care about trivial details like phone numbers. But she couldn't let that show. Shea took the phone from him and deliberately swiped back and forth across the home screen a couple of times.
"Just handing this over to me? Aren't you afraid I'll dig up some dark secrets?" she asked.
The car started and rolled slowly down the road. The National Conservatory of Music had been built so long ago that the city's subsequent expansion had completely boxed it into the downtown district. Since it was the peak hour for school dismissals, the streets were swarming with students and pedestrians, making the traffic jam rather severe.
"What counts as a secret to you?" Milo knew exactly what she was insinuating but played along. "A wife's phone number? Or photos of an ex-girlfriend?"
"Or perhaps a fiancée's shopping list? It could also be precious family photos of the child left behind by your ex-wife." Following his lead, Shea smiled and said, "A man of Professor Sinclair's age is out here trying to trick a twenty-something female college student like me. I have every reason to suspect that you're fooling around behind the back of the woman waiting for you at home. That's not an unreasonable assumption, is it?"
With that, she set Milo's phone down, unlocked her own, and started reading aloud a scandalous news headline. "'Female college student defrauded of her money and virtue by a professor. She got pregnant and had an abortion for the sake of true love, only to be cornered at the school gates by his legal wife, who stripped her naked and beat her in public. The professor, meanwhile, firmly insisted that the shameless female student was the one who seduced him.'"
Milo actually laughed out loud at the sensational story. It sounded like a direct parallel to him and Shea. This young girl's wild imagination was truly entertaining. What a little cutie. He really hadn't chosen the wrong girl.
He picked up his phone, unlocked it again, and handed it back to Shea. "Open the photo gallery and count down from the top. Play the twelfth video and see for yourself."
Shea wasn't intimidated in the slightest. She opened the gallery and played the video he mentioned. There was no audio—just footage of a small maroon booklet being flipped open page by page. There were four pages in total. Milo's name appeared on the third page, and the name on the final page looked very similar to his: Silas Sinclair.
It was his family register!
Shea stared up in sheer disbelief at Milo, who was calmly driving. "You just keep this kind of thing on your phone?! How many clueless young girls have you tricked with this?"
Milo chuckled. "Do I really need to rely on this to trick clueless young girls?!"
Fair point. With his looks and physique, he could easily debut as the male lead in a drama. Clueless young girls would willingly follow him without him needing to trick them at all.
Shea fell silent. Her finger swiped back to the main gallery, and she noticed that the list of media consisted almost entirely of photos and videos of documents. They were likely reference materials for work. There were no personal lifestyle photos, no pictures of female celebrities, and absolutely no 2D anime girls.
His phone was incredibly clean. It had a sleek matte finish and didn't even have a case. The installed apps were all standard utility tools—there wasn't a single game or entertainment app in sight. Just looking at the interface, if it weren't for the document photos in the gallery dating back two years, this device could easily pass for a brand-new phone straight off the factory floor.
If Milo hadn't done this intentionally, then he'd definitely done it on purpose.