Chapter 302: Chapter 302: Xavier Quincy’s Secret
Landon Joyce, a renowned astronomer and scientist from Veridia.
He is also the curator of the Westcroft Planetarium.
Additionally, he is the first person to publish a paper on "parallel space theory".
"Is it her?" Landon Joyce stepped out of the shadows, revealing an aged face.
That face was riddled with scars from burns, looking quite intimidating.
His face was ruined in an experiment.
At the time, he was awarded a national-level prize by Veridia for this incident.
Under Landon Joyce’s cold gaze, Leo had no choice but to nod: "Yes."
Landon Joyce showed a slight smile, which looked more terrifying than not smiling.
"Come to my office, I have something to say to you."
Leo silently followed behind Landon Joyce.
Once inside the office, Leo finally spoke: "What do you want to say?"
Landon Joyce sat in the chair behind his desk, scrutinizing Leo.
"You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?"
Leo paused for a second before understanding what Landon Joyce meant.
He was asking about the matter of bringing back the documents.
Before Leo could speak, Landon Joyce laughed.
"What a question for me to ask, if you were hurt, I’d know about it first thing."
Leo remained noncommittal.
Landon Joyce quickly stopped smiling and said, "I’ve already reported the situation to higher-ups. The military using you as a transport tool without informing us in advance is over the line!"
"Their military personnel act for Veridia, but aren’t we researchers working for Veridia too?"
"In this era, scientific and technological progress is crucial, not bare-handed fighting. We are much more important than they are!"
Landon Joyce was filled with righteous indignation but soon calmed down.
"The higher-ups should soon have them apologize to you. If you want any compensation, you can tell me, and I’ll pass it on."
Leo said without much expression, "I don’t need any compensation from the top, but I have a request that I hope you can agree to."
"Me?"
"Yes."
"Go ahead and say it."
"I hope... no matter what happens in the future, please promise me that you won’t harm her in the slightest."
Landon Joyce laughed again.
"What kind of person do you take me for? While I do prioritize research, I’m not so depraved as to treat her like a lab rat."
Hearing the word "lab rat," Leo clenched his fists a bit tighter.
"So does that mean you agree?"
Landon Joyce raised an eyebrow: "Of course, even if I wanted to, society wouldn’t allow it. It’s against human ethics."
Leo sighed softly in relief.
But then he heard Landon Joyce ask, "So, are you sure she’s not her anymore?"
Leo’s expression froze.
He had been led into a trap.
Leo took a deep breath and, trying to remain calm, said, "I can’t be 100% sure right now."
Landon Joyce nodded gently: "True, after all, you’ve just returned. Even if she is still her, some changes after such a long absence are normal. Keep observing, and once you’re sure, report to me immediately."
"Yes."
Landon Joyce gave him a deep look and said, "Leo, don’t let me down, okay? If you do, I’ll have to find someone else for this research."
Leo’s expression changed, and he quickly said, "Don’t worry, I’ll confirm as soon as possible and get back to you."
Landon Joyce showed a satisfied expression and gestured for him to come over.
"Come here."
Leo stepped forward to Landon Joyce’s desk.
Landon Joyce opened a drawer and took out something resembling a bank card.
Leo took it and saw it was a VIP card for "The Nocturne" in Westcroft.
"The Nocturne" is a top dinner restaurant, serving only dinners with great privacy, and each reservation includes a private courtyard.
It’s not just about money to get into "The Nocturne"; one also needs power.
Even ordinary "power" isn’t enough to qualify for entry.
"The Nocturne" has only emerged in the past couple of years, unknown to ordinary people but a symbol of status for the upper circles.
So even though a meal there costs a fortune, countless people are eager to get in.
Landon Joyce’s voice sounded.
"I unintentionally overheard your call earlier. Are you having dinner with her tonight?"
"Yes."
"When inviting a young lady to dinner, it’s better to pick a high-end place. I received this card recently, you can use it."
Leo glanced at the VIP card, feeling a sense of self-mockery.
There was a time when his Quincy Family could enter this place at will, and now he had to rely on Landon Joyce’s card.
"Thank you, professor."
"No need for formalities between us."
"Then I..."
Just as Leo was about to leave, Landon Joyce spoke again: "I heard Jason’s daughter Anna came to Veridia with you?"
Leo’s expression remained unchanged, "I’ve already had someone send her back."
Landon Joyce laughed heartily, stood up, and patted him on the shoulder.
"It’s your personal matter, but I’ll still give you a piece of advice: Jason is not someone easy to deal with. If you truly don’t like her, it’s best to properly end it to avoid Jason thinking you became his most trusted student by taking advantage of his daughter."
Leo’s eyes flickered slightly, and he nodded: "Yes, I understand."
Leaving the planetarium, Leo felt a wave of frustration in his chest.
Landon Joyce’s words lingered in his mind.
"If you truly don’t like her..."
Did he like Anna?
Maybe there was a momentary flutter of his heart.
Because Anna’s silhouette has a slight resemblance to Ashley.
But it was just a fleeting moment.
Leo put the card into his wallet and took out his phone to edit a message for Ashley.
After getting into the car, Leo glanced at the gift box on the passenger seat.
It was a welcome gift from Ashley the day before, one he hadn’t had the chance to open yet.
Leo reached for the gift box on the passenger seat and began to unwrap it seriously.
A Burberry handkerchief came into view.
His slender fingers brushed across the handkerchief’s surface.
Suddenly, he felt an unevenness.
He unfolded the handkerchief to find three hand-stitched letters in the lower right corner.
"QXY."
The initials of his name.
Leo’s lips curled into a gentle smile.
An ordinary handkerchief became unique because of those crooked letters.
He carefully put the handkerchief away in his jacket pocket.
Meanwhile, at Westcroft Central Hospital.
Ashley Shaw finally heard her name called at the window.
"Number 289, Ashley Shaw."
She quickly walked in, pushing past those waiting at the window, handing over her slip.
"Name."
"Ashley Shaw."
"Birthday."
"July 15th."
The nurse couldn’t help but glance up at her.
Because July 15th, coinciding with Westcroft’s Ghost Festival, wasn’t seen as an auspicious date.