In a certain mont, the scene from six years ago seed to reset before my eyes.
The sa chanical table, the sa bustling scene.
The images pushed forward one by one.
On a winter day six years ago, eighteen-year-old Nora Scott, dressed in a thin sweatshirt, wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses on, the mask’s strings hanging on one ear, her long hair cascading down her back.
Graceful and poised, with an eye-catching aura.
Even though the sunglasses covered most of her face, just the delicate nose, thin lips, fair skin, and the beautifully contoured profile could tell you she was stunning.
Such a beauty, yet she leaned against the exhibition stand eating an ice-lolly.
The people who occasionally stopped in front of the stand were all drawn to her. So were teasing, so flirting, which made her extrely impatient, every movent filled with a fiery temper, and with just a few words, she drove the visitors away from the stand, leaving no one daring to stay.
Among so many tourists, Pedro Langley was the only one drawn by her unique wooden exhibition stand.
"Hey, want to see sothing novel?"
With a light tap on the table surface, the beauty, with an ice-lolly stick in her mouth, pressed the center of her sunglasses down with a bent finger as she asked.
Under the sunglasses, her long and beautiful eyes sparkled with a smile, shallow yet bright, like hiding stars, dazzling and striking.
Just one glance, captivating and soul-stealing.
At the first encounter, it seed so ordinary, yet upon careful recollection, every second was thrilling, enticing one step forward, and only upon a sudden realization did they know there was no turning back.
...
"Senior, this was restored according to the blueprints you left back then. Of course, our hands-on skills aren’t as strong as yours, so we made so modifications."
Montague enthusiastically invited Nora Scott for a tour.
A few bewildered juniors were squeezed to the side, staring at Nora Scott in a daze.
Beautiful, so beautiful...
The "school belle" that senior ntioned was indeed deserving, without a bit of exaggeration.
Pedro Langley’s gaze lingered on Nora Scott.
She leaned casually to the side, lowering her eyes to examine the construction of the chanical table. When listening to Montague’s explanation, she seed absent-minded, not sure how much she heard, yet the corners of her lips curled into a subtle arc.
Her fingers lightly hooked around the fra of her glasses, and as her fingertips tapped gently, the sunglasses swayed with her movents.
Her presence, at any mont, moving or still, was always pleasing to the eye.
"Didn’t you try to persuade her at the ti? Just took a leave from school, processed the leave procedures faster than the admission ones."
Professor Duncan, who had arrived unnoticed, drew a bit of Pedro Langley’s attention away.
The tone was both complaining and regretful.
Persuade...
He didn’t know about it at all back then.
But when he was about to speak, it was—
"You know her temperant."
"She was not yet nineteen at the ti, just a few months into adulthood?! Think about it, just a child, how can one have so many ideas?"
Professor Duncan was a bit agitated, blowing his beard and glaring, and only cald down after a mont, asking, "Do you know why she took a leave from school?"
Squinting his eyes, Pedro Langley asked without a flicker of emotion, "She didn’t tell you?"
"I looked for her, she said it was aningless, just wasting ti here. Too bold, just left as she pleased."
When ntioning this, Professor Duncan got angry, yet couldn’t help but feel a sense of pity.
"This child is such a pity. Fast learner, strong in hands-on skills, full of ideas, nearly perfect scores across all subjects, draws better than professional teachers, painting skills comparable to those art students. I was even boasting to others back then, this lass is absolutely a genius..."
With a shift in the conversation, Professor Duncan clapped his hands with a sigh and said, "Such a pity, she’s quite the ’old relic,’ only loves researching those ancient chanical techniques. Tell , how can modern machinery even compare to those outdated chanisms?"
Modern chanical engineering can be considered derived from ancient chanisms, but with modern technology, they have wider applications and greater convenience.
Such as industrial robots, microelectrochanical systems, and intelligent device research, these advanced technological products.
But Nora Scott was not interested in any of this.
Six years ago, she showcased a chanical table filled with hidden mysteries at an exhibition of many modern advanced technological products. Ordinary in appearance, yet inside it cleverly hid nurous secret compartnts and various unexpected operations; with just a clever chanism design, it could open up a new world, refreshing to the eyes.
Modern technology certainly can achieve that.
But her design was more exquisite, requiring no reliance on what she deed unreliable electricity and equipnt.
Faced with the indignant Professor Duncan, Pedro Langley did not argue with him, simply said, "To each their own."
"Her aspirations are too old-fashioned! Delving into this stuff, what’s her plan, to beco a tomb raider?!"
"She could also design magic props."
"..."
Professor Duncan was at a loss for words.
After half a beat, he waved his hand and said, "Forget it, you two are like-minded, I can’t win against you."
Pedro Langley curled his lips into a smile.
In the past, he might have spoken about Nora Scott...
But now, all he could do was let her be.
*
Anger is anger, complaints are complaints.
Seeing Nora Scott again, Professor Duncan was still happy. Clearly busy to no end, yet still took ti to tour with Nora Scott and Pedro Langley, introducing them to the new generation of machines.
Nora Scott wasn’t interested, but Pedro Langley found it quite engaging.
Occasionally, when she found it tedious, Nora Scott would glance at Pedro Langley a few tis.
The doubt in her heart grew—
Pedro Langley was clearly interested in technology, so why dive into the entertainnt industry?
For money?
That’s not right either, with his comrcial ability, he could thrive in any industry.
"What are you spacing out for?"
A sudden voice near her ear made Nora Scott’s eyelids twitch.
She turned her head to see Pedro Langley standing beside her, slightly inclined. Her gaze slid past his eyebrows and eyes, his eye sockets sowhat deep, nose bridge high and straight, thin lips lightly pressed, and his features familiar yet sowhat blurry.
Finally, her gaze settled on his left brow bone, at first glance it wasn’t obvious, but with a closer look, there was a shallow scar at the edge of the brow, an almost invisible break...
Her thoughts wavered, and Nora Scott stopped certain mories from surging up, bringing her mind back.
Professor Duncan, having t an acquaintance, was chatting. Her gaze swept around, flickering far and near, a little unfocused.
"I heard you’re now the boss of Fernwood Entertainnt?" Nora Scott spoke calmly, throwing out the topic, shifting the focus.
"Yes."
Pedro Langley seed a bit puzzled, standing upright.
Yet his gaze still lingered on her.
"Don’t you like high technology?" Nora Scott asked, eting his gaze.
"No conflict," Pedro Langley lowered his voice and said faintly, "I have connections with both."
"Oh."
Nora Scott didn’t know what to say.
His reason... sounded sowhat perfunctory.
Without seeing any change in her emotions, Pedro Langley cast his gaze into the distance, one hand in his pocket, seeming to ask casually, "Professor Duncan just asked , why did you take a leave from school?"
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