Ryan glanced at the girl with glasses but remained silent. He agreed with the suggestion, but when his turn came to write a question, he deliberately chose something simple. He didn't want Yvette to embarrass herself; he merely hoped she could answer at least one question to avoid appearing incompetent.

The petite Isabella Jarvis followed Ryan. After receiving her test paper, she purposely glanced at his question. “Isn’t this way too easy?” she thought. “His intention is quite obvious.” Seeing everyone occupied, she leaned over and whispered, “Ryan, this question is far too simple! Aren’t you afraid people will notice you’re giving her an easy question? You’ve made it so obvious. Do you like this girl, Yvette?”

Ryan, momentarily stunned, looked at Isabella with discomfort. This girl is obsessed with pairing people up, he thought. She even reads those cheesy romance novels while eating. Why do people like reading such brainless stuff? They’re obviously trying to deceive young girls. He looked seriously at the excited Isabella and said, “No, I don’t. I already like someone else.”

Isabella, taken aback, casually waved her hand. “Alright, alright, no need to be so serious. You don’t like her—fine.” Ryan sighed, saying nothing more.

Meanwhile, James was leading Yvette to the core lab. Halfway there, he glanced at her expressionless face. “Yvette, are you sure you’re okay with them coming up with random questions like that?” He didn’t doubt Yvette's abilities, but with such an open-ended challenge, a perfect score wasn't guaranteed.

Yvette’s lips curved slightly. Looking at James's uneasy expression, she said lightly, “No problem.” The two words instantly eased his worries. He had complete faith in her. Besides, even a few missed questions wouldn't diminish her impressive performance.

The National Physics Lab's core lab held only five people, averaging over thirty years of age. Three were conducting experiments, leaving only two in the lab, intensely debating something, their faces flushed, neither willing to concede. It appeared they were on the verge of a physical altercation.

James coughed, causing them to turn. “Mr. Owens!” “Mr. Owens, you’re here.” These were Jay Maxwell and Marcus Decker, James's colleagues on the renewable energy project.

Raising an eyebrow, James asked, “What are you two arguing about now?”

Jay and Marcus, sharing a department and dorm room at Betrico University, were bickering buddies, both highly intelligent, and, at 35, single and romantically inexperienced. Jay, more refined, better fit the ideal of a "mature man." Staring blankly at Yvette, he snapped back to reality upon hearing James’s question, accusingly pointing at Marcus. “Mr. Owens, Marcus insists part of my research on Experiment No. 1 is wrong! How could that be? I’ve conducted this experiment countless times!”

Calm and composed, Marcus, through his thin gold-rimmed glasses, glanced at the furious Jay. “He made a mistake, so I told him to redo it. Right is right, and wrong is wrong.”

Jay's refined demeanor vanished, replaced by explosive temper. “He’s just being petty, trying to get back at me for eating his sausage yesterday when I was starving! Now he’s making me redo the experiment again and again! Such a miser. Fine. I’ll pay you back for the sausage!”

Marcus glanced at Jay. “The sausage you ate was Silaria ham. That little piece cost at least 1,500 dollars. Cash or card?”

Jay was dumbfounded. No wonder the sausage tasted so good—it is so expensive! he thought. He scooted closer, fawning. “Hey, look, I’ve already eaten it. Talking about money feels so crass. How about I wash your white shirts for a week to make up for it?”

Marcus, expressionless, nodded. “Deal.”

One moment they were ready to fight, the next, best friends again. Embarrassed, James turned to Yvette with an apologetic smile. “These two are Jay and Marcus, core researchers here. They’re always like this.” He introduced Yvette. “This is Yvette, the person you’ve both been eager to meet.”

Jay’s face flushed red. He sheepishly scratched his head. Marcus, however, glared at Yvette with hostility, sizing her up with anger in his eyes.

Yvette looked at Marcus, her bright eyes slightly narrowing, conveying calm indifference and quiet arrogance. Trying to intimidate me? He’s not even close, she thought. Instinctively, Marcus felt a chill and took a step back.

The bashful Jay, glancing at Yvette, stammered, “Uh, Yvette, hi. I’m Jay Maxwell. I’m 35. I have residency in Betrico, a car, a house, no major loans, and some savings. If you find my qualifications acceptable, maybe we could explore a relationship. I’m really obedient, and my biggest dream is to find a wife. I might be a bit older than you, but no worries. Older men take better care of their partners.”

He rattled this off in one breath. The others stared, expressions ranging from shock and sadness to murderous intent.

James, sensing Jay’s runaway imagination, stopped him. This guy is about to get carried away. If he keeps talking, he’ll probably end up planning the future of his kids with Yvette. It isn’t easy for me to cultivate such a talent. If Jeremiah knows Jay is imagining a future with Yvette, he’d probably want to skin Jay alive. “Jay, you’ve misunderstood. Yvette isn’t here for a blind date. What were you thinking? Stop talking now!”

Marcus visibly relaxed, his hostility fading. He even greeted Yvette, something he hadn't intended earlier. “Hello, I’m Marcus Decker.”

Yvette smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced at both men, her posture relaxed and expression unreadable. “Yvette 7-ler,” she replied curtly.

Jay, mortified, asked awkwardly, “So who is she then, Mr. Owens?”