"The data! Look at her vital signs!"
Dr. Elias Lin was still consumed by the frenzy of discovery, his eyes glued to the soaring curves on the monitor. To him, all that mattered were the perfect, paradigm-shattering data streams.
But in his study, Aidan could no longer hear any reports.
His world had narrowed to the single, fragile figure collapsing on the monitor. That fall, that instant of surrender, was like a heavy hammer striking the one thing he always kept in perfect order: his heart.
"Sir?" Zion Chen's voice came through the comms, questioning, because he had sensed Aidan's unusual silence.
Aidan didn't answer.
To the astonishment of Zion and every researcher present, the one-way glass door separating the observation room from the testing area was violently thrown open from the inside.
Aidan Lin—the supreme commander who treated rules as gospel, who always maintained an absolute physical distance from his "specimens"—had, for the first time, stepped onto the testing floor.
He moved like a cold storm, striding past the stunned researchers. He didn't even glance at the miraculous plant, a symbol of a new era in science. His entire focus was on the girl lying unconscious on the cold floor.
He knelt and carefully scooped Stella into his arms.
Her body was lighter than he'd imagined, as fragile as a feather. Her face was drained of all color, and strands of hair, damp with cold sweat, clung to her forehead, creating a heart-wrenching image of broken beauty.
"Sir, her vitals are..." Dr. Lin, finally snapping out of his data-induced trance, stepped forward to report what he deemed the more important "situation."
"Silence."
Aidan didn't even look at him. He squeezed the single word from his throat, a word so cold it seemed to drop the room's temperature by several degrees.
Dr. Lin and Dr. Zhang froze on the spot. They had never seen Aidan display such... human emotion. A raw mix of anger and anxiety.
Aidan turned and walked away, carrying Stella, his steps steady and unwavering.
The soft warmth of her body in his arms, the faint, clean scent of her, like fresh grass after a rain—it was all seeping through the expensive fabric of his shirt, disrupting the fortress of logic and data he had built around his heart.
He carried her through the cold corridors, back to her equally cold, luxurious room. He gently laid her down on the large, soft bed and pulled the covers over her.
Just as he was about to stand and leave, the strange warmth in his arms vanished. At the same time, the gnawing anxiety and sharp pain that plagued his nerves, robbing him of sleep night after night, returned with a vengeance.
He instinctively paused.
On a strange impulse, he reached out and gently took hold of Stella's hand, which lay limp at the side of the bed.
Her hand was cool, but the moment his fingertips touched her skin, a faint yet incredibly pure warm current flowed out from her body, traveling up his arm and spreading through his entire being.
The agonizing pain... was soothed once again.
Aidan's body went rigid.
He finally understood. The sudden sense of relief he had felt in his office that day... it wasn't an illusion.
Her energy didn't just affect the external world. It could directly affect his "curse."
She was his antidote.
This realization didn't bring him joy. It brought a deeper, more profound sense of irritation, of being violated.
Him? Aidan Lin? A man who held everything and everyone under his absolute control, was now "dependent" on another person? His body needed this small, fragile "specimen" to find peace?
To him, this was a loss of control more humiliating than any business failure.
He snatched his hand back as if he'd been burned.
He stood up, looking down at the sleeping girl. Even in her sleep, her brow was slightly furrowed, as if she were in pain.
Aidan looked at her pale lips, and his mind uncontrollably replayed the image of her in the rain, her eyes defiant as she said, "I didn't do it for the money."
Clear, clean, filled with something he couldn't understand, couldn't quantify.
He reached out his hand again. This time, he didn't touch her. Instead, his fingers traced the outline of her cheek in the air above her skin.
"What... are you?" he whispered to himself, his voice laced with a confusion he himself didn't recognize.
Just then, Stella stirred on the bed, as if sensing his presence. She shifted, turning her face toward him, and let out a soft, kitten-like murmur.
Aidan's heart, without any warning, skipped a beat.