Winter lo
Winter loved ceviche, so she picked ceviche made from fresh salmon and some other common seafood dishes.
Miranda wasnât used to eating raw food. She picked pasta and cured fish slices.
The pasta tasted average, but the ingredients were exceptionally fresh.
Noting that she was more modest with her choice of food, Winter teased her. â This salmon is really tender. Are you sure you donât want to try some? Who knows, you might come to enjoy it.â
Miranda declined. âYou know me, I canât accept raw food. Iâll just have my pasta.â
âAll these years, and you havenât changed a bit.
From the first day Winter had met Miranda, sheâd realized the latterâs preferences never changed. Likewise, the things she hated remained the same.
Winter continued, âAs a matter of fact, Iâve missed the spa for a few days now. My hands have become coarse.â
She sighed at the mention of this. She commented, âItâs all my dadâs fault. Heâs been urging me to go on blind dates recently. Not only did my mom allow him to do so, but she also helped him trick me.
âItâs not like they canât afford to let me live with them. Why would they go to that extent? Besides, if a genius like Paul is still single, why should I worry about marriage?â
At the mention of Paul, Miranda remembered that it had been some time.
since sheâd last met him.
Although they were neighbors, they were both busy with their own matters. Since the day theyâd had fondue together, sheâd only met him once when sheâd given him some sandwiches.
Winter didnât realize that Miranda was distracted. She took a piece of cured fish slice as she recalled what had happened the last time. âWhat happened. after you visited Dr. Young with Paul?â
+15 BONUS
Miranda took another bite of her pasta. She chewed and swallowed before telling Winter what happened.
âThatâs the whole story. Dr. Young reserved a spot for me, so I must pass the postgraduate admission exams this year.â
Winter clapped her hands. âWay to go! I like it when youâre confident! As a reward, Iâll take you somewhere this weekend. How about that?â
Miranda asked, âWhere would that be?â
âYouâll know when the time comes.â
After lunch, Winter drove Miranda back to the library since the latter strongly insisted on it. It was still early, and she could study a little more.
After completing two sets of exercises, she looked up and noticed that the sun was already setting. Her seat was by the window. The golden rays fell through the window and cast a golden hue over her, radiating warmth.
Miranda stretched. Sheâd just packed her books and exercises when she heard the broadcast reminding the library patrons that the library was closing.
Picking up her bag, she left on time.
The orange sunset set the sky on fire. Colors overlapped each other, starting out pale and ending with a deep, rich tone. It was like a vibrant oil painting.
Miranda slowed down as she started thinking about dinner. Before she realized it, she reached her apartment, where a black figure appeared out of nowhere.
One week ago, Paulâs latest experiment had yielded a data error. Heâd stayed up for days repeating the steps, but the results had been unsatisfactory.
The coordinator was a middleâaged man in his 40s, Blake Gibson. Heâd been there from the start since Paul had taken over the research.
Now that there was something wrong with the experiment, Blake seemed worried. âThe results showed that we were in the right direction in the beginning. Weâd been carrying out the experiment as usual. Why would there
LISBONUS
be an error?â
Paul frowned. âThe purpose of carrying out experiments is so that we can make trials and errors. The results arenât everything.â
âBut when there is a data error, it means thereâs a mistake. Weâve repeated the same mistake dozens of times. Is one whole week insufficient to prove that?â
Blake glanced at Paul. He tentatively asked, âWhy donât we stop when we can since we canât proceed any further? Itâs not wrong to try another method.â
Paul was expressionless. Through his glasses, his sharp gaze landed on Blake. âAre you worried that the experiment will fail?
Or perhaps you think Dr. Greenâs method is more aligned with your idea of prioritizing profits?â
ved ceviche, so she picked ceviche made from fresh salmon and some other common seafood dishes.
Miranda wasnât used to eating raw food. She picked pasta and cured fish slices.
The pasta tasted average, but the ingredients were exceptionally fresh.
Noting that she was more modest with her choice of food, Winter teased her. â This salmon is really tender. Are you sure you donât want to try some? Who knows, you might come to enjoy it.â
Miranda declined. âYou know me, I canât accept raw food. Iâll just have my pasta.â
âAll these years, and you havenât changed a bit.
From the first day Winter had met Miranda, sheâd realized the latterâs preferences never changed. Likewise, the things she hated remained the same.
Winter continued, âAs a matter of fact, Iâve missed the spa for a few days now. My hands have become coarse.â
She sighed at the mention of this. She commented, âItâs all my dadâs fault. Heâs been urging me to go on blind dates recently. Not only did my mom allow him to do so, but she also helped him trick me.
âItâs not like they canât afford to let me live with them. Why would they go to that extent? Besides, if a genius like Paul is still single, why should I worry about marriage?â
At the mention of Paul, Miranda remembered that it had been some time.
since sheâd last met him.
Although they were neighbors, they were both busy with their own matters. Since the day theyâd had fondue together, sheâd only met him once when sheâd given him some sandwiches.
Winter didnât realize that Miranda was distracted. She took a piece of cured fish slice as she recalled what had happened the last time. âWhat happened. after you visited Dr. Young with Paul?â
+15 BONUS
Miranda took another bite of her pasta. She chewed and swallowed before telling Winter what happened.
âThatâs the whole story. Dr. Young reserved a spot for me, so I must pass the postgraduate admission exams this year.â
Winter clapped her hands. âWay to go! I like it when youâre confident! As a reward, Iâll take you somewhere this weekend. How about that?â owns all © content.
Miranda asked, âWhere would that be?â
âYouâll know when the time comes.â
After lunch, Winter drove Miranda back to the library since the latter strongly insisted on it. It was still early, and she could study a little more.
After completing two sets of exercises, she looked up and noticed that the sun was already setting. Her seat was by the window. The golden rays fell through the window and cast a golden hue over her, radiating warmth.
Miranda stretched. Sheâd just packed her books and exercises when she heard the broadcast reminding the library patrons that the library was closing.
Picking up her bag, she left on time.
The orange sunset set the sky on fire. Colors overlapped each other, starting out pale and ending with a deep, rich tone. It was like a vibrant oil painting.
Miranda slowed down as she started thinking about dinner. Before she realized it, she reached her apartment, where a black figure appeared out of nowhere.
One week ago, Paulâs latest experiment had yielded a data error. Heâd stayed up for days repeating the steps, but the results had been unsatisfactory.
The coordinator was a middleâaged man in his 40s, Blake Gibson. Heâd been there from the start since Paul had taken over the research.
Now that there was something wrong with the experiment, Blake seemed worried. âThe results showed that we were in the right direction in the beginning. Weâd been carrying out the experiment as usual. Why would there
LISBONUS
be an error?â
Paul frowned. âThe purpose of carrying out experiments is so that we can make trials and errors. The results arenât everything.â
âBut when there is a data error, it means thereâs a mistake. Weâve repeated the same mistake dozens of times. Is one whole week insufficient to prove that?â
Blake glanced at Paul. He tentatively asked, âWhy donât we stop when we can since we canât proceed any further? Itâs not wrong to try another method.â
Paul was expressionless. Through his glasses, his sharp gaze landed on Blake. âAre you worried that the experiment will fail?
Or perhaps you think Dr. Greenâs method is more aligned with your idea of prioritizing profits?â