Chapter 165: A Fierce Kiss

Chapter 165: Chapter 165: A Fierce Kiss

Professor Clarke nodded in satisfaction, his gaze sweeping over Claire Kendall.

"Young lady, you certainly are lucky! Back in the day, the girls waiting at the School of Medicine’s entrance to give him love letters had to form a line."

Claire Kendall glanced at Miles, her eyes curving into crescents as she nodded emphatically.

’Isn’t that the truth? If it weren’t for him, how could my business of ghostwriting love letters have been so successful for all four years of college?’

But Miles Warren shook his head. "Professor, I’m actually the lucky one."

"She also graduated from Aethel, from the design school. She’s a very talented designer."

Professor Clarke looked surprised, then let out a low laugh. "How embarrassing. I’m ashamed of my ignorance."

"Excellent, excellent. You two are a perfect match, no matter how I look at it."

Professor Clarke clapped him on the shoulder. "Do you have a moment? I have a tumor pathology analysis here I’d like you to take a look at."

"Alright." Miles nodded, then reminded Claire, "Just wander around nearby, but don’t run off. Some of the labs have cadavers, and you might get scared."

Claire nodded and waved obediently. "Goodbye, Professor Clarke."

Professor Clarke smiled and nodded, turning back to say, "Miles, you’ve really married a wonderful wife."

"She’s even changed your personality quite a bit. You’re more cheerful and much more personable than before."

Miles glanced back over his shoulder. The young woman was on her tiptoes, carefully wiping the glass of the photo wall with a tissue.

He couldn’t help but curl his lips into a smile, the tenderness in his eyes nearly overflowing. He said in a low voice, "Yes, it’s all thanks to her."

Claire admired the glass wall she had just wiped clean and nodded in satisfaction.

She paced back and forth, looking at it several times.

But the young man in the photo had a gravity in his eyes that didn’t belong to someone his age. Claire’s fingertips gently brushed over his brows and eyes on the picture.

’Was it because of his studies? Or the Warren Family? Or... because of me?’

’But he really is handsome.’

’Even after sleeping with him so many times, I still find myself so easily bewitched, drowning in those eyes of his, coaxed into compliance... ’

Thinking of this, Claire’s face flushed, and she immediately shook the chaotic thoughts from her mind.

She sidled up next to the photo, tilted her head, and pretended to press her lips to the spot where Miles Warren’s cheek was on the picture in the display case. With her other hand, she held up her phone, grinning as she continued taking the photos she hadn’t finished earlier.

Suddenly, an accusatory voice sounded from behind her.

"Hey, who are you? You’re not from our department, are you?"

Three female students stood behind her, their brows furrowed tightly, their gazes filled with undisguised disgust.

"Did you come in from outside? Don’t you know the School of Medicine has a rule against outsiders coming in?"

Claire explained patiently, "I just registered at the security office."

"Don’t worry, I won’t wander around. I’m just waiting for someone here."

The girl with wavy hair sneered. "Registered? Does being registered mean you can just take pictures however you want?"

She pointed at the photo wall behind Claire. "Do you even know who that is? You think he’s handsome, so you strike a disgusting pose like that for a picture?"

"Huh?" Claire shook her head and opened her mouth to speak. "This is my hus—"

She was cut off, the faces of all three girls showing the exact same contempt.

"That’s the greatest academic prodigy our school has seen in twenty years! Show some respect, and don’t use someone else’s distinguished photo as a backdrop for your selfies!"

"Kissing the photo wall... If Miles found out, he’d probably be disgusted to death."

"Exactly! Take a picture of her and post it on the school forum!"

The three of them chattered away as they raised their phones.

This time, Claire’s expression darkened. Just as she was about to offer an explanation and a warning, she was cut off by a gentle voice.

"Claire."

Miles Warren emerged from the lab behind them, his pace a little quicker than usual.

He walked straight back to her. Lowering his gaze, he noticed her sneaker’s lace was slightly undone.

Without a word, he naturally squatted down. He took the ends of the lace, crossed them over, and tied them with practiced, gentle movements. After neatening the bow, he stood up.

His voice was gentle as he brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead. "You didn’t even notice your shoelace was loose. Be careful you don’t trip."

"Next time we go out, I’ll check it for you."

The three girls who had just been shouting stood frozen, their faces completely blank.

The Miles Warren who, according to rumor, had shown no interest in women for four years? Willingly squatting down to so gently tie a woman’s shoelace!

One of them asked in a trembling voice, "M-Miles Warren?"

"A-a living, breathing Miles! Then the woman next to him is..."

Miles gave them a cool glance, then looked back at Claire. "Is something wrong?"

Claire shot a look at the trio across from her and shook her head lightly. "Nothing’s wrong."

She linked her arm with Miles’s, her voice deliberately a little higher and sweeter. "Honey, let’s go. The lecture is about to start."

"Alright, whatever you say."

As Claire led Miles past the three girls, she suddenly stood on her tiptoes and planted a loud SMOOCH on his cheek.

Then, like a grade-schooler, she jutted her chin out at them smugly.

’So what if I kissed a photo?’

’I can kiss the real thing!’

The thousand-seat lecture hall at the School of Medicine was already packed.

There were no seats left, but people were still flooding in from the corridor. The back rows and aisles were completely filled with students.

Miles Warren—the name itself was legendary at Aethel University School of Medicine.

For his first lecture back at the university since graduating, he was naturally the center of attention.

Claire sat in the front row, quietly waiting for her husband to go on stage and "teach his class."

Miles walked onto the stage from the side. The buzz in the lecture hall immediately vanished. He stood behind the lectern, his gaze sweeping across the entire audience before finally landing on the right-hand corner of the front row.

Their eyes met.

Claire gave him a playful wink. Miles suppressed the slight smile at the corners of his lips, pulled up his PowerPoint, and began his lecture on difficult case studies related to "Renal Function."

Immune mechanisms, growth environments, post-operative rejection... She recognized every word, but strung together, they were complete gibberish to her.

She glanced around. Everyone else was listening intently; it was a free master class, after all.

Claire propped her chin on her hand and tried her best to listen.

’Mmm, I can hold on a little longer for the sake of my husband’s handsome face... Ugh, never mind. I can’t do it.’

She secretly yawned. Listening to the gentle, flowing cadence of Miles’s voice, her eyelids began to fight a losing battle.

A little... a little more... until finally, her head drooped completely, and she drifted off to sleep.

On the stage, Miles’s fingers, holding the laser pointer, paused for a moment.

"The characteristics of this glomerular lesion indicate high-difficulty focal segmental..."

His gaze fell upon the figure in the front row.

She was propping her little face up with one hand, her nose pressed against the back of it, her long eyelashes trembling softly.

’She’s sleeping soundly, at least.’

Miles continued, "The most prominent clinical manifestation of this disease is..."

"Excuse me? Hey, excuse me?"

A girl gently nudged Claire, her tone full of exasperation.

"Hey, how could you fall asleep? The lecture is so good, and he’s so handsome! Look, there’s a huge crowd of students from other schools squeezed outside."

Claire rubbed her eyes.

"He’s handsome, sure, but I see him every day. I’m used to it."

Everyone nearby: ???

A chilling gaze shot toward her.

Claire instinctively looked up and met Miles’s dark, unreadable eyes.

’He heard me? He could hear what I said from that far away?’

She could have sworn Miles curled his lip in a cold smile, but it was only for a fleeting, almost imperceptible moment before he continued his lecture with perfect composure.

As the lecture neared its end, it was time for the Q&A session.

A microphone was passed to the students. Two girls asked a few questions about the dosage of enzyme inhibitors, and Miles’s answers were crisp and clear, earning continuous applause from the audience.

Then, the microphone was passed to a bolder male student.

"Miles, I’d like to ask, do you have a girlfriend right now? I heard you didn’t date at all during your four years of university. I’ve just started at the school. Do I also have to be as chaste and detached as you were to get good grades?"