Mr. Hawthorne, Your Wife Wants a Divorce Again-Chapter 959: Are You Robbing Me?!

About half an hour later, Cyrus Hawthorne rushed back from the company.

Ann Vaughn, having searched the whole third floor and still not found the target, had fallen asleep exhaustedly.

His gaze fell on her weary little face, and Cyrus Hawthorne frowned deeply and asked Breeze in a low voice, "What’s going on?"

"Miss Vaughn might have been subjected to psychological suggestion," Breeze said, taking a jade green medicinal patch from the medical box and placing it on Ann Vaughn’s temple. "If I’m not mistaken, this should be Ryan Wyatt’s doing again."

Ryan Wyatt is a Puppet Master, and everything he is skilled at has an absolute aggressiveness. Through certain means, he can make his "prey" obey his words completely.

It’s likely that there isn’t a second Puppet Master in this world who can compare to him.

"Is there a way to break it?" Cyrus asked coldly.

Breeze shook his head, "Aside from Ryan Wyatt, there’s probably no one who can undo the psychological suggestion placed on her. Moreover, the suggestion he placed on Miss Vaughn isn’t lethal, so even if left alone, it probably won’t matter."

Ann Vaughn is as special to Warren Vance as life itself.

That he had Ryan Wyatt place a psychological suggestion on Ann Vaughn was likely for another purpose, and not necessarily to harm her.

Even though such methods... are quite speechless.

"Whether it matters or not is not up to you or Warren Vance to say," Cyrus sat on the edge of the bed, his voice as cold as ice, "Mark Joyce, send someone to Gothasen Royal City to fetch Ryan Wyatt."

When he said "fetch," Breeze and Mark Joyce could feel the temperature in the room drop.

"Yes, I’ll go right away," Mark Joyce agreed and immediately turned to leave.

Breeze was incredulous, "You’ve barged into the Royal City two or three times already, forcing them to tighten security. Now even birds flying outside are shot down if they try to enter. Aren’t you afraid of sending people there and not coming back?!"

That’s the Gothasen Royal City, not an amusement park!

Cyrus’s expression remained unmoved, and he snorted lightly at the words, "Why not give it a try."

See if they have the ability to stop his people.

Breeze was speechless, fine, he’s already offered his advice. Even if the plan fails, it won’t be blamed on him.

Meanwhile, the Little Dumpling, whom Cyrus had dragged back to the room, tumbled back and forth on the bed.

The number 319 might refer to a date or possibly a special sequence number.

But since Ann Vaughn mentioned the word "archive," the Little Dumpling guessed that "319" and "archive" might likely refer to—

An archive on March 19 of a certain year.

The Little Dumpling always felt that somewhere, she had seen this file before.

But that fleeting glance at that time had turned into a momentary, blurry memory in her mind, making it difficult to piece together a complete picture.

The Little Dumpling couldn’t help but wail, she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.

...

Ann Vaughn, however, slept "well."

Well enough that when she woke up the next day, her whole body ached as if she had run a five-kilometer marathon, collapsing onto the bed facing a breakdown.

Ann Vaughn held a silver needle in her left hand, trembling as she pricked herself with it, which eased the pain in her body.

"Could this villa be haunted?" Ann Vaughn looked around and then at herself, suddenly shivering.

She quickly got up to find the business card Julian Master Moore had previously given her.

Originally, she accepted this business card out of courtesy, not intending to really use it. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

But after three strange incidents... if Ann Vaughn didn’t have some crisis awareness, the next time she might not wake up in her room,

but outside in the flowerbed...

After breakfast, Ann Vaughn told Kenny and then went to the Temple of the Clear Heart.

Out of guilt, she didn’t dare to talk to Cyrus and slipped away directly.

Cyrus’s expression didn’t show anything, but his gaze was somber.

An hour and a half later.

Temple of the Clear Heart.

Following the address on the business card, Ann Vaughn wound her way through the vast and serene temple, asking countless monks, until she finally found Echo Lynch in the innermost courtyard.

He was sitting on the branches of a tree in the courtyard, wearing a white shirt and black trousers, his short hair neat and clean, his posture upright and straight, with one leg lazily dangling from the branches.

Hearing a sound, he turned his head to look down and saw Ann Vaughn holding the business card at a glance.

"What’s up?" Echo Lynch spoke, his voice like pearls falling on a jade plate, pleasant to the ear.

"Hello, Dr. Lynch, I’m here to see you for a consultation."

Initially, Ann Vaughn thought Echo Lynch was a monk here or the host, but apparently, he was neither.

This young man was not only exceptionally good-looking but also had an aura that was at odds with this temple.

Echo Lynch’s gaze assessed Ann Vaughn’s face, then he jumped down from the tree and went to the tree-ring table below, saying to her, "Have a seat."

Ann Vaughn walked over and sat down, taking the cup of herbal tea he handed her, expressing her thanks.

"You came to see me because you want me to help you break the psychological suggestion, or to help you recover your memory," Echo Lynch leisurely asked after sipping the tea.

Ann Vaughn was startled, raising her eyes suddenly.

"Psychological suggestion?!"

Could it be that the strange things that happened three times were not because of sleepwalking but because someone placed a psychological suggestion on her?!

She hadn’t even noticed...

Just thinking about how she might have done numerous things against her will during her unawareness due to the suggestion gave Ann Vaughn a chill.

Who could have done such a thing?!

Her surprise was not unusual to Echo Lynch; many who had been subjected to psychological suggestion might never perceive it in their lifetime.

Echo Lynch gazed at her and added, "The choice is yours, but you can only choose one. However, I think you might prefer me to help you recover your memory."

"Can’t I choose both?" Ann Vaughn asked curiously.

"One must not be greedy."

"..." What a uniquely characterful doctor.

After a long moment of thought, Ann Vaughn finally made a decision, "Then I’d trouble you to help me break the psychological suggestion."

Echo Lynch raised an eyebrow at her, "Are you sure?"

Ann Vaughn’s lips pressed slightly, her heart saying she wasn’t hesitant, but since she had already made the choice, it wasn’t good to change it at the last minute.

"I’m sure."

"Alright..." Echo Lynch said, taking out two QR code images from the table. "Payment before service. I’ll give you a ten percent discount for Julian Master Moore’s sake and only charge you 180,000."

One hundred and eighty thousand?!

"Are you robbing me?!" Ann Vaughn couldn’t help blurting out.

Echo Lynch’s eyes lowered, looking somewhat forlorn, "Often, I’m so poor that I can hardly afford food. The greatest dream of my life is to eat a bite of meat."