Mr. Hawthorne, Your Wife Wants a Divorce Again-Chapter 970: Lovesick

As it approached noon, Zane Lancaster had someone deliver Ann Vaughn’s forgotten phone.

She had been knocked out in the taxi and, since waking up, hadn’t seen her phone again. She assumed it was lost for good, but unexpectedly, Zane Lancaster sent it to her.

Even though she didn’t know how he got it, it was undeniable that she now owed him a favor.

Presumably having guessed that the phone had already reached Ann Vaughn, Zane Lancaster’s call came through.

Ann Vaughn immediately answered, "Hello?"

"After we left yesterday, The Imperial Capital Police Department sent people to search the institute. Their unauthorized human experiments have been exposed. Higher-ups will be involved in investigating those people thoroughly," Zane Lancaster’s calm voice resonated.

"Does that mean those people weren’t caught?" Ann Vaughn’s heart tightened slightly.

Zane Lancaster responded with a hum, "They evacuated quickly and even planned to detonate bombs to destroy all traces in the institute, but they failed."

Though he mentioned it lightly, given his actions from yesterday, Ann Vaughn thought those bombs not being detonated must be related to him.

But since he didn’t speak of it, Ann Vaughn wisely didn’t ask.

"How’s your situation with the Lockwood Family? Do they suspect you?"

"No one would suspect a pet of betraying them. Likewise, the Lockwood Family wouldn’t think this has anything to do with me."

Zane Lancaster’s voice was flat, not a trace of resentment or anger, calmly stating the facts.

Who would compare themselves to a family pet?

Ann Vaughn was puzzled, just as she heard Zane Lancaster continue, "Lucy Lock wants to get something from you. If you don’t want trouble because of it, you’d better find a way to handle it sooner rather than later. They won’t give up easily."

"What?" Ann Vaughn was even more confused, "What are you referring to?"

There was a two-second silence from Zane Lancaster’s side, "The longevity serum."

Longevity... serum?!

Ann Vaughn’s eyes suddenly froze,

Piecing together the information from Josiah Keaton and insights from the "Ancient Medical Book," she finally understood the principle behind this serum.

But creating it is far from easy, and she’s still exploring it.

But how did Lucy Lock know about this?

Could it be... she once made such a serum too?!

"Lucy Lock kept this matter hidden out of selfishness, so even that gentleman is unaware. However, no one can guarantee Lucy Lock won’t change her mind in the future," Zane Lancaster added.

Only then did Ann Vaughn realize Zane Lancaster didn’t call Lucy Lock "my mom," but directly by her name.

It was apparent that the relationship between this mother and son wasn’t very good.

However, instead of being curious about irrelevant matters, she asked, "Who exactly is that gentleman? You seem to hold him in high regard?"

"You want to know?" Zane Lancaster asked back.

"I’m a bit curious."

Zane Lancaster’s voice was leisurely, "Then how about we make a deal?"

Hearing the change in his tone, Ann Vaughn slightly raised an eyebrow. This was probably his true intention behind telling her all of this.

Nonetheless... she had no reason to refuse.

Having reached an agreement with Zane Lancaster, Ann Vaughn hung up the phone, lost in thought.

People like Zane Lancaster are best not to cross, otherwise, one might never know how they met their end.

He seemed easygoing, not competitive, a bit of a foodie, yet unexpectedly... so cunning when scheming.

Ding.

A sudden message popped up on Ann Vaughn’s screen.

The familiar name made Ann Vaughn’s heart shiver slightly. Her fingers swiped over the screen several times before finally opening it.

--YG: Unless something unexpected happens, I’ll return next week. Take care of yourself, I’ll check up on you then.

Seeing this official and succinct message, Ann Vaughn’s cheeks puffed up, a big question mark appearing above her head.

Seriously? Is that it??

He’s been abroad for almost two weeks and hadn’t contacted her before. She gave him the excuse of being too busy with work.

After all that time, he finally contacts her with such a cold message.

Checking on me, does he think he’s my dean?!

So he doesn’t love me anymore??

A little grievance bubbled up in Ann Vaughn’s heart, as her phone vibrated again. She listlessly glanced at it.

--YG: Missing you, an illness no medicine can cure.

Oops!

Lying on the balcony railing, Ann Vaughn immediately straightened up. Once she was sure she hadn’t misread, a trace of doubt appeared in her eyes.

Was this really from James Vaughn?

Was his number stolen?!

Meanwhile.

The Expanse Federation.

In this world, wherever there are people, there will always be distinctions of rank.

The Expanse Federation is divided into nine regions, numbered one to nine, with a hierarchical system even more stringent than elsewhere.

Blackhold One ranks at the bottom, neighboring the checkpoint of The Heribian Sea, so outsiders entering the Federation are always placed there.

But that’s just touching the fringes of the Federation; penetrating deeper is harder than ascending to heaven.

If Blackhold One holds the weakest position, then Blackhold Nine is the pinnacle everyone within and outside the Federation aspires to.

It is also the symbol of the highest power in the Federation.

Unfortunately, some people might never reach that height in their entire life, never even come close to Blackhold Nine.

Blackhold Nine, set within a central, vintage-style aerial mansion.

Within the lavish and elegant study, a solemn and majestic aura pervaded, with only the silver lake visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows bringing some vitality.

Voices could be heard in conversation at the desk.

The content was a bit perplexing.

"When it comes to pleasing a girl, the most important thing is sweet talk and seven parts action. If you send just a serious ’I miss you,’ the girl might not be pleased and could feel you’re perfunctory."

The man on the left wiped his sweat and continued, "Action is much simpler—like creating small surprises for her, gifting flowers, jewelry, designer handbags... Well, there’s no girl who doesn’t like that."

The other man on the right chuckled, respectfully addressing the man behind the desk, "I reckon, given your status, just a smile or a gesture of goodwill would suffice to make her happy, no longer angry with you."

"She’s different." The man spoke slowly, his metallic voice carrying a trace of displeasure.

In his black Federation Officer uniform, his brows sharp and deep-set, an aura cold and commanding enveloped him. Seated as he was, the pressure from his presence was overwhelming.

It made one momentarily think that beneath him was a throne built from piled white bones.

And he, was the king upon that throne.