Mr. Hawthorne, Your Wife Wants a Divorce Again-Chapter 972: Handing Over to the Nation

Meanwhile, the mirror in Little Dumpling’s hand suddenly lit up, and the red dot on the screen started bouncing happily.

"It’s at one o’clock ahead, keep going straight, and pick up the pace!"

With no hesitation, Spade J revved the engine and charged into the yellow sand, undeterred by the raging wind and blinding dust.

The closer they got to the eye of the storm, the louder the wind battered against the car, making the whole vehicle tremble, tightening the hearts of the three inside.

Thud—

The wheels rolled over the ancient ruins’ gate, and Spade J, keeping the last bit of composure, accelerated through the sandstorm and burst into the Mirage.

...

Ann Vaughn, unaware that her obedient son ran off to the desert, felt tired after reading a rare medical book and fell asleep on the pillow.

But when she awoke and opened her eyes, the sight before her gave her a start.

She was supposed to be taking a nap in the guest bedroom yet found herself inexplicably in the study, holding a book...

Having experienced this a few times before, Ann wasn’t too panicked this time, but her heart still raced.

Waking up like a wandering spirit outside was something difficult to accept for anyone.

Too preoccupied to put the book away, she rushed back to the guest bedroom and took out the recorder from the drawer, pressing on the switch.

The sound of a wooden fish began playing in the room.

Closing her eyes, Ann listened to the recording twice, and finally, the dizziness eased significantly, allowing her a heavy sigh of relief.

Should she be relieved that whoever planted the psychological suggestion on her wasn’t trying to kill her?

Otherwise, if she were "dreaming" about murder and arson, she might not even know...

Ann turned down the volume of the recorder and placed it by her hand, listening while she opened the book she was holding.

Only to realize it wasn’t a book at all but the same file from last time.

It didn’t seem like a coincidence...

Ann pursed her lips and began flipping through the file page by page.

She wanted to see what was so special about this file that someone would lead her to it with psychological suggestions.

But after leafing through the file, Ann found nothing, and she didn’t recognize any of the people it documented.

However, there were three individuals with the same surname as hers, leaving a slight impression on her.

The first was Howard Vaughn, the lowest class of desert dwellers in Mordane, once a rich merchant in S Country, now living in the slums.

The second was Shuhua Vaughn, once a member of Blackhold Six, exiled to Mordane for some reason, and perished in a riot.

The third was Rain Vaughn, an orphan with unknown other details.

"Why don’t any of them have a photo?" Ann glanced down at Shuhua Vaughn’s information on the document, muttering quietly before turning the page.

After finishing the whole file, Ann’s eyes were almost teary from the strain, yet she still hadn’t found any useful information.

Perhaps there was some, but she hadn’t noticed?

This file was not Ann’s, so she couldn’t take it away without consent, and took it back to the study room instead.

As she passed by Wilder Sheridan’s room, Eli Sheridan had just finished his phone call and was coming in. Upon seeing her, he smiled.

"I’ve been thinking it over; it’s inconvenient for an unmarried girl like you to stay in someone else’s home, so I’ve bought the villa at the back. You can move in soon."

Ann Vaughn: ???

Villas in this residential area aren’t something money alone can buy; what exactly does her brother do?

It was evident he had a knack for negotiation script.

With just a few words, Ann got persuaded, and by the time she realized, Eli already had her belongings packed and moved to the villa at the back.

Ann wanted to say it wasn’t necessary to rush, but seeing Eli’s expectant face, she swallowed her words.

Cyrus Hawthorne’s phone number was "stolen," making it impossible for Ann to contact him. So, she only told Kenny and Julian Ford about her move.

Everything in the villa was well-prepared, and it was unknown how Eli Sheridan managed to set it all up in such a short time.

Ann’s unease dissipated instantly.

Sitting in the room Eli Sheridan prepared for her, Ann copied down the formula for the life-extending potion and placed it in an envelope.

Having done that, she took a silver tray and burned the remaining manuscripts and experimental records in one go.

Watching the golden-orange flames dancing in the silver tray, Ann’s red lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes reflecting the light with unexpected calmness.

Rather than honor, wealth, or power that the life-extending potion might bring, Ann was more concerned about whether these could be used correctly.

She didn’t want her research and efforts to fall into the wrong hands and be used for evil.

She’d rather burn everything than give them that chance.

Watching the last piece of paper turn to ash with her own eyes, Ann picked up the envelope and left the room.

First Hospital.

During the gap when Reese Lynch went to feed the child, only Mr. Linden and Mrs. Lynch were in the ward.

Seeing Ann Vaughn suddenly arrive, both were a bit surprised but soon turned to joy.

"Annie, thanks to the medicinal wine you sent, your Uncle Lynch hasn’t had back pain these past few days and has been sleeping soundly at night." Mrs. Lynch warmly took Ann’s hand, her eyes brimming with gentle smiles.

Originally having a slight fondness for Ann because of their daughter, it had now grown significantly.

A smile also appeared on Mr. Linden’s stern face, "Yes, in the past twenty years, it’s only recently that I’ve had a few good night’s sleep, thanks to you. Your medical skills truly deserve the name The Divine Doctor."

The ailments in his body were old wounds from when he was on the battlefield, left untreated due to the poor medical conditions back then. Even with good care now and frequent exercise, problems persisted.

Even doctors at the military hospital had no solution but to advise him to drink less, endure less strain, and use tonics to foster slight improvements, albeit negligible.

If past treatments were mere drizzles, providing brief relief...

Then the medicinal wine Ann supplied was a downpour, creating remarkable bodily changes.

Ann hadn’t expected when she initially gave the wine to have a request for Mr. Linden today.

This made her past gesture seem less pure.

But given the significance of the matter, Ann had no choice but to act, even if it risked making a bad impression on Mr. and Mrs. Linden.

"Uncle Lynch, I came today to ask for your help. Could you please listen to what I have to say first?"

Mr. Linden kept his smile, "Go ahead."

"I have an ancient, long-lost formula, which I’ve experimented with multiple times and found feasible," Ann sincerely stated. "However, if this formula falls into the wrong hands, it could lead to disaster. After considering it thoroughly, I think it’s better to hand it over to the state. If it can contribute to our country’s medical research, that would be a fortunate thing."