The Genius Delta

In the dilapidated shack, the man fastened his belt while casually saying, "Think about it, should we apply for a marriage certificate, or just pretend nothing happened?"

Emily White shivered, clutching a tattered blanket on a broken bed, rubbing the back of her head.

Her clothes had been stripped off, and her head, which had been hit with a stick, still throbbed painfully, leaving her feeling groggy.

The man standing in front of the bed had a broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, and muscular upper body, his skin glaringly white under the dim light.

Emily felt dizzy and confused, unsure if it was from the headache or from the shock of seeing such a sight.

Instinctively, she blurted out, "Nothing happened between us..."

She had been knocked unconscious, stripped, and thrown into his shack, while he had been drugged and left there as well.

Yet, this man had shown inhuman willpower to resist his instincts, crawling into a cold water tank and squatting there for half the night.

Until the drug effects wore off... he was a tough character.

The mans hair and body were drenched.

Expressionlessly, he brushed the wet bangs from his nose bridge back: "Others wont believe that a man and a woman, naked in a room together, did nothing."

Emilys originally unfocused pupils suddenly contracted—

The mans face, with its sharply defined contours, had water droplets running down his high, narrow nose bridge.

His long, dark eyes had a distant, cold light, and the upturned ends were finely crafted, as if meticulously drawn.

It was a face that, placed in the twenty-first century, would make teenage girls scream with delight.

But in the 1970s, men with strong, square faces were considered handsome, and this was a pretty boy that people looked down upon!

Especially with a scar on one side of his forehead, breaking his appearance and showing a cold, fierce, and ruthless look that people of the time disliked.

"What are you looking at!" John Cold noticed her gaze, frowning sharply.

He hated it the most when people stared at his face.

John Cold raised his hand and brushed his bangs down to cover his eyebrows and scar, and casually put on his black-framed glasses.

With this block, he looked again like the unlikable, pale, and indifferent village doctor.

Emily felt a bit dazed and closed her eyes: "I wasnt looking at anything, just thinking that the world... is full of wonders."

For example...

She was flipping through her old photos from decades ago when she was sent to the countryside, feeling sentimental and regretful as she fell asleep.

As a result, when she woke up, she found herself in this thrilling night forty years ago.

If it werent for the real pain in the back of her head.

If it werent for the man who should only exist in old photos, still standing vividly in front of her.

She would have thought she was in a dream, rather than bizarrely reborn decades ago when she was sent to the countryside.

John Colds indifferent gaze moved from her pale shoulder: "Although I dont know who wants to use me to harm you, but..."

He paused: "Emily the educated youth, have you thought about what to do?"

They were naked in a room together; he should take responsibility for her.

"Im sorry, Ive involved you," Emily said absentmindedly. If it were the twenty-first century decades later.

Forget being naked in a room together, even if they had slept together hundreds of times... there would be no need for anyone to take responsibility for anyone else.

John Cold expressionlessly pressed on the large black frame of his glasses, glancing at the crowd approaching the cow shed not far from the window—

"If we dont get married, youll have to think about how to get out of this, and Ill try to help you."

"Dr. Cold, Ill get married with you!" Emily suddenly spoke.

John Colds sharp eyebrows knitted: "What did you say?"