Chapter 170: Chapter 170: The Pot Made the First Move
Accompanied by their exclamations, a big and a small figure turned the corner.
"Oh, Mommy, Kenny is all grown up now and wants to walk by himself, no need for Mommy to carry him." Kenny sniffed the good scent from Ann Vaughn and pretended to be serious.
He’s already three and a half years old this year, a big baby who can be independent and strong!
"Alright," Ann Vaughn put him down, held his small hand, and smiled warmly, "but Mommy just wants to hold Kenny, never gets enough, what to do?"
Kenny looked instantly conflicted, "Well, when no one’s around, Mommy can hold him again!"
Otherwise, Walt next door would laugh at him!
Ann Vaughn’s heart melted, she pinched his soft cheek with her palm but didn’t expose his little scheme.
Mother and son held big hand with little hand and walked home step by step.
Ann Vaughn’s little house was the best location selected by all the residents for her when Isle of Flora was rebuilt.
Down the stone steps, around the alley, and they arrived.
Red and light pink rose vines hung in front of the blue-roofed white-walled house, and besides them, there was a sapling taller than Kenny.
As they approached, the door of the house opened, and a man with an apron and a spatula, his handsome face covered in soot, came out.
Seeing Ann Vaughn and Kenny, the man was momentarily silent, still handsome despite the soot, finally said seriously, "The pot made the first move."
"Uncle Jennings, did you blow up our kitchen again?!" Kenny pouted, looking incredulously at Sutton Jennings.
Facing the blow from Kenny, Sutton Jennings could only let out two dry laughs, "The pots at home don’t obey."
Ann Vaughn burst into laughter, looking at Sutton Jennings in such an uncharacteristic state from his usual dignified appearance, she couldn’t bear to hit him down.
"Brother Shane, you actually don’t need to force yourself to cook for us."
"No worries, I’m not forcing myself, another few attempts and I’ll get it right," Sutton Jennings was confident.
"No, I’m just afraid my kitchen won’t withstand three explosions from you," Ann Vaughn firmly refused.
After seeing Sutton Jennings cook, she doubted if he was using kitchen utensils as ammunition.
Otherwise, how could he create a power comparable to a nuclear blast?
Beside them, Kenny’s gem-like eyes rolled around, then he ran over to Sutton Jennings’ side, patted the dust on him, and whispered cheekily, "Uncle Jennings, a long way to go, duck!"
Sutton Jennings cleared his throat, a hint of concealment in his eyes, then pulled Kenny as if they were good buddies and walked inside.
"Kenny, what was the second step of the sweet and sour fish you mentioned yesterday?"
"Uncle Jennings, you’re so dumb, how are you going to find a spouse like this in the future?"
"...Uncle Jennings is a man, only marries not gives away!"
Ann Vaughn followed them into the house, locked the door, watched them enter the kitchen, lightly laughed and shook her head, then walked upstairs.
Her room faced the Silver Sea, with a breeze blowing, bringing refreshing coolness.
Looking at the view, the shimmering sea surface seemed draped in a layer of rippling silver gauze, hence the name Silver Sea.
Ann Vaughn opened the computer on the desk and glanced at the news on the forum.
A few years ago, sudden outbreaks of a virus named N3H5 occurred across K Country, and The Allied Nations still hadn’t found the source of the virus or identified what caused it.
Isle of Flora was one of them; due to its coastal location, it has abundant resources yet is almost isolated from the outside and often bullied by Isle of Cyr, but has always been peaceful.
But with the neighboring island being a territory under M Country’s jurisdiction, its proximity to Isle of Flora, and having bullied its little brother Isle of Flora for so long without K Country’s response or Isle of Flora’s uprising in resistance, its audacity grew.
With that growing audacity, disaster struck.
Once the virus broke out, none of the people from Isle of Cyr on Isle of Flora managed to leave alive.
Various places like Isle of Flora, remote towns or countries, had more or less suffered from the N3H5 virus invasion, causing panic internationally.
This panic lasted for almost half a year until the antidote recipe for the N3H5 virus was announced starting from Isle of Flora, controlling, and eventually solving the virus infections everywhere.
Countless medical researchers and the media wanted to see the team who developed the antidote in person to sing praises of their heroism.
But only the residents of Isle of Flora knew that the "team of heroes" praised by the outside world was actually just one person.
Ann Vaughn had just logged in and looked at the forum news, the group that had been silent exploded with activity.
"Finally online, I’ve been camping here for nearly half a month for derivative information on the N3H5 virus, please look at me! QAQ!"
"My goodness, we’re all adults so stop with the cuteness, or I’ll kick you out!"
"Little Rose, look at me! The extraction agent I made last time suddenly exploded, I’m typing with my left hand now!"
"You all are minor leagues, stop bothering Little Rose, huh? Hehe, I want to see how Little Rose makes the antidote (rubbing hands)."
"You dare to imagine?!"
"Add one!"
This comment started a formation of over a dozen lines, making Ann Vaughn both amused and speechless.
She had no ID nickname or code, her avatar was a casual photo— a rose tattoo.
So they used this to address her straightforwardly.
Ann Vaughn scrolled the messages up and answered them according to the difficulty of the questions asked.
As for wanting to see how the antidote is made, naturally, there’s no way.
The people in this group aren’t ordinary people, in other words, those who can access this forum aren’t ordinary, gathered from talented individuals worldwide.
The information she provided last time was enough for them to research the antidote, asking this question is nothing but—
"Ah, the one hundred and eighth time trying to trick Little Rose into revealing gender failed."
"Isn’t it obvious that those who like roses are females?"
"Oh, God, I’m a rose-loving piggy boy and I dissent."
"Is Little Rose still around? Come out and reveal your gender!"
"Why don’t I explode your heads first?"
Among the crowd joking around, a familiar ID suddenly emerged—My King.
The group which had been lively suddenly felt as if someone pressed the pause button.
Soon after, each ID name went dim, and within minutes all logged off.
Every time this "My King" appeared, the group went dead.
Even Ann Vaughn was curious about who this person saving her from difficulty each time was.
She clicked on the group owner’s avatar, thought and typed, "York Vaughn, do you know what the background of this ’My King’ is?"
York Vaughn was online, but it was unclear whether he didn’t see her message or dared not respond, Ann Vaughn stared at "The other party is typing..." for several minutes before York Vaughn’s message finally arrived.