When the beautiful female doctor's gaze turned feverish and she moved in close to Lu Xin, almost cheek to cheek.
Lu Xin's gaze suddenly turned cold.
He did not dodge. He simply sat there quietly, looking indifferently at her face only inches away.
One was feverish, the other indifferent—like fire clashing with ice. It was impossible to tell whether the ice had extinguished the fire or the fire had melted the ice.
But at least on the surface, the ice seemed to be colder.
The atmosphere grew somewhat oppressive.
Dr. An showed no intention of backing away, and Lu Xin showed no intention of dodging.
The two seemed to be competing with each other.
After a long while, Lu Xin slowly pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with a sharp snap. Smoke gradually drifted upward.
Dr. An had no choice but to retreat, even coughing lightly after being hit by the smoke.
"I don't like the word 'create' that you use, especially 'be created.'"
Under normal circumstances, Lu Xin would not smoke in someone else's office without permission, out of courtesy.
But this time, he had to make an exception because that woman had a habit of standing too close when she spoke.
The effect seemed quite good, so he slowly exhaled smoke and said thoughtfully, "But I do want to understand why you think I'm at the Third Stage, and why you believe I have the potential to climb those steps."
"Don't you understand yet?"
Dr. An casually took out a red gummy candy. She had intended to put it in her mouth, but when she saw Lu Xin smoking with such composure, she felt as if she had been invisibly beaten, and put it down gloomily.
She said listlessly, "The theory of the seven