Anya gave Jeming a clean smile, her voice ethereal and pleasant:
"Mr. Jeming, it's been a while. This... is my grandmother's plane. Nice to see you again, though under these circumstances."
She looked at Viola, politely bowing: "Aunt Viola, you've arrived."
Viola's mouth twitched slightly at the term "Aunt," but she reluctantly accepted the seniority.
On the other side, Jeming looked at Anya's pure, shy, and pitiful appearance, his mouth twitching slightly as well.
He knew too well the true face of this guy.
This innocent exterior is nothing but a layer of carefully applied disguise!
Peel off this skin, and inside is a soul blazing with the obsession for research, hot enough to scorch people.
The brief intersection during graduation trials had already made him understand this "genius's" nearly obsessive curiosity for the unknown.
Viola, unlike Jeming, quickly got to the point, frowning as she asked: "Anya, what is going on? How did this plane become like this?"
