Resurrecting the Genius Within

Chapter 438 “Wife”

The room was cramped and tiny, making George, who was nearly 1.9 meters tall, look like a giant. Isabelle lay on the bed watching him bustling around.

“What are you doing?”

George turned around. “Cooking porridge.”

He was actually cooking porridge for her.

Soon, George brought the bowl of cooked porridge to the bedside.

Knowing that Isabelle was picky and probably a bit of a clean freak, George said, “I’ve cleaned the utensils many times, they’re clean.”

Isabelle stayed silent.

George blew on the porridge to cool it down and began spoon–feeding her.

After she had a couple of spoonfuls, Isabelle suddenly exclaimed, “It’s not even cooked.”

George paused, thinking cooking porridge didn’t require much skill and since it didn’t have much taste anyway, he hadn’t bothered asking if she liked it.

He hadn’t expected something as simple as porridge to go wrong.

Taking a spoonful of the clearly undercooked porridge himself, he realised the rice was still half raw.

George remarked, “I’ll cook it again.”

Isabelle said, “No need.”

Then she asked, “What about you?”

George replied, “I’ve made plenty, I’ll eat after you’re done.”

Isabelle said. “Then… Maybe cook it a bit more.”

George smiled. “Sure.”

readjustment, it finally cooked through, but George managed to overcook it, turning it into mush. He tasted

have to cook up another batch and wait for

layer into a bowl, trying his best to avoid

a bowl of porridge, Isabelle regained some

water to help Isabelle wash her face,

1/3

passed, and Isabelle’s shoulder, forn open multiple times, finally began to treat line l hale. Her spirits were gradually improving, but she was still

water and brought it to

her position so her head was near the edge of the

looked up at the man above her, concentrating on

clothes are really ugly.”

Yours isn’t any

smile crept up on the corner of Isabelle’s

“But you

Isabelle’s lips

carefully

in touch with Jim? Did he blow up that

my phone. And yes, the castle

Isabelle nodded.

glanced at her, wanting to know what had happened in the desert castle, but it clearly

suddenly asked, “What day

18th. Why?”

“No

do you feel like eating tonight?”

try not

it,” George

to George was a teenage boy.

scavenging through trash in this slum, and the beat–up

spent some money to rent the house over for

bed, she heard the young boy coming again to deliver food to George. Peeking through the crack in the door, the boy curiously asked George. “How’s

rendied “She’s much