Chapter 8 The Drunken Girl

Perhaps out of carelessness, Melanie had forgotten to put away some of her intimate clothing. Sherman cleared his throat, quickly averted his eyes, and made no further movements. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the bed and began reciting prayers. Six months ago, he had already reached peak Martial Level 9, a martial arts genius rarely seen in a millennium. According to his master, there was an entirely new realm beyond level 9. Yet, despite his efforts over the past half year, Sherman had been unable to break through. An hour later, Melanie returned and began cooking. Soon, a delightful aroma filled the air. Sherman paused his practice and made his way to the kitchen, where he found Melanie fully engrossed in her cooking. The scene was simple yet heartwarming. Melanie was undoubtedly a virtuous and lovely girl. While most girls her age were still in school, she was carrying the weight of her family's struggles on her shoulders. "Sherman, why are you here? The kitchen is smoky. Go and wait outside," Melanie said, glancing back at him. Sherman shook his head. "It's fine. By the way, aren't you in school right now?" Melanie's expression dimmed slightly. "I got into Riverton University, but ... " Her voice trailed off, but Sherman understood the rest without needing an explanation. Sherman silently resolved that once his 200 million arrived, he would set aside some to help Melanie with her tuition. A talented girl like her deserved an education—it would be a shame for her potential to go to waste. Martin, still recovering from a serious illness, could only handle light, non-greasy food. So, Melanie carefully fed him some lean meat porridge. At the dining table, she opened two cans of beer, handing one to Sherman. "Sherman, I toast to you. Thank you for saving my father," she said with a grateful smile, raising her can and taking a big sip. Her brows furrowed immediately, a clear sign that she was not used to drinking. Before Sherman could stop her, she had already downed half the can. She let out a small burp, her cheeks flushing a deep pink, making her look both endearing and tempting. "If you can't handle alcohol, you shouldn't force yourself," Sherman advised. "It's okay, I'm just so happy today," Melanie replied with a bright smile. She picked up a dish and placed it in front of him. "Here, try this oyster." The table was filled with an array of dishes, all prepared with care. The flavors were rich and delightful. Sherman nodded in approval as he took a bite. "Your cooking is incredible. Whoever marries you in the future will be one lucky man." Melanie's eyes glistened with emotion as her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink. Blushing, she softly asked, "Sherman, do you have a girlfriend?" Sherman shook his head. "No, I don't." Hearing this, Melanie felt a spark of joy bloom in her heart. Not long after, however, the effects of the alcohol hit her, and she passed out. Sherman called her name a few times but got no response. Carefully, he carried her to her bedroom and laid her down on the bed. At that moment, she looked as delicate as a freshly bloomed flower. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyelashes fluttered slightly, and her skin was smooth and fair, almost glowing like porcelain. Sherman felt his heart skip a beat, a subtle ripple of emotion stirring within him. Sherman gently laid Melanie on the bed, tucked her in with a blanket, and quietly left the bedroom. Despite being in the prime of his youth, he had no intention of taking advantage of the situation. He opted to sleep in the living room instead. At six in the morning, Sherman woke up right on time. His first task was to check his old-fashioned cellphone to see if the funds had arrived. "Still not here?" he muttered, frowning slightly. "The transfer was made at 1 PM yesterday. I'll give it a bit more time." Afterward, he pulled out a toothbrush and toothpaste from his backpack, freshened up, and proceeded to give Martin another round of treatment. This time, it was not the Thirteen Needles of Crossing Worlds—just a simple treatment aimed at aiding recovery. "Thank you, Sherman," Martin said with heartfelt gratitude, sensing significant improvement compared to the previous day. Sherman waved him off casually. "No need for thanks. Healing the sick is just my responsibility." Martin's admiration for Sherman grew as he watched the young man work. "Dad, Sherman," a cheerful voice called out as Melanie entered the room. She seemed slightly flustered, avoiding Sherman's gaze. Her embarrassment stemmed from the memory of passing out drunk the night before and waking up in her bed. Clearly, Sherman must have carried her there. However, what she could not stop wondering was ... had anything else happened? Thinking of this, Melanie felt even more embarrassed, but there was not even a hint of disgust. Martin chuckled and said, "Melanie, you're awake—hurry and make breakfast." "Oh, okay," Melanie replied. Without needing to ask, she could already tell Martin was recovering well—his complexion was noticeably healthier. This filled Melanie with even more gratitude toward Sherman. After breakfast, Sherman handed Melanie a prescription. "Follow this for a month, and your father will fully recover," he said before adding, "I have to go now." Melanie's heart tightened. "Sherman, where are you going?" "Riverton University," Sherman replied, patting her head gently. "Your father's fine now, so you can focus on your studies there. As for tuition, I can lend you the money first. You can repay me slowly when you're able." He deliberately framed it as a loan rather than a gift. Melanie seemed delicate, but her pride and sense of independence were strong. Biting her lip slightly, Melanie hesitated before asking softly, "Why are you so kind to me?" Sherman grinned and joked, "Because I want to trick you into being my wife." Melanie's face turned scarlet as she mumbled weakly, "Okay." "What?" Sherman tilted his head, unable to catch her words. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Nothing, nothing!" Melanie quickly shook her head, trying to dismiss the moment. "Okay, it's settled. Give me your phone number," Sherman said. Melanie quickly shared her number with him. With that, Sherman left. Melanie watched Sherman's retreating figure, a sense of reluctance lingering in her heart. Meanwhile, Sherman arrived at the bus stop and studied the route to Riverton University. The roads were unusually congested today, with frequent traffic jams. As Sherman focused on the bus schedule with his back to the road, a sudden screech of tires broke the hum of the city. Screech! A sleek, luxurious sports car skidded to a stop nearby. The car window rolled down to reveal a man smoking a cigarette. "Quite lively today," the man remarked. "Must be everyone gathering to celebrate my grandfather's birthday." Sherman's brow furrowed as he immediately recognized the voice—it was Frank. A sweet, playful voice from the driver's seat followed. "What gift are you going to give your grandfather this year?" Frank chuckled smugly. "Let me tell you, yesterday some idiot sold five percent of his shares to my dad. It was worth 200 million, but he had the nerve to cancel the transfer afterward. So, I basically got 200 million for free! This time, I'll swing by the antique shop and grab a few million worth of antiques for my grandpa. That should make him ecstatic!" Sherman's face darkened, his gaze icy. As the sports car roared away, he clenched his fists. "Scheming against me? You've got some nerve. Let's see how this plays out." He retrieved his old-fashioned phone and dialed Jack. "Find out where Frank's grandfather is holding his birthday celebration," Sherman instructed coldly. After getting the address, Sherman stepped into a supermarket, bought an urn, and carefully wrapped it. With the gift in hand, he headed to the city center. On the other end, Jack hung up after receiving Sherman's call. He pondered aloud, "Does he plan to attend Chadwick's birthday? Then I must make an appearance too!"