Overprotected By My Tsundere CEO

Chapter 313 - 202: Tofu Shop Chef, Suspected Love Rival

The next day, 9 a.m.

After an early three-hour drawing session, Nora Scott, the diligent artist, left her study.

She rubbed her temples, filled a glass with water, and sat by the sofa.

Her phone, silenced on the coffee table, was almost out of battery due to an avalanche of messages and calls. During her brief glance, another call from Benjamin Durant came through.

"What’s up?"

She picked up the phone and answered.

"Auntie, if you don’t answer the phone, I’ll be at your apartment soon." Benjamin sighed, feeling helpless.

Despite his charming and suave playboy demeanor, with Nora, he was just a worrywart, often nagging like a mother.

"What’s the matter?"

"I’m bringing you breakfast. You definitely haven’t eaten yet," Benjamin stated confidently.

"..."

Indeed, she hadn’t eaten and was starting to feel hungry.

Letting Benjamin come over, Nora hung up the call and checked her messages. Seeing a reminder from Pedro Langley about breakfast too, she calmly replied with a "Done," then turned off her phone’s silent mode and set it aside.

Picking up the backpack she had tossed on the sofa upon entering, Nora unzipped it and took out a transparent folder.

She opened it and pulled out the character portraits inside.

These portraits were drawn based on Henry Chapman’s memories by Michael Quinn. She had scanned them and sent them to Benjamin, asking the Durant Family to keep an eye out, but—clearly, there was no progress.

They weren’t even sure if these people operated on the Northwest Line.

Nevertheless, since she had promised Henry, Nora wouldn’t just shrug it off and planned to use her underground connections to investigate.

She surveyed each sketch, letting the simple pencil lines transform into vivid people in her mind.

—Five years had passed, and many of them likely looked quite different by now.

Hope seemed faint.

During her browsing, the phone rang. Assuming it was Benjamin or Pedro, she grabbed it only to see it was Humphrey Jennings on the line—Benjamin’s "Wood."

"Old Jennings."

"At the hospital, are you coming?"

His voice was deep and magnetic, exuding a solidity Benjamin couldn’t match.

"How’s his condition?"

"Doing well, still making a fuss," Humphrey replied monotonously.

Making a fuss?

Just as Nora was puzzled, Luke Smith’s voice leaked through the phone’s receiver—

"I say, how can you be so rough, throwing soybean milk around? What if it spills—where are you going—"

The door closed, and Luke’s chaotic shouting faded away.

Then, Humphrey’s voice came through, carrying a tinge of irritation, "Such a hassle."

Nora imagined Humphrey’s darkened expression and chuckled silently, "When it comes to ’hassle,’ he’s got nothing on our Master Durant."

"Benjamin that..." Humphrey paused, then asked, "With you?"

Clearing her throat, Nora figured Humphrey omitted words like "grandson," smiling lightly without minding his brief hesitation.

"He’ll be bringing breakfast over soon," Nora said, "Send me the address, I’m heading down now."

"Okay."

Humphrey, ever straightforward, ended the call, and within ten seconds, a detailed address was sent over.

The hospital, not far from here, about a half-hour drive.

Glancing at the message, Nora tossed her phone and the sketches into her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and headed out.

*

In the car, Nora sipped soybean milk through a straw, listening to Benjamin lay out "entertainment plans" for her.

As a busy artist with deadlines, not a word of it registered with her.

"Boss Alex said the small mechanical gadgets you made have been selling for outrageous prices lately, suspecting someone is deliberately inflating prices in the shadows, maybe there’s some conspiracy, so they won’t be auctioned anymore."

Finally switching topics after droning on for who knows how long, Benjamin continued.

"Hmm."

Nora replied absentmindedly, her thoughts on her phone.

She had taken a picture of her breakfast to send to Pedro, only for her photography skills to be mocked by him, and now she was trying to salvage her dignity across the screen.

"I talked with Humphrey about putting some in our family store to see if anyone comes in, maybe expose the orchestrator—"

Nora suddenly turned, quite surprised, "Humphrey discussed such a bad idea with you?"

"I asked him, and he said yes. You don’t call that discussing?"

"..."

That’s called ’couldn’t be bothered with you.’

Nora asked, "Already placed them in the store?"

"Hmm."

"Alright then."

Nora Scott nodded and paid it no further attention.

Aside from being designed and made by her, none of these mechanical items had passed through her hands, even if traced to Benjamin Durant or Humphrey Jennings, they couldn’t trace back to her.

Although Nora didn’t care much about the "deliberate price hiking and ulterior motives," it would be best if she could figure out the "background of the other party" and "their intentions."

She did not like being passive.

"I asked around a bit more, and everyone in the industry claims your work is ’irreplaceable,’ which is why so many are infatuated with it. Some businessmen see the market potential and want to collaborate with you or buy the technology, so they’re going to great lengths."

"There’s no market."

Nora replied to the message without even lifting her eyelids.

The Luban locks on the market are about as interesting to her. But Luban locks can be assembled on one’s own, adding to their fun, while her pieces are mostly just for display, only appealing to a very small group, making it almost impossible to open up a market.

What kind of shortsighted businessman would go through that trouble for profit on such pieces?

"Right," Benjamin clicked his tongue, "diving deeper into this, there’s not a single reliable or justifiable reason. Tell me, what can those stirring up trouble from behind be after? They can’t be like you, just getting bored and wanting to cause a scene, can they?"

Nora spoke unhurriedly, "As long as the mastermind doesn’t give up, the truth will surface one day."

Listening to her calm and unruffled tone, Benjamin was impressed and rubbed his forehead, "How are you so composed?"

Having just given Pedro Langley a hard time, Nora finally felt pleased, slumping back onto her chair with her eyes lit up by the radiant sunlight, carrying a hint of a smile.

She countered, "If I lose my composure, who do I take it out on?"

"..."

Benjamin blinked, struck by the sight of sunlight grazing over her features, left speechless by the unexpected beauty of it and at a loss for words.

Having known this mentor for four or five years, he still wasn’t used to her stunning appearance.

...When God created her, He must have been in a master artisan mood.

While Benjamin remained silent, the vehicle had already stopped at the hospital entrance.

"We’re here."

Chill as can be, Nora dropped those two words before grabbing the breakfast trash and stepping out of the car.

Benjamin hurried to follow.

*

The bustling hospital was the same everywhere, with people constantly coming and going.

As Nora and Benjamin arrived near the inpatient department, just about to head to the room number given by Humphrey Jennings, they looked up and saw a tall and imposing figure near the greenery flowerbed outside the inpatient building.

With the large temperature fluctuations from morning to night, even though there was sun, it was only ten-odd degrees.

Yet, this guy standing by the flowerbed had taken off his jacket and slung it over his elbow, wearing only a white T-shirt, short-sleeved, with his arms fully exposed, showing off tan skin, clearly defined muscles, and a sense of strength.

He wasn’t particularly handsome, bearing no connection with Benjamin’s "handsome and refined" look, belonging to a more understated and intriguing type, with hard and cold features, thick eyebrows, big eyes, and a dignified appearance, marred only by a scar on his forehead, usually covered but slightly revealed due to messy hair.

At a glance, he embodied the image of a macho man.

—Nora had once felt that the internet’s ideal image of "Zero" was modeled after this type.

At this moment, this rugged guy, unafraid of the cold, basking in the sun, was leisurely standing by, smoking a cigarette, and when the smoke drifted over, his gaze happened to cast in their direction.

"You’re here?"

His eyes lingered on Nora briefly, as Humphrey Jennings took the cigarette from his mouth.

"Having a conscience, huh," Benjamin walked over, waving away the choking smoke, raising his eyebrows at him, "waiting here to pick us up, specifically?"

"Just picking her up, nothing to do with you."

Humphrey gave Nora a look and casually stubbed out his barely smoked cigarette.

"You..."

Benjamin was somewhat displeased with Humphrey’s attitude, despite their few years of "revolutionary friendship."

Nora chuckled, "Lead the way then."

"Did you have breakfast?" Humphrey asked.

"Delivered by me personally, how could she not eat well?" Benjamin jumped in.

Humphrey turned his head, glaring at him with a rather chilling look.

"..."

Benjamin’s heart chilled, confused, but fell silent.

"Not bad, but not as good as yours,"

Meandering towards the entrance, Nora smiled lazily, telling the truth.

"I’ll have some time tomorrow," Humphrey nodded slightly.

"Ah."

Nora laughed lightly.

"..."

Feeling spurned, Benjamin was somewhat disgruntled, yet remembering Humphrey’s culinary skills, he sighed, unable to find a single reason to argue back.

—Humphrey Jennings was one of the reasons he hung around the Tofu Shop, thick-skinned as a waiter.